#the fact that i haven’t finished revenge of the fallen

[jyrinestories08]

I CAN FINALLY TALK ABOUT TRANSFORMERS ONE!!!!!

Since that i am now talking about transformers content over the weeks or months, sometimes i see transformers as a blockbuster movies because of the bayformer movies, including the rebooted transformer live action movies. But now talking about transformers one, OH MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD, THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST TRANSFORMERS ANIMATED MOVIE EVER MADE, I LOVE THE CHARACTERS, I LOVE THE STORYTELLING AND I LOVE HOW THE MOVIE BUILDS UP THE FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN OPTIMUS PRIME AND MEGATRON AND HOW THEY FALL APART. IT’S GOOD IT’S SO GOOD, I RECOMMANDED YOU WATCH TRANSFORMERS ONE AND EXPRIENCE FOR YOURSELF.

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH6

Here is chapter six of my Invisobang fic! The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic! Love this chapter's art so much!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Six

Cupboard doors clattered open and closed. From where she was on the stairs and the early hour Jazz could only assume it was Danny attempting to amuse himself while they slept. She entered the kitchen fully prepared to try and explain to her little brother that humans needed to sleep and he should keep it down. If she was more awake she’d be more upset by the idea. She was trying hard to not let the fact that he was a ghost get to her. To treat him as normal but he wasn’t. Things like this were a reminder that Danny didn’t remember what it was like to be human. That hurt.

He was still Danny, worrying about all of them even when he was the one that had been hurt more than any of them but that was emotional. He seemed to get that but not the physical.

Now he was bored and a bored Danny could be a noisy one. She didn’t blame him. The remote bricked when he tried to use it himself. Though she wasn’t sure he actually knew how to use it. He’d just sort of waved it around.

What she found wasn’t Danny but her Mom searching the room frantically. A pot of coffee sitting cooling on the bench without a mug.

“Mom?” she asked confused

Her Mom startled, “Jazz? Oh sorry… I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah… you?” Jazz had been trying not to think of the fading memory of the nightmare. Sleep hadn’t been easy.

“The same,” her Mom said with a tired sigh.

“What are you looking for? The mugs are in here,” Jazz said, opening the cupboard. It wasn’t as full as normal, the dishes having piled up a little, but there were still a few.

“I know… I know… but… Danny’s NASA mug… it's missing.”

“Have you checked his room? He probably used it before…” now he was never going to get to again. Ghosts didn’t need to. Did he even have a mouth? A face. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“I haven’t… I didn’t see it before but…” she struggled with her words, “it's been hard, I… I didn’t go in. I just couldn’t.”

Jazz didn’t go back to bed. There wasn’t much point. For a while she and her Mom sat in the living room, away from the mugs and dirty dishes. They’d have to be dealt with eventually but now was not the time. She did, however nod off.

She was woken as the sofa beneath her shifted. She floundered a little as she sat up. Half the sofa in the air. Her Dad’s face appeared as he lowered it. A sheepish look on his face as he caught sight of her.

“Sorry Jazz, I was trying not to wake you.”

“By lifting the sofa? Dad what on earth are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking for my needlepoint, I just don’t remember where I had it last.”

He continued to frustratedly search. Lifting chairs and the coffee table. She scanned the room expecting to spot it being the less frustrated one. A single spool of thread lay on the floor where it had fallen when he lifted the coffee table but not the hoop.

Despite joining the search more actively they had no luck in actually finding the needlepoint. It was a disappointment. Her Dad hadn’t touched it since Danny’s incident and just like the rest of them he needed something normal to fall back on.

That night sleep wasn’t coming easily, she’d tossed and turned for hours with no luck. Exhaustion hadn’t come. Even if it did, the night would be filled with nightmares. She glanced round the dark room for something that would be a comfort. Bearbert was missing from his spot on her shelf. Maybe he was on her desk? She’d been relying on the bear a lot over the week. She flicked on her bedside light. The desk was empty aside from her laptop. She stumbled out of bed and checked under the bed and the desk using her phone as a torch. Still nothing.

Had she left it somewhere else about the house?

Jazz staggered tiredly out of her room headed for the living room. She’d had the bear down there recently. She didn’t remember where she’d last put him down. She reached the top of the stairs when she noticed the glow from Danny’s end of the corridor. A string of static noises hissing quietly from the tech in his room.

Maybe he had seen Bearbert.

It took a little deep breath to pick up the courage to go down the corridor, the chill dropping down her spine. He was always scarier in the dark. He’s still Danny, she reminded herself. Just a little different.

“Danny? Have you seen…” her sentence cut off as she caught sight of Danny as she came round the door frame.

He was floating near the wall of his room, above his bed. His eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Or like when he was younger being caught red handed at something he knew he wasn’t meant to be doing. Even with the black faceplate for a face she could still recognise that expression.

“What are you up to?” She questioned leaning to get a better look at what he was hiding behind the bulky Hazmat.

There half phased into his wall was Bearbert. Just the legs of her beloved bear were sticking out of the wall.

“Danny!” she snapped before even thinking about the late hour, “what are you doing?”

“Look after… goooood. Gooood thing, safe,” his speakers crackled.

Her Mom burst into the room, hair messy and frazzled. A pistol in hand. She froze and stared as Jazz lunged at Danny. Pulling on him and trying to get to Bearbert.

“Give him back Danny!”

Danny floated up holding the bear that came out of the wall as he did, “safe, keep safe. For Jazzt.”

He cackled, even if it came from across the room it was like a real laugh. She pouted, he was messing with her.

“Danny give it back. Please,” Jazz grabbed his ankle but it whisped away into a tail, “Danny!”

Jack staggered in, “what’s going on?”

“I… I’m not sure. Danny’s ghost stole Bearbert,” her mom replied.

“Okay, it's not like he didn’t do that before.”

“I guess, but still why? Why hide it in the wall?”

Her Dad shrugged as Jazz managed to get Bearbert back in her arms. He’d given it back, if he wanted to he could have played keep away for hours. It was as she held the bear that she noticed a needle caught on its fur, a thread leading back to the wall.

“Danny! Just how much have you been hiding!”

He crackled a laugh.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

[heshemejoshi]

i’ve been trying to place my finger on why the stories in octopath 2 feel so different from octopath 1 despite the structure of chapters not being that different (entering town, cutscenes, follow green dot on the radar, use path actions, go to dungeon, fight boss). and i think i finally got it. it all changes a lot at an emotional level because the new stories are told at a way bigger scale with higher logical stakes compared to the stories in octopath 1 which had most protagonists not be known by a lot of people in the end, actually, because they were following a more contained tale with characters who didn’t get involved in a grander scheme of the continent’s society or something like that. meanwhile octopath 2 has the opposite LMAO.

in octopath 1 we had much smaller characters. a thief stealing heirlooms in the shadows to get his own freedom from a rich noble house, an apothecary ailing whoever’s in need without charging for his services, a hunter from a small village in a journey to find and save her master, a scholar researching a mysterious book, a merchant discovering the world for the first time. i’d say probably the most well-known characters in their world are a cleric on a pilgrimage to recover the strength of the god’s flame, a lady from a fallen noble house believed dead on a journey to get her revenge and who’d spent years working as a dancer in a tavern, and an ex-knight from a great fallen kingdom looking for a purpose to live again, but even still they didn’t really do anything as grand as the characters in octopath 2 did. and i think that’s what gives them all their charm: the fact that they left an incredible impact on the people they met and helped on their journeys, and yet once they are gone they will be forgotten. that’s the magical aspect to me: to be important for a brief moment and then be gone, leaving other people space to do their own things and contributions to the people they meet etc etc it’s a cycle of love and care that doesn’t end when they are gone

spoilers for the octopath 2 stories ahead, for comparison:

like for example. partitio ended up becoming a business magnate all over the news due to his involvement with roque. hikari started as a prince and then became a king in the end by winning ku’s civil war. agnea became a star just like she wanted, getting to dolcinaea’s level of recognition all thanks to her hard work and desire to see other people happy, going out of her way to protect them when in need too. castti saved a literal kingdom from a lethal poison that had destroyed an entire town before. and some non-famous characters in their world who stopped some fatal crisis of happening were ochette (whose story i haven’t finished yet LMAO but i’m almost there), temenos and osvald. throné is probably the one whose whole existence pretty much faded, leaving her room to begin again. but then again she did stop something very important and very very disgusting LOL

and both work really well in their games btw, according to what they set out to do. but they do have that crazy difference (to me, at least)

[thmgau]

CHAPTER 11 - THE AUCTION BEGINS [wattpad link]

---

“Ohoho! It seems you 5 have fallen for my trap! ~” “YOU! Where the hell are we?!”

The group was in a freezing cold room, with their only source of light being a small, unreachable window. The door in front of them jiggled a little bit, & in walked The Auctioneer.

“Well, you’re in my Auction House, silly!” he smiled. “We already said we weren’t interested in bidding on anything, dude. Take a hint.” “The only one here who should be taking the hint is you!” The Auctioneer pointed at Cherry. “You all remember Thursday night, yea? When I said you didn’t have to bid on anything?” “Uh.. yea?” “See, you’re not here to bid on stuff, you’re here to be bid ON!” “Huh?” “What do you mean by that?”

The Auctioneer sighed. “Oh, you’re still confused? Well, y’see... this freezer that you 5 are in right now is a very special freezer!” “Is that true?” “Yes! In fact, it can turn people into statues!” “Statues?!” “Yup! Within an hour or two, you all should be 100% turned into statues, ready for the auction!” “That’s fucked up, dude!” “Well, if you didn’t want to be auctioned off, you shouldn’t have messed around in business that wasn’t yours.” The Auctioneer shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘business that wasn’t yours’?” “Perhaps the name Pim rings a bell?”

The group gasped.

“You mean that fucked-up banana guy?” “Hey! That ‘fucked-up banana guy’ is my boyfriend, thank you very much!” “He’s your boyfriend?!” “Yes! & he told me about the little stunt you all pulled at his restaurant, breaking his Bananainator & all!” “He was gonna turn everyone into bananas!” “That sounds like a you problem then. Anyways, Pim & I have some setting up to do for the auction! Ta-ta!”

With that, The Auctioneer took a bow & left the freezer, leaving the group to their own devices.

Cherry crossed their arms & leaned against the wall. “I shouldn’t have gone on that stupid scavenger hunt. It was a trick from the very beginning!”

“You went on a scavenger hunt too?” “Yea?” “I also went on a scavenger hunt!” “Did we all get lured here by the same thing?” “I guess so..” “That motherfucker! I’ll kill him!” “Well... how do we get outta here?” Nora questioned, looking around the room.

“What are the chances they forgot to lock the door?” Leslie asked. “Let’s see!”

Juniper approached the door & tried to open it. It did not work. “Well, I guess that answers that.”

“Whatever. If we don’t find a way out of this place soon, we’re fucked!” “What if we used our weapons?” “We can’t do that! My sibling’s here!” “Sorrel’s at the auction?” “Yea, they saw the poster from Thursday & was interested in the auction.. so..” “We can just.. use the weapons to knock down the door & then switch back into our normal clothes.” “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s do that!”

The group all pulled on their necklaces & entered Hero Mode, summoning their weapons.

“Alright!” Cherry raised her sword up. “Let’s bust out of this fucking place!”

-

Outside of the freezer room, the Auction House was actually quite elegant. A few guests were there already, waiting for the auction to start. The Auctioneer, along with the help of Pim, were setting the last few things up.

There was a table set up, with refreshments such as Arby’s chicken tenders, pizza, cupcakes, & more. Purple balloons were set in place on the table, being held down by some rocks. A clipboard was set on the table as well, with some Sharpies, for guests to sign in.

Most of the preparations were complete. All they had to do now was take the eggs into the back of the Auction House. After the auction was finished, Pim & The Auctioneer were going to celebrate by making some omelettes.

“Nice thinking on the eggs, Pim,” The Auctioneer smiled, grabbing the 3 egg cartons. “I haven’t had omelettes in a looong time!” “& I’ve never had omelettes at all! It’ll be a nice meal to celebrate our revenge, Puck.” “It sure will!”

As the two of them walked toward the back, however, they had no idea they were being watched.

“Hmm.. I think those were Dollar General eggs.” Natalie hummed. “What... do Dollar General eggs have to do with anything?” Sorrel asked. “I’ll have you know that I work at Dollar General, & a f- a customer bought THREE cartons of eggs today! Not to mention, the banana guy!” “The... banana guy? You mean the guy in the banana costume?” “No, no. From what I’ve heard, that’s not a costume. That’s his skin.” “Oh, creepy.” “Yeah. Can you believe that guy tried to take over capitalism?! Something fishy is going on at this auction, & I’m gonna solve it.”

“Wait- hold on..” Sorrel paused. “Did you say.. take over capitalism?” “Uh- yeah?” “My sister was telling me a guy was trying to take over capitalism when I landed from my flight here. She never mentioned he was a banana.” “Some things are better left not being mentioned, I suppose.” Natalie shrugged, pulling out her squeaky hammer. “Enough waiting around, now. I’m gonna investigate.” “Um.. ok. Good l-”

All of a sudden, the building started to rumble. It wasn’t an earthquake, because it was only for a second or two. The Auctioneer nearly dropped the eggs.

“What was THAT?”

The Auctioneer & Pim turned to look at each other. The Auctioneer handed the eggs over to Pim. “Bring these to the kitchen, babe. I’m gonna go check on something.” “Ok, love you!” “Love you too!”

Natalie & Sorrel watched as The Auctioneer speed-walked across the Auction House & into a door. Natalie glanced around for a couple seconds.

“I’m following them.” “Isn’t that illegal?” “I’ve done worse.”

& so, Natalie snuck over & followed The Auctioneer to his destination.

-

“Hi-YAH!”

After what felt like an eternity, Cherry finally got the door knocked down.

“Woohoo!” Leslie cheered. “We’re free!” “Finally,” Cherry stretched her arms. “Now we can-”

Before Cherry could finish their sentence, the ground started rumbling.

“Oh, great. An earthquake.”

After a second or two, the rumbling stopped.

“Huh. Earthquakes usually last longer than that.” “I don’t think that was an earthquake.” “Let’s just focus on trying to get outta here.”

The group started walking down the hall, looking around for anything that could help them.

“Hey, I see a flight of stairs!” Juniper said, pointing toward a flight of stairs.

“Huh! That must mean we’re underground.” “Why would an auction house have a basement with a human freezer that turns people into statues?” “Beats me.” “I guess we should go up the stairs then, huh?” “I guess. If it’s the way out.”

The group pulled on their ties, reverting back into their normal clothes, & started heading up the stairs in a straight line (Kalani was in front). They hadn’t even made it 10 steps before they heard footsteps rapidly approaching them.

“Ah. Footsteps. Never a good thing to hear when you’re trying to escape something.”

After a few moments, The Auctioneer came to a sudden stop in front of the group, with a cane in his hand.

“Oh! You’ve escaped!” The Auctioneer grinned. “Yea, yea, now can you get out of our way please?” Kalani tried to shoo him off. “We kind of don’t want to be statues.” “Who said you had a choice in the matter?” The Auctioneer poked Kalani with the cane, & one by one the group tumbled down the stairs.

“OW!”

As they all landed on the ground, The Auctioneer walked down the stairs, approaching them.

“Now, for your safety, I highly recommend you get back in the freezer.” “Absolutely fuckin’ not, buddy.”

The group hopped up & tugged on their necklaces, entering Hero Mode once more with their weapons in hands.

“Oh, you wanna play it like that, do you now?” The Auctioneer tossed his cane aside. “Then I’d be happy to oblige.”

Nora flung her whip at The Auctioneer a couple of times, but they moved out of the way before it hit them. Cherry tried to swing her sword at The Auctioneer, however, he just grabbed the blade with his hands before it hit him.

“Feelin’ a little feisty now, are we?” “Wh- How are your hands not bleeding?!” “That’s none of your business!”

Cherry tried to yank their sword out of The Auctioneer’s hands, but either they were too weak or The Auctioneer was too strong, because it wasn’t working.

“Let go of my sword, asshole!” “No thanks!” “Don’t worry, Cherry-pop!” Kalani said, aiming her wand at The Auctioneer. “I’ve got this!”

Kalani shot a magic blast from his wand at The Auctioneer. They maneuvered the sword in such a way that it reflected the magic blast, making it bounce back at the group. They all dodged the blast & it hit the wall.

“Ooookay. Guess I don’t got this.”

The Auctioneer grinned. “Now, clearly we’ve entered a standstill. It would be smart of you to enter the freezer again. Delaying the inevitable will only cause further problems.”

“Do you think we’re dumb enough to go back in there?” “You’re certainly dumb enough to go on my scavenger hunt.” “HOW were we supposed to know that was a trap?” “How weren’t you supposed to know? It was written all over the poster, in purple, cursive font-”

Before The Auctioneer could finish their sentence, they collapsed to the ground, with a squeaky noise accompanying his fall. The group looked up.

It was Natalie.

[lord-multifandom-murder]

Silence is golden (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: This came to me in a 'poof' moment.....and technically I haven't been writing Fred content so I guess I should make up for it.

Summary: You're quite a quiet person, and almost a wallflower. Little did anyone know, you were extremely mischievous underneath that quiet surface. Fred finds this out after your friends get bullied.

Warnings: I suppose none, per usual.

Requests are OPEN!!

Since you were extremely quiet, no one ever expected you to play pranks. They always suspected it was the twins, Fred and George Weasley.

The perfect cover.

Fred and George always thought it was strange. Weren't they the only troublemakers in Hogwarts? Or was there someone else who did it in the shadows?

To be honest, George was more laid-back on the matter, but Fred was more bothered by it. It could damage their reputation as pranksters. Seeing that it wasn't them, and that these pranks were rather way out of their league.

Interestingly enough, that person always left a mark. It was rather odd, because no one in their right mind would do that, except for this daring maverick. It was always the same thing, a drawing of an 'X' wherever the prank was set up.

They were well-thought of, and almost nothing was left by the person who did them. Well, little did anyone know, it was you. You were quiet, yes, which made it easier to do things since no one bothered you. Since you were silent half the time, no one really bothered to wonder what you were thinking about.

Now, except for Fred.

He had noticed you sitting underneath a tree in the courtyard, deep in thought. It wasn't strange to find you alone even though you had friends, but Fred being Fred, came over to bother you. Mainly because he wanted to ask you on a date, really.

No one ever would have thought he would've fallen for the silent bookworm, Y/N Y/L/N, who was so quiet sometimes if you were standing right behind someone, they wouldn't know until they turned around and jumped in fright.

Fred had witnessed some of those exchanges, really. And he thought they were actually very hilarious.

"Hello there, Y/N," he smiles. You look up to see him standing in front of you, casting a shadow over. "Hello, Fred. What're you doing alone on this fine day?" you ask, quirking your eyebrow.

Fred looked surprised that you knew it was him, because him and George were always easily mistaken for each other; it was sometimes good, and sometimes bad. You could tell it was him because little did he know, you were around him more often than he would notice.

Rather if it was a prank, or just sitting nearby him in the Great Hall, after making a few observations, you could roughly guess who was who most of the time, which got easier after a while. And technically because you had a secret crush on the extroverted redhead.

You smirked amusedly at his face. "Think, Weasley. I wondered why you haven't placed a finger on that 'quiet person' stereotype yet."

Fred chuckled and sat next to you, leaving a slight distance between you to be polite. "I was just wondering if you weren't like the other quiet kids I see around here."

You smile. "It's nice to see that you don't judge a book by it's cover Fred. I admire that about you."

Did I ever mention that you were rather blunt with your words?

Fred blushed slightly but didn't say anything. You smile and mirror his behaviour. "Say, could you help me with some Charms homework? I heard you're very good, considering I always hear Flitwick bragging about you in-between classes."

"Sure, d'you wanna go to the library? It's more quiet there so I can focus," you say, ready to stand up. Fred suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. "Sorry, but uh....I'm actually busy at the moment but maybe we can meet tomorrow in the library? After lunch? I'm not in a hurry to turn this in."

"Okay then, after lunch," you repeat. Fred smiled and got up, brushing his trousers. "Well, it was nice talking to you Y/N, but I have an appointment with my dear twin brother."

"Bye, then. Oh, say hello to George for me!" you say with a playful smile.

"Don't worry, I won't forget!" he calls back, jogging off. You smile quietly even though you were screaming internally, and went back to thinking.

---------

The next day, you were walking to lunch with Neville and Ron. He was helping to tutor the both of you since you weren't doing very well at the subject.

You met with Harry and Hermione and they greeted you as you sat down. Hermione gave you a kind smile and started asking you a bit about what Neville taught you and Ron about. Neville eagerly entered the conversation as you ate and discussed about the proper way to manage a Fanged Geranium.

"What're you doing here, Longbottom? Shouldn't you be in the greenhouses playing with dirt?" a snide voice sounded. Hermione grimaced as Malfoy walked towards the Gryffindor table.

"Shove off, Malfoy. It's none of your business," Ron grumbled, stabbing his Shepherd's Pie rather violently.

"Manners, Weasley. Honestly, Longbottom. Why are you ever here? You can barely do magic. You're worse than that Mudblood Granger."

You stood up abruptly, turning around to glare at Malfoy.

"Oho, Y/L/N! What're you going to say? Share your thoughts! Oh wait, you can't because you barely talk!"

"That's enough, Malfoy!" Hermione snaps angrily. "Shut it, Granger. Go on, Y/L/N. Do you even know words?"

You sigh, and nod. But that's all you do. Malfoy tried to bother you again to say something, mocking your chosen silence. You huff and turn around again, holding a fork at him, surprising everyone. You motion for him to move back to his table.

Surprisingly, he complies and slouches away. Fred watches you with awe as you sit down calmly, as if nothing happened, with people gawking at you. "Silent, but deadly," he thinks to himself, as he watches Hermione scold you for brandishing a fork at Malfoy, while Harry and Ron were chuckling amongst themselves about how funny his face was.

As you made your way to the entrance of the Great Hall, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You look around to see Fred grinning. "That was pretty cool, what you did back there," he remarked. You smile. "Thanks, I've been meaning to do that for awhile."

Fred smiles again. "He's a right git. He deserved that."

"So I assume we're going to the library?" you ask, strolling out with Fred. "I see you remembered our little study date, eh?" he grins.

"I don't remember calling this a study date," you say, looking at him. Fred groaned inwardly. "I-I didn't mean-"

"Nevermind, it's fine. I dont mind if we thought of this as a study date," you say, trying to cover up your blunt mistake, feeling bad for making Fred nervous.

He shrugs. "It's fine," he says. "Let's go on our study date, then." he decides with a playful smile.

Once you reach the library, you bring him to your favourite place, which was a tiny secluded haven. Little did Fred know, you were there half the time when you were formulating a new prank.

You had your secret stash of books there, filled with all sorts of stuff. Strategies, inventions and ideas. But, Fred needn't know that. It's Charms he needs.

So, you sat next to him, Fred happily finding comfort in a squishy armchair he claimed just seconds ago. So, on went the lesson.

And on went your plan for revenge on Malfoy.

After helping him with most of his homework, you excused yourself and went to sit a little further away at a desk while he finished up his essay.

You pulled a book out and started to read. Fred looked up at you as you read and blushed, remembering how cute you were when you focused. "Mind finishing your work before you admire me?" you ask, not taking your eyes of your book.

Fred chuckled. "I'm finished," he says. You close your book and move towards him, taking his parchment and reading it through to check for any mistakes. "Well, it seems that we're finished here," you say, giving the paper back to him and going to your desk to keep your book.

Fred smiled and stood up. "Well, I'm glad that you decided to help me. I wouldn't have been able to even pass this up without your help!" he says, while zipping his bag.

"I'm glad that you came to me for help, actually. Not many people thought that I would want to, since I don't talk much," you say.

"But you've talked plenty before!" Fred exclaims.

"'Course I have. Only when people initiate the conversation first. And only if I want to talk to them."

"Then I consider myself lucky that you wanted to talk to me," Fred jokes, laughing with you. You smile quietly before Fred leaves, when you said that you had work of your own to finish before going back to your Common Room.

Work, that is, for a prank to pull on a certain blonde brat.

Fred walks back in a daze, with a stupid smile on his face. When he went into the boys' dorms and sat on his bed, he shoved his face in to the pillow and hugged it hard. George and Lee who were playing a round of Exploding Snap watched with smirks on their faces.

"I assume your little study date with Y/N went well?" George asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," Fred answered happily.

---------

That night, he couldn't sleep. It was silly, the fact that he had fallen so hard for you that he was kept awake just by the mere thought of you. Yet, he wasn't complaining.

He sighed and sat up. "Oh, what's the use?" he grumbles to himself. He stood up and padded quietly to the door. When he opened it and sneaked down the stairs, he decided to go and have a nice cup of hot chocolate.

While he was navigating through the corridors, he heard footsteps. Quick and light, he noticed a shadow darting in the neighbouring corridor. He hurried over, and his eyes widened in surprise to find someone he wasn't expecting to see late at night. That certain someone who kept him up for the same reason.

You.

You had a bag slung over your shoulder, walking as quietly as possible. Fred looked down and noticed you weren't wearing shoes at all. He then saw you hurry down a flight of stairs, and through a secret passage that he never knew existed.

He quickly followed you, wondering what you were up to. He then noticed that you were heading in the direction of the Great Hall. He followed you curiously, watching you sneak through the giant doors towards the Slytherin Table.

He followed after you, but then accidentally stubbed his toe on the bench leg, causing him to hiss out a curse. He saw you lift your head, and then hide under the table. He limped padded towards you and rapped the table.

Underneath, you were hyperventilating. Shit, you thought. I didn't see anyone!

But then you heard Fred's hushed voice. "Y/N, is that you?" he whispers urgently. You peek your head out from underneath the table and looked up to see a bewildered Fred peering down at you.

".....yea?" you ask timidly, not sure of what to say to him. This was a rather awkward exchange.

"What're you doing here? And why do you have a marker-wait....," Fred asked, suddenly realising something. "Were you the one playing all those pranks?" he asks, surprised.

"What if I am?" you defend. Fred looked under the table to see a little contraption sticking out from underneath. He takes note of a little red 'X' beneath the table. "So you are," he notes.

"Please don't tell anyone! I'm sorry!" you blurt out. "Sorry? For what? And why in Merlin's name would I tell anyone?" Fred asks.

"I'm sorry that everytime I play a prank I let the blame fall on you! I just thought it was fun, playing tricks secretly," you mumble.

"Hey, it's fine! So, you ARE that famous secret prankster! Me and George have been dying to find out who it was! Your pranks are ingenious!" Fred exclaims.

You blush. "Thanks," you say. "I guess it helps that you're quiet sometimes, no one bothers you much," you say.

Fred looks at you in awe. "And I thought that you couldn't get anymore amazing," he says. "What?" you ask, confused.

Oh well, it's now or never.

"Well, Y/N, I've liked you for a while now, and I was wondering if you.....wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me on the weekend?" he asks shyly.

You weren't expecting this.

"Sorry-I-you don't have to if you want, I just-," Fred stammered.

Suddenly, you jump on him and hug him tight. "You're serious?" you ask, your voice slightly muffled.

"Yes?" he answered uncertainly, looking down at you. He was then taken by surprise when you kissed him. It was rather quick, but when you broke apart, both of you were blushing.

"I'd love to," you whisper with a shy smile.

"W-wait, really?" Fred asks.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" you ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Y-yea, especially before you kissed me," he says.

"Idiot," you snort, leaning in again, but this time kissing him slowly, his arms slowly winding around you and savouring the moment.

"I'd love to," you repeat. Fred's face breaks into a wide grin and spins you around, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"Shhh! Aren't you supposed to stay quiet?" Fred snickers. "Blame the one who caused me to make the noise!" you shoot back.

Both of you laugh amongst yourselves before sneaking back to your dorms.

---------

"So you're telling me that Y/N is the person who's been pulling all those pranks?!" George exclaims at breakfast, after Fred regaled his night time wander with him.

"Yes! And don't tell anyone! If they ask, just say that we don't know," Fred hisses.

George raised his eyebrows. "Don't you dare, or I'll hex you into next week," Fred threatens, brandishing his wand at his twin.

"I get the message. No one's gonna believe me anyways," George says, before diving into his breakfast. Fred looks around to see you stroll into the hall and he waves you over excitedly. You smile and walk over.

"Morning, beautiful," Fred greets, kissing your cheek and surprising people nearby.

"Hold on......since when were you and Y/N dating?!" Ron asks.

"Since just now," Fred retaliates, sticking his tongue out at his younger brother. "Are your feet cold?" he whispers to you.

"No? Why would my feet be cold?" you question.

"You were walking around barefoot last night! Your pretty feet must've been freezing!"

"I had my reasons for not wearing anything," you say mysteriously. "Oh? Do tell," Fred says.

"Shoes make too much noise. It would attract attention easily, what's to say no one'll hear me clacking around in the middle of the night?"

"Unless you stub your toe on something, the pain's a bitch," Fred grumbles, still salty about stubbing his toe last night since he was just wearing socks.

You snort, but is quickly drowned out by a loud yell coming from the Slytherin Table.

Everyone turns around and roars with laughter when they see Malfoy head-to-toe in some Colour-Changing Ink.

Fred noticed that Malfoy was sitting in the same place where he found the little device. His point was proven when a Slytherin cried out, "Hey! There's an 'X' on the floor!"

He looks at you with a wide grin. "So THAT'S why you snuck out! You're lucky no one caught you!"

Fred watches you in awe as you ask Hermione to pass the marmalade calmly while everyone was howling with laughter at Malfoy.

You smirk, leaning over to say to him quietly, "Told you, Weasley. Silence is golden."

[sankyeom]

lullaby | j.b

pairings: jacob bae x reader genre: neighbour au, strangers to lovers, kind of implied that you both are in college summary: in which your new neighbour sings you to sleep every night since the walls in your building are so thin, and you fall in love with his voice word count: 5.4k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration note: yes i’m in love with jacob’s a to boyz video. yes it inspired this fic. yes i’m going through it.

masterlist

When your old neighbour moved out, you couldn’t be happier at the news.

The girl living in the apartment next to yours used to blast her music late at night and into the early morning, and she always kept you up. Sometimes she did it just for fun, other times she did it to overpower the sound of her arguing with her boyfriend. Either way, you would be up at night wanting nothing more than to go over to your neighbour’s apartment and break her door down as a form of revenge.

But you didn’t, because you quite liked your apartment and didn’t want to give your landlord a reason to kick you out.

Instead, you and your other neighbours filed enough noise complaints to the building’s owner until the girl moved out on her own accord. If you had to pinpoint the worst three months of your life, it would be the time when that girl lived next door to you.

Of course it wasn’t entirely her fault; your apartment building had hilariously thin walls. Her music wasn’t the worst thing you had heard through the walls, but it was certainly the loudest and most consistent thing that bothered you.

For a few weeks, the apartment next to yours was vacant, and you were able to relish in the silence that you had been dreaming about for so many gruelling nights. One afternoon after you came home from your day of classes to find the elderly lady who lives a few doors down for you peeking outside her front door.

“Hi Mrs Kim,” you greeted her with a wave. Her eyes flitted over to you and she offered you a smile. Mrs Kim was your favourite neighbour by far. She always brought you treats when she made too many and made sure to check in on you regularly since you lived alone.

“Hi dear,” she waved back, eyes crinkling as she realised it was you.

“What are you up to?” you wondered.

“I’m just spying on your new neighbour,” Mrs Kim informed you, stepping out of her door frame to speak with you.

You sighed. “Another neighbour?” you echoed, craning your neck to see them move in.

If they were interesting enough to peak Mrs Kim’s interest, you wanted to see them for yourself. Alas, all you could see were boxes and bags piled outside the open front door of the apartment next to yours, the new tenant nowhere in sight.

“I was just getting used to having some peace and quiet around here,” you recalled as an afterthought, wincing at the memories of your last neighbour. Although you had no personal issues with her, you were glad to see the self-absorbed music-blaster go.

“I know dear,” Mrs Kim gave you a sympathetic smile, thinking back to how tired and cranky you were a while back. “But he looks kind,” she offered. “He greeted me very nicely and he even has a guitar! How wonderful.”

“A guitar?” you repeated, frowning. “Not electric, I hope?”

Mrs Kim laughed. “Don’t worry so much, Y/n,” she told you, patting your shoulder in an endearing manner. “He was quite handsome.”

You rose an eyebrow. You had been at the hand of Mrs Kim’s attempted set-ups many times before. “And that’s my cue,” you laughed, saying your goodbyes to Mrs Kim and making your way to your apartment. As you took your keys out and started unlocking your door, curiosity got the best of you and you tried to peer into your neighbour’s apartment for a sign of him. “What are you doing,” you muttered to yourself, scolding yourself for invading your new neighbour’s privacy and entering your apartment.

You awoke from your nap to the sound of music.

“Not again,” you groaned, thinking it was your new neighbour in your sleepy state. Soon, you realised that it was just your phone ringing, and felt a little guilty for immediately blaming your neighbour without even meeting him once. “Hello?” you picked up the call.

“Y/N!” your best friend Changmin yelled into your ear.

“Dude,” you groaned. “Why are you using your outdoor voice?”

“This is my indoor voice,” Changmin exclaimed, surprised that you had found him so loud. “You act like you don’t even know me.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you mumbled, putting your phone on speaker just to get it away from your ear. “What’s up? You woke me from my nap.”

“Mrs Kim told me that you have a new neighbour,” Changmin said casually.

You narrowed your eyes at your phone. “When did you talk to Mrs Kim?”

“I saw her at the convenience store,” Changmin happily informed you. “She said she’d give you some brownies for you to pass on to me in the next few days.”

You laughed at this. “How can you charm everyone around you, including the old ladies that live on my floor?”

“Never mind that,” Changmin dismissed. “New neighbour? What’s he like?”

“I don’t know,” you got out of bed to draw your curtains, letting what was left of the sunset brighten your room. You had fallen asleep while studying, and thus hadn’t set an alarm. “I haven’t met him yet.”

“Mrs Kim says he’s cute.”

“Mrs Kim says everyone is cute,” you scoffed. “That woman is a saint.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Changmin giggled. “Why are you napping this late? You won’t be able to fall asleep tonight if you nap for so long.”

“I know,” you hummed, stretching out and relishing in how relaxed you felt after your nap.

Your best friend was right, though. Whenever you napped in the late afternoon, you always struggled to fall asleep again that night. Of course, this wasn’t a problem when your monstrous neighbour blasted her music every night anyway, but once she left naps and a good night’s sleep were finally possible for you.

“Maybe my new neighbour will play me a lullaby on his electric guitar,” you joke.

“He has an electric guitar?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Mrs Kim says he carried a guitar into his apartment. I haven’t heard him play yet so I don’t know what kind. But I’m delighted to hear it.”

Changmin snorted. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, having been on the end of some rants about you possibly kidnapping your previous neighbour and threatening her to move out.

“Sure,” you exclaimed. “As long as he plays it during hours of the day where I want to be awake, I have no problems what-so-ever with a little rock and roll.”

“Hilarious,” Changmin said sarcastically. “Anyway, did you finish your Chemistry study guide?”

“Is that why you’re calling?” you wondered. “Pretending to be curious about my new neighbour just to steal my hard work and Chemistry notes.”

“You caught me,” Changmin said happily, no shame in his voice. “So?”

You flipped through your notes to see where you go up to before falling asleep. “Yeah I finished them. I suppose you want my Econ notes when I’m done with them too?”

“Forget Mrs Kim, you’re the real saint,” Changmin said in lieu of an answer.

“No need to butter me up, I’ve already agreed,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at your best friend’s antics. “I’ll text you pictures later.”

Once you said your goodbyes, you made your way into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for a hot drink before wandering back into your room to search for a sweater. Once your water was boiled, you made yourself a drink and snuck back into your bed to burrow under the covers and finish studying.

As you took a sip of your drink and flipped through your Economics notes, you heard the faint timbre of an acoustic guitar. Pausing, you stopped your actions and sat up straight, as if this would amplify the sound more so you could hear it.

You guessed your new neighbour didn’t have an electric guitar after all.

The warm chords that you could make out were soothing and whimsical, and you allowed yourself to get lost in your neighbour’s playing for a moment. Deciding that it would make good background study music, you set aside your headphones in favour of listening to your neighbour play his guitar.

Soon, you were already finished with your Economics study guide so you snapped a few pictures of them and sent them to Changmin, along with your study guide for Chemistry too. A quick glance at the clock told you that you had been studying for an hour and a half after napping, meaning that your neighbour was persistently playing for just as long.

Just as you started considering what movie to watch to kill time so you could feel tired enough to go to sleep, soft singing started to accompany the guitar playing coming from your neighbours’s apartment. His voice was rich and tender at the same time; filled with emotion and lyrics close to a mumble in terms of enunciating. Something about his voice made your heart flutter, just slightly. If you thought he was a good guitar player, you thought he was a phenomenal vocalist.

Rather than watching a movie, you tucked yourself into bed and went on your phone to scroll through social media for a while, just listening to the sound of your neighbour’s voice and the music he was playing.

It didn’t take long before your eyes started to feel heavy; lulled to sleep by the timbre of your neighbour’s voice and the warmth of the covers on your bed. Thanking your past self for already setting your alarm for your classes the next day, you were soothed into a deep sleep despite the fact that you took a lengthy nap that afternoon.

The next morning, you felt as though you had never slept so well in your entire life.

Your bed was almost impossibly cosy and you had to seriously motivate yourself to get out of bed and head to your lectures for the day. After getting ready and dressed for the day, you wrapped a scarf around your neck to fend against the biting cold autumn air. As you exited your apartment, you couldn’t help but linger your gaze on your neighbour’s door, wondering if he was still inside or if he had already left.

“He’s gone,” you yelped as Mrs Kim’s voice startled you out of your stare. She stood as if she hadn’t scared you, unfazed by your reaction. “He left two hours ago.”

You put a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm its erratic beat. “Mrs Kim,” you greeted. “You scared me.”

Mrs Kim ignored you, smirking knowingly at you. “So you saw him then?” she assumed. “You must have, if you’re looking at his door like you want him to come out of his apartment.”

“I didn’t see him yet, Mrs Kim,” you denied with a small smile. “I was in my apartment all night and I’m only just leaving now,” you added.

“Then why’re you staring?” she asked, bending down to pick up her cat from the floor.

“Just curious,” you said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. You wanted to know exactly who had sung you a lullaby that was so sweet it put you right to sleep. “Is he really that handsome, Mrs Kim? Not only did you tell me but you told Changmin about it too.”

“He’s very handsome,” Mrs Kim insisted, pushing a container into your arms with her free hand. “Speaking of your charming friend, that’s for him.”

The container had cut up brownies in it, and you almost laughed at how well Changmin and Mrs Kim got along. “Thank you Mrs Kim, I’ll be sure to give them to him today,” you promised, making your way down the hall and rushing to the bus stop so that you wouldn’t miss the last bus that would get you to college on time.

Somehow, it felt as though your new neighbour was avoiding you.

Either that, or the two of you just kept missing one another. Any time you had to leave, you could still hear him milling around his apartment. The only times you ever heard his front door open was when you were just getting home, or had no intention of leaving. Even Changmin, who was a social butterfly and constantly fluttered in between your friends’ places, never saw your neighbour when he came by to visit.

Without a fail, your neighbour played the guitar and sang every single night.

Sometimes he would play during the day as well, but he only ever sang at night. You assumed that he figured he could sing at night so that nobody else heard him, unaware of the paper-thin walls that separated your apartments. You wondered if it was because he was being courteous, or if he was just shy about singing when other people could hear. Either way, you definitely credited your neighbour to being the reason that you fell asleep peacefully every night.

You never had trouble falling asleep in general, but you mostly had very restless nights of sleep, even in the complete silence you heard when your neighbouring apartment was vacant.

Something about your neighbour’s voice just relaxed you to the point where you slept like a little baby.

The first time you met the owner of said voice, you were running late for class and cursing Changmin on the phone as he laughed at your misfortune. He had been teasing you all week about a presentation you were nervous about, saying that you were so well-prepared that the only thing that could mess it up was you missing the class entirely.

Then your alarm didn’t go off and you woke up half an hour later than you usually would on that day.

“Ji Changmin, you’re an ass,” you fumed, pulling your coat on as you opened the front door of your apartment. “You must have cursed me or something, or at least you spoke it into existence. I don’t know but if you don-“

“I’m so sorry!” a familiar voice exclaimed upon your impact with another body. Two hands reached out to steady you and prevent you from falling over, and your eyes met those of a brown-eyed man.

A beautiful, beautiful, brown-eyed man.

“Are you okay?” he asked, since all you had done since the two of you collided was stare at him. “You’re not… concussed, are you? Can you get concussed by bumping into someone?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out, taking in his sharp features and large, kind eyes. “I’m sorry. That was definitely my fault, I was rushing, and yelling at my friend,” you tried to explain, but were interrupted when he laughed.

“No harm done,” he assured you, a shy smile appearing on his face. “I’m Jacob. I just moved in next door, actually,” he introduced himself.

Jacob. Mrs Kim was right, he was very handsome.

“Hi Jacob,” you replied, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m-“

“Y/n, right?” he stated. At your surprised expression, Jacob only shrugged. “I talked to Mrs Kim from a few doors down. She told me all about you.”

“Oh gosh,” you laugh, covering your face with a hand. “I hope not everything. She’s seen me at my worst, let me put it that way.”

“All good things,” Jacob assured you in his velvety voice. “She speaks really highly of you. Says that you’re smart, kind, and that you have great taste in friends.”

You grin. “Ah, yes. My best friend seems to have charmed his way into her heart. That’s why he gets brownies in a Tupperware and I don’t,” you informed him. “I’m sure you’ll get there too.”

“I sure hope so,” Jacob nods. “I’m a terrible baker and brownies sound really good.” The two of you shared a laugh. “You said you were in a rush, right?” he seemed to recall, causing your eyes to widen.

“Yes! I need to run. I need to catch a bus, like,” you glanced at the time on your phone, realising how late you were and that you were still on a call with Changmin. “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Good luck,” Jacob smiled, waving at you as you said your goodbyes.

“Nice meeting you!” you called back to him, starting to jog down the staircase before bringing your phone up to your ear.

“Jacob, hm?” Changmin’s voice teased you.

“Watch it, Ji Changmin,” you warned. “You’re on thin ice already. Save me a seat!”

Other than being sung to sleep by him every night, your relationship with Jacob pretty much ended at your first meeting. The two of you always exchanged pleasantries when you passed each other in the hallway, and he had once informed you that he really had reached brownie-level friendships with Mrs Kim, but nothing beyond that.

You couldn’t say that you were surprised, considering how the two of you had such different schedules and you kept missing one another, but you somehow felt a little disappointed.

It felt a little bit like the two of you already knew each other, as you heard him sing every single night; hearing the emotion and vulnerability in his voice with every song. But you knew nothing about each other.

After a particularly gruelling day of your Chemistry lab class, you dragged your feet up the stairs to your apartment, feeling utterly exhausted and worn out by your class.

Your lab partner was the absolute worst. He was one of those types that thought he knew everything better than you because he was a Chemistry major, and he belittled you about every single step in the lab. Most of what he was saying was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to you because he was sure he was right.

Half a semester later, you had just gotten your midterm back and found out that you failed because the data from your experiments were incorrect, and your professor couldn’t give you full credit for any of your answers. Frustrated tears built in your eyes as you made you way to your apartment door, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

“This can’t be happening,” you whined when you realised that your keys were nowhere in your bag, and you had left them in your apartment that morning. “Seriously? Today of all days?” you exclaimed, wiping your cheeks to dry your tears as you headed for Mrs Kim’s apartment to see if she was home. You had entrusted her with a spare key to your apartment since you knew you couldn’t take care of it yourself, and becomes she was so close by.

Realising she wasn’t home, you trudged back to your apartment and sunk onto the floor, burying your face in your knees and letting out a sob. Your day had been mentally and physically exhausting enough without having to wait outside your apartment, in the cold autumn air, to anticipate Mrs Kim’s return so you could enter your apartment.

The door next to yours opened slightly, a soft, concerned voice calling out to you. “Y/n?” Jacob asked quietly, wondering why you were outside. When he noticed your crying, he immediately stepped outside and knelt in front of you. “Are you okay? What happened?” You could only sob in response, not having it in you to explain your situation to him. “Why are you crying?” sniffling, you managed to raise your head and point weakly at your front door.

“You’re locked out?” he guessed, earning a nod. “Okay, let’s go to my place,” Jacob offered you, holding his hand out to help you up. “I just made hot chocolate, and I have Disney Plus so we can watch something while you wait for Mrs Kim,” he paused when you didn’t say anything. “Technically, it’s not my Disney Plus account, but I have my friend’s password. He subscribed just to watch the Beyonce album film,” you laughed tearfully, which Jacob considered a success.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you admitted in a quiet voice, slightly raw from your crying.

“You? Bothering me?” Jacob exclaimed. “Never. Now c’mon. Our hot chocolate’s getting cold.”

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his outstretched hand and let him pull you to your feet, gently ushering you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. He motioned for you to take a seat on his sofa and you did so, taking off your coat and scarf as you adjusted to Jacob’s warm apartment.

“Here,” he placed two mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of you, taking a seat on a sofa next to you but giving you some space. You mumbled a quiet thank you before sipping on the hot drink, savouring the way it warmed your insides.

Spotting his guitar leaning against the wall next to the TV, you cocked your head in curiosity to see what it looked like. It was made of a light brown, almost yellow, wood and looked like it was treasured by Jacob. Not only was it in perfect condition, it also looked like it had been used for years already. You silently wondered how long he had been playing it for. “Do you play?” Jacob asked, noticing where your eyes were looking.

Shaking your head, you told him that you didn’t. “You’re really good, though,” you complimented before you could realise what you were saying.

Jacob blinked at you, eyes wide and lips pursed in surprise. “Me?” he echoed. “You’ve heard me play?”

Feeling stupid, you only nodded, sipping more of your hot chocolate as an excuse to think about what you wanted to say. “Um, yeah. Walls are kind of thin around here.”

Jacob blushed. “I’m so sorry,” he apologised. “I play until really late at night most of the time. I even-“ he paused, realising you had heard him sing. “I even sing,” he whispered, eyes flitting to the ground as his cheeks reddened further.

“You’re really good,” you complimented. “At singing, too.”

Jacob shook his head. “It must be annoying.”

“Not at all,” you denied. “My last neighbour used to blast angry-girl rock music. Now, I have nothing against angry-girl rock music, but I do when it’s being played at an ear-splitting volume into the early hours of the morning. That’s annoying. Your singing… It’s more like a lullaby,” you finished your thoughts in a whisper, shy at your explanation.

“Really?” Jacob was shocked.

You hummed in agreement. “I’ve never slept so well in my life,” you admitted with a small smile.

“Oh,” Jacob sipped on his mug to stop a huge smile from taking over his features. After meeting Mrs Kim for the first time, he was intrigued to meet the person she was speaking so highly of. When he ran into you, he felt flustered and excited because you were even more stunning than he could have imagined from Mrs Kim’s description. “I’m glad I helped, then. Even though the idea of you hearing me is mildly humiliating.”

“What!” you exclaimed, louder than you had intended to. “Why would it be humiliating? Your singing is… I can’t even describe it with words. It’s beautiful, Jacob.”

“You think so?” he asked in a disbelieving tone. Your eager nod made butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Thank you. That actually means a lot.”

“You don’t seem to believe me,” you observed.

“I’m not that confident in myself, or my playing,” Jacob explained awkwardly. “I’m more the quiet type, so it’s not so easy for me to put myself out there when it comes to music. I want my music to mean something to other people, and it’s how I communicate best, so…”

“Well, I can confirm first-hand that you’re amazing,” you offered. “I might not be as great of a musician as you, so my compliment might not mean anything to you, but I really believe it.”

Jacob bit his bottom lip, deciding to nod in response to your words, too shy to say much else. You took his reaction as a sign that he didn’t want to continue the conversation anymore, so you focused your attention back onto your hot chocolate. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he offered.

“I would love to leach off of your friend’s Disney Plus account,” you agreed, referring to how Jacob ranted a little about his friend. Jacob grinned, getting up to hang your coat and scarf up for you before he turned the TV on.

Being with Jacob in a more casual state was more fun than you had expected.

Once the two of you warmed up to one another, you found that Jacob was actually really goofy and fun when he got comfortable with you. He made terrible puns about the characters in the film you decided on, and his laugh made you want to squeal because he was so adorable.

Halfway through your second movie, you had fallen asleep as a result of the hot chocolate that had deliciously warmed your body, and the exhaustion from your emotional day. When Jacob noticed, he took one of the throw blankets form his bedroom and gently placed it over your body, getting up from the sofa to let you stretch out and get some rest.

The few times you woke up after falling asleep, you were lulled back to sleep and relaxed by Jacob’s soothing guitar playing and singing. Despite being tired, you were awake long enough to be pleased that Jacob seemed comfortable enough around you to play for you while you were still in his apartment, instead of just waiting until you left.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Jacob’s sweet voice gently calling for you to wake up. After opening your eyes, you saw Jacob kneeling in front of you with a bright smile and ruffled hair. “Hi sleepyhead,” he greeted, handing you a cup of tea. You sat up, rubbing your eyes with one hand and accepting the mug with the other. “Mrs Kim came by to drop off your key,” Jacob said. “I texted her last night.”

“Thank you,” you replied, surprised that he had gone out of his way to contact Mrs Kim when you were an emotional wreck who had forgotten all about it.

“She also said to wake you before noon because you have classes in the afternoon and you hate rushing,” Jacob added in thought, passing your spare key from Mrs Kim over to you. “Seems a little ironic since you and I seem to only ever meet when you’re rushing.”

You laughed at this. “What can I say, you always catch me on a good day,” you joke. “But seriously. Thank you. You really helped me out last night, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

Jacob waved you off. “No repayment needed. I’m just happy to get closer to you after being your neighbour for over a month already.”

His large smile was one that you hoped you’d be seeing more of. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re an angel?” you wondered, resting your head on your hand as you observed Jacob’s face. The fluttery feeling in your stomach didn’t surprise you anymore, not after he had saved you the night before. “Like an actual angel. Now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I think I see your wings.”

A giggle escaped the man next to you. “I’ve actually heard that before,” Jacob admitted sheepishly.

“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, sipping on the warm tea Jacob made for you. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven,” Jacob recited. “Do you have to get going?”

You nodded, finishing up your cup of tea. “I do, unfortunately. I have to go see my Chemistry professor and do some serious begging and grovelling.”

“Sounds rough,” Jacob gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well, I had a really good time last night.”

You smiled back easily, unable to hold it back. “I had a really good time last night too,” you assured him. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop,” Jacob laughed. “Don’t even think about it. I was happy to have you over.”

“I was happy to finally hear your playing in person,” you replied. “I only really heard it in and out of sleep, but I was still glad to hear it. Also,” you paused, unsure if you were going too far.

“Also,” he echoed, curiosity piqued.

“You said last night that you wanted your music to mean something,” you recalled. “It does mean something. To me, at least. It actually means a lot.”

“I think I can see those angel wings you’re talking about,” Jacob said. “Except they’re on you.”

“Very funny,” you laughed, getting up and finding your coat. “I really need to get going, though.”

“Okay,” Jacob nodded, walking you to the door. “I’ll see you around?” he offered, insecure that you wouldn’t want to spend more time with him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you corrected, flashing him a wink before you let yourself out. Jacob closed the door behind you and you let yourself sigh in delight, relishing in the evening you had together the night before.

“What are you doing walking out of your hot neighbour’s apartment?” you jumped, surprised by Changmin’s sudden presence at your front door. He held out a take-away cup of coffee for you.

“You scared me,” you told him, ignoring his comment as you accepted the coffee.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” Changmin scowled, following you into your apartment after you unlocked your door. “You came to school in those clothes yesterday. Did you hook up with your cute neighbour? Jacob?”

“You ask so many questions,” you complained, making your way into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. “No, I didn’t hook up with Jacob. I locked myself out and he graciously took me in for the evening, despite my emotional ugly-crying.”

Changmin laughed. “You would go stay at your hot neighbour’s house after having the crappiest day in the world,” he said, pleased at the outcome.

“Thanks, Changmin. Now I need to change so that I have enough time to beg our Chemistry professor to let me do extra-credit assignments so I don’t fail the class,” you added, feeling gloomy about what happened with your midterm the day before.

“Sure, sure,” Changmin nodded, taking a seat on your sofa and taking his phone out.

You made your way to your bedroom to change your clothes, going as quickly as possible so that you still had time to neaten your hair a little. When a knock sounded through your apartment, you called out to Changmin to open the door for you.

“Oh, hi!” you heard your best friend say in his usual chipper tone. “You must be Jacob! I’ve heard so much about you,” at the sound of Jacob’s name, you dropped your hair brush and rushed to the front door, where Changmin was smirking at your neighbour.

“Hey,” you greeted. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob assured you, glancing nervously at Changmin, who was still grinning at him.

“Could you give us a minute?” you asked Changmin, raising an eyebrow at his blatant eavesdropping. He sighed, sad that his fun was over, before he walked in the direction of your kitchen. “What’s up?” you smiled at Jacob.

He took a deep breath. “Would you want to get dinner some time?” he asked, tapping his foot as a nervous habit.

His question both surprised and delighted you. “Like a date?” you asked, hiding your smile.

“Like a date,” Jacob confirmed. “If you want.”

“I want,” you agreed, showing your smile. “I want a lot.”

“Great,” Jacob sighed, relieved. “I want a lot, too.” You giggled at how strange the two of you sounded.

“If you guys are going to start kissing, I suggest you do it now because we have to go,” Changmin called from the kitchen, ruining the moment.

Jacob pointed in Changmin’s direction. “He’s not coming to dinner, is he?” he asked.

You grinned. “Absolutely not.”

“How does tonight sound?” Jacob suggested. “Or is that too eager of me?”

“Just eager enough,” you assured him. “Pick me up at seven?”

“Sure thing,” he agreed, beaming as he stepped out of your doorway to go back to his apartment.

“I hope you don’t get lost on your way to my apartment,” you teased. “It’s awfully far from yours.”

“I’ll just follow the sound of your wings,” he called, waving before he disappeared into his apartment.

Dinner. You liked the sound of that.

note: second fic in my 2k celebration series!! i know that this fic and the last didn’t end with a kiss or a relationship but i still think the ending is cute, i hope it satisfies you!

[allthingskenobi]

Obi-Wan in Exile – Vader

(Originally published on AllThingsKenobi.com December 13, 2020)

Welcome to the first in a series of looks into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s time in exile on Tatooine between Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith and Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. We’ve tried to mine as much Legends and canon material as possible to help guide you through some of the period’s most common and repetitive themes so that when the new Obi-Wan Kenobi series airs, you’ll be ready.

Not everything he ever did in the entire 19 years will be explored here, but as we said, we’ve tried our best to pick out the most prominent and impactful moments to give everyone a better understanding of exactly what one hermit had to endure out there all alone in the sandy deserts of Tatooine.

While Vader himself was not a common reoccurrence throughout Obi-Wan’s exile, the threat of him certainly was…well until now that is. As Vader so often does, he’s recently made his way back to the forefront of the story and will seemingly loom very large over the upcoming series, thus moving us to start with exactly what that might mean for Obi-Wan and how it might work with the canon boundaries we currently have. Yes, we understand that canon can change and probably will, but we do love a challenge.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan muttered. “Vader’s alive.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Let’s start at the beginning. We have one instance in Legends where we see Obi-Wan learn that Vader survived Mustafar and it comes mere months after his exile on Tatooine begins. He first hears the name “Vader” mentioned again on the HoloNet during one of his trips into Mos Eisley and nearly faints before panicking to find a way to take Luke and run. (1) This early recognition seems to be reconfirmed in later canon as one of Ben’s greatest fears in the third year of his exile continued to be “sand crunching beneath heavy black boots, a dark cape billowing in the desert squall, the mechanical wheeze of a respirator.” (2) So will we see Obi-Wan only just learning of Vader’s fate in the tenth year of his exile? I’d say that’s highly doubtful unless the show provides a flashback for us—which we will gladly accept.

“Instead, Padmé was dead and Obi-Wan was running for his life, as stripped of everything as Vader was. Without friends, family, purpose…”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

At the same time, Vader was also very convinced that Obi-Wan was still alive and would remain so despite his greatest efforts. Because if there was one thing Vader was good at it, it was holding a grudge like he held a lightsaber, and he would expend quite a bit of energy over the 19 years between episodes III and IV searching for his old Master. (Just ask anyone he comes across in the comics.) Oh, and let’s not forget that it’s also Vader who would later inform a disbelieving Tarkin, in no uncertain terms, that Obi-Wan was still alive and on the Death Star. (3)

“No, I can’t [leave],” Ben said, firmly. “I must be here.”

KENOBI BY JOHN JACKSON MILLER L

“The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.”

DARK LORD: THE RISE OF DARTH VADER BY JAMES LUCENO L

Now that we’ve established that they both knew of each other’s survival, it begs the question as to why their paths never actually crossed in 19 years. Personally, I think it’s fairly simple: Obi-Wan would never leave Tatooine and Vader would never go anywhere near it. We will discuss Obi-Wan not leaving Tatooine more in-depth at a later time (and yes, we know what Ewan said about having a ‘rollicking time’), but Vader would canonically never visit his home planet until well after Obi-Wan and Luke were both gone. (4)(5) And by then it was much too late.

That brings us to the most recent ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ news and how that fits in with what Legends and canon have told us so far. We received a lot of exciting and thought-provoking announcements in a short amount of time, and frankly, our minds haven’t stopped spinning since. Could the show undo what we currently assume to be true? Yes. Could the show work within those same parameters? Also, yes. Do I personally have any idea what’s going to happen? No. DO I THINK THE SHOW IS GOING TO BE AMAZING NO MATTER WHAT? Y E S. The goal of this exercise is to simply try and reconcile the new details to the existing Star Wars lore because I think that’s what makes it interesting. So you can take it or leave it. The choice is yours. (Until it isn’t because the show has aired and this is all pointless.)

HERE WE GO.

“[Deborah] Chow confirmed that audiences will “definitely see Obi-Wan and Darth Vader get into it again” as we see the blue blade of a hooded Obi-Wan clash with the fiery red blade of Darth Vader.”

“McGregor knows the battle will be eagerly anticipated, and he’s looking forward to performing it just as much: “Having another swing at each other might be quite satisfying for everybody. We hope that you enjoy it as much as we’re going to enjoy making it.””

DEBORAH CHOW AND EWAN MCGREGOR DURING THE DISNEY INVESTOR’S REEL

Not only was the “Hayden Christensen returning as Darth Vader” bombshell dropped in our laps, but we were also fed the above morsels (not once but thrice) and told to digest them. Our first reaction was a hearty and well-deserved cry of rejoicing until the realization of what this could all mean set in and it turned into a hearty and well-deserved sob.

There’s hardly a way to be disappointed in the fact that we will see Ewan and Hayden not only together again, but “getting into it” as well, but we do have to wonder what this means for the moment where Obi-Wan and Vader face each other again on the Death Star. The moment is not only pivotal to Episode IV, but I would argue, the entire saga. And it’s made even more impactful by the fact that the two men have not physically confronted each other since their fateful battle on Mustafar.

What we do know, and that which should not change, is that Vader never knew where Obi-Wan was hiding nor that he had Luke, his son, with him. That tells me two things: whatever kind of “rematch” happens here does not endanger Luke’s safety in the long run nor is it probably something that would occur more than once. I think what we’re going to see happen is isolated and “unexpected,” occurring only once ten years into Obi-Wan’s exile.

You: But, All Things Kenobi, if they could never physically meet on Tatooine or elsewhere, then what does this all mean??

Us: Do we look like Deborah Chow or Ewan McGregor? Do we have all the answers for you? NO! But can we try to help ease your mind until the show airs and I’m proven all sorts of wrong?? YES! SO PUT ON THAT TINFOIL HAT AND LET’S DO THIS!!

“I sense something. A presence I’ve not felt since…”

STAR WARS EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE C

“Obi-Wan once thought as you do.”

STAR WARS EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE JEDI C

Instantly our minds turned to these two particular comments from Vader in Episodes IV and VI. They’ve always stood out as peculiar, demanding explanation, but even more so now. The first is a vague, open-ended statement that leaves us to assume they hadn’t met again since they parted on the slopes of Mustafar. The second is a seemingly wistful reminiscence of a memory Vader has of his old master.

Luke had just finished making a heartfelt plea for Anakin to remember his “true self” then says, “come with me.” Where did Obi-Wan make the same appeal to only be shunned by Vader as well? Is it possible the series will show us this after all these years and possibly solve the riddle of both enigmatic statements at once? Is it possible that any such conversation might quickly devolve into another lightsaber-fueled clash??

“Count Dooku was Yoda’s apprentice.”

“And Count Dooku has fallen to the dark side.”

“All of us have apprenticed to Master Yoda.”

“He cannot be held accountable for Dooku’s descent.”

“But they are connected. Profoundly.”

THE CLONE WARS 6×11 “VOICES” C

A distinct bond exists between each Padawan and Master and unfortunately that bond does not disappear when one or the other becomes a Sith Lord. Despite the bond between Obi-Wan and Anakin being firmly closed at both ends, there’s no doubt that a presence remains. And even the most sturdy walls might crack from time to time.

Even after 19 years apart, Vader is quick to recognize when Obi-Wan is nearby and goes so far as to know his intent. “Escape is not his plan. I must face him alone.” And he’s right. (3) As for Obi-Wan, the Force has plagued him with dreams and visions, even showing him “a limbless wreck hanging in a bacta tank, necrotic skin pallid and scarred.” (2)

Could their strong connection be the vehicle that allows Obi-Wan and Anakin to confront each other once more? Within the Force they could not only converse, but we could also see them “take another swing” at each other without any physical consequences no matter who “wins.” The mental toll would also make for great drama for both men and bring a new perspective and emotional weight to several scenes in the Original Trilogy.

“If you loved me, Obi-Wan, you would have killed me.”

STAR WARS: DARTH VADER 24 BY KIERON GILLEN C

Finally, it’s quite possible that Obi-Wan might not physically be involved at all in their “rematch” and it might be entirely from Vader’s perspective. One theory could be as simple as the fact that Vader once had a training droid whose deadliest combat setting took the form of his former master. (Oh, Anakin.) (6) Another theory, and a much more likely one, could be that Vader has a Force vision or dream that allows him to recreate and relive various moments between himself and Obi-Wan, including, but not limited to, another lightsaber battle. This would be interesting to witness as every time it occurs, it means that Vader is wrestling with Anakin.

Although the Obi-Wan that continues to exist in Anakin’s psyche doesn’t seem too different from the real thing, just imagine Ewan McGregor getting to play Obi-Wan from Anakin’s point of view…I’ll just drop my mic there.

Star Wars: Darth Vader 24 by Kieron Gillen (2016) C

Star Wars: Darth Vader 5 by Charles Soule (2017) C

Citations:

(1) Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader by James Luceno L

(2) “Time of Death” – From A Certain Point of View by Cavan Scott C

(3) Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope C

(4) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2016 by Kieron Gillen C

(5) Star Wars: Darth Vader 2020 by Greg Pak C

(6) Star Wars: The Force Unleashed (2008) by Haden Blackman L

[ahsbitch]

The Grey-Outpost!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 5143

Summary: So I got this message for my prompts and it was supposed to just be a blurb like the others but it was already getting way too long and then I realized it would fit really well with a oneshot idea I had a month or two ago sooo here we are

Warnings: so many, nsfw, smut, virginity loss, first time, first orgasm, actually first three lmao, fingering, choking, Mean!Michael, slapping, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, brief blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding kink, a little bit of corset kink, some cockwarming bc it’s me, very Sub!Reader, also overly nice reader which probably doesn’t need a warning but I’m putting it anyway, , mentions of violence, some waxing poetic bc again that’s just me, floor licking, some?underwear stuff? Idk man, did I mention swearing bc that’s here too, idk, that’s all I can think of but my brain is not entirely focused so if I missed something I’m sorry

A/N: I’m sorry I’m like this but I hope it’s okay. Comments are always appreciated! Even just in the tags of a reblog! Or a message! Or anything! Hearing your reactions makes me feel so good!

Mini Tag List: @wroteclassicaly​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @guiltyfiend​

@angelicmichael​

(i actually don’t remember if all of you asked to be tagged in stuff or not so if you didn’t i’m really sorry i just thought i’d put a few people, if you want me to...Not tag you in stuff that’s totally cool and i totally get it just let me know, if you do want me to tag you in stuff also let me know on that front) 

You confused Michael Langdon. 

It wasn’t intentional, he was sure, but he was not used to being confused by the behavior of humans.

You also annoyed him, although that was less surprising. 

Most people annoyed him. 

But you annoyed him for the same reason that you confused him, and that just made him all the more confused and annoyed and annoyed and confused. 

How the hell were you so nice? 

You treated everyone who crossed your path with such kindness, even though most of them treated you like you were dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. And you simply...smiled? Nodded? Did as they said, if they gave an order, or ignored them if it was just words. 

He had never even seen you complain about your servant status, never seen you look at the drab grey of your dress with even an ounce of disdain. 

He’d taken to reading your thoughts, even more than he did with the others, trying to find the cruelty hidden inside you. 

Once, one of the Purples whose name Michael hadn’t bothered to learn had walked into a ladder that you were standing on for some job or another, and you had fallen to the ground, landing hard on your back. The Purple had cursed at you for getting in his way, and you apologized instantly. 

What an asshole, You had thought, and Michael had started to get excited, but a moment later you had shaken your head at yourself, and your thoughts continued, No, Y/N, don’t be unfair. They live a different type of life here. It’s not his fault that he sees me like this at this point, he’s practically been indoctrinated.

What utter bullshit that was, and yet you’d seemed completely contented with that thought, climbing back onto the ladder to finish your task. 

Another time he had walked in on you being beaten while Venable watching, smirking. He had simply stared for a while, watching the way you took your blows. 

“What’s going on?” Michael had asked, blood boiling at Venable’s smug expression. 

“A reminder. She’s been a bit slow in her work lately. Distracted, I think, with your proposal of paradise. She needed to remember her place.” 

He had nodded, turning back to observe you, listening for your reaction to those words. 

I haven’t been slower, though. She’s just been angrier. Poor Ms. Venable, she must be scared. I wish she wouldn’t take it out on me, Your stream of thought had paused as you let out a cry of pain, But I hope that she’ll find some type of peace. 

In interviews, Michael had started to ask about you. 

“She’s nice,” Gallant had said rather dismissively, “That’s about it. Not memorable. I don’t think anyone would miss her.” 

“She helps everyone finish their work, even though she has her own,” Another Grey had said, tilting his head to the side in thought, “I saw her take a beating in Mallory’s place once for a broken lamp. I don’t think that’s the only time she’s done that, either. She’s a little too sweet, almost. It can’t be real, can it?”

That was Michael’s thought too, but you were that sweet, or so it seemed. 

He’d begun instructing everyone during their interviews to either completely ignore you or be cruel to you, to treat you with extra disdain, to not bother with respect. He’d told Purples and Greys alike, had watched out to see them following his orders. They were doing it, and you were slowly becoming more and more alone,and yet you never so much as thought anything cruel in return. From time to time, a nasty thought would pop into your head, but you always brushed it away almost instantly, scolding yourself into something overly forgiving of their behavior. Still, you were lonelier than ever, and that meant that it would be all the easier to draw you to him. 

Your interview was the last one that was scheduled, and with every moment that led up to it he found himself getting more and more ready to break you down, and every time he thought of that he found his cock getting harder and harder. 

He was going to ruin you, in more ways than one. 

And then the interview had started, you sitting in your chair with your hands folded neatly in your lap, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with him, a polite smile on your face, and something had snapped deep inside him. 

He wasn’t sure what did it. Maybe it was your answer to why you should be taken to the Sanctuary. 

“I don’t know that I should,” You’d said simply, your damned respectful smile never wavering, “I mean, it would be nice. But I’m not particularly special, right? And if the Sanctuary is meant to be people carrying on the human race, shouldn’t it be the people who are going to make the biggest difference? I know you said that what I thought i was weakness could be my saving, and I get that, I just don’t know if I have any particular weaknesses or any particular saving graces. If you need someone to wash floors or cook in the Sanctuary, then yeah, I’m pretty good at those things. You might want me. But I don’t know that I have any particular talents or powers that would make me more useful than anyone else.” 

Maybe it was what you had said when he’d asked about your anger, about whether or not you would get revenge on any of the others for the way they’d treated you, if you got the chance.

You shrugged, taking a few moments to think about your answer before you spoke, “No. I don’t blame them for it, not really. The world ended. The fact that any of us are alive is strange enough as it is. Them being cruel is probably more of a defense mechanism than anything else. I wish they wouldn’t use me for their anger, or their disdain, or their sadness, I kinda wish they’d just leave me alone sometimes, but I wouldn’t want to get revenge even if I got the chance. I don’t think they deserve to be treated badly, even if they’ve treated me badly.” 

But most likely, it had been your answer when he’d asked what exactly you were thinking about right in that moment. 

“The end of the world, Mr. Langdon, sir,” Your smile finally dropped for just a moment, your embarrassment evident, “And your eyes. They’re very beautiful. I was thinking that heaven probably isn’t real, but if it is, it probably looks something like your eyes. But of course it’s much more likely that hell is real, based on recent events, in which case it probably looks something like the world we live in right now.” 

Michael had stood, instructing you to do the same, and within moments his lips were on yours. 

Yes, he was going to ruin you in every way possible. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was so totally not how you had planned for your interview to go. 

Was it how Langdon had planned for it to go? Maybe. You wondered vacantly if this had happened with all of his other interviews, if all of them had found themselves lying on the floor, pinned underneath him, feeling him hungrily devouring their mouths in perhaps the best kiss that anyone had ever experienced. 

He trailed kisses down to your throat, hot, open mouthed, that you felt even though they were over the high collar of your dress, and he bit down hard, sucking harshly through the fabric. 

“Fuck!” You groaned out, feeling your skin go hot with embarrassment over the noises you were making. 

“Don’t hold back, pet,” He moved his mouth to your ear, kissing the spot just behind your earlobe as he murmured, “You make the most delightful little noises.” 

This served only to embarrass you more, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek to try and hide the moans that threatened to spill from you. 

Langdon’s hand made its way to your neck, squeezing at it as he pulled your head up closer to his, and you let out a pained whine at the pressure his palm put onto the sore spot he had just left on your throat, “Did you not hear me? Don’t hold back. I expect you to follow my orders. I’d think you’d be used to that by now.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” You let out a strangled cry, and with a sharp smile he finally released you, letting your head drop back against the floor. 

“Next time you don’t listen to me, you will be,” He chuckled at your terrified expression, but after a moment he froze, raising a curious eyebrow at you, “What are you thinking about right now?” 

You weren’t naive enough to think that he actually cared about how you were feeling, but you answered anyway, scared of what may happen if you didn’t, “Honestly? I’m trying to decide if I’m more likely to be murdered by you or by Ms. Venable.” 

Langdon laughed again, moving off of you and leaning against the wall. He looked oddly comfortable like that, although you wouldn’t be surprised if his outfit cost more than the entire Outpost, and with a wolfish grin he patted his lap gently. 

You frowned, unsure of what that meant, but Langdon simply rolled his eyes and wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugging you into his lap. 

This was… odd.

After a moment, he gripped both of your wrists, raising your arms up and placing them on his shoulders, and you locked your fingers around the back of his neck, staring dumbly at him as you did so. 

His legs extended straight out, but he held you steady in his lap, arm wrapped your hips, your own legs perpendicular to his. 

This was very odd. 

“Now tell me,” It was interesting, the way Langdon’s words sounded more like a purr, “Why do you think that I would kill you?” 

Shyly you dropped your gaze, but then his hand was under your chin, lifting until you looked him in the eye, and you shrugged, “I mean… you said you would. It was like the first thing you told me when I came in. That if I lied or hedged or anything like that you’d...y’know...obliterate me.” 

“And have you lied to me?” His voice was sharp now, his eyes dangerous, although something playful still danced around the edges of his lips. 

“No!” You flinched, prepared for him to hit you even though he made no movement to do so, and after a minute, after you’d realized that no strike was coming, you blinked at him, “I, uh, no, sir. But you’re, well, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Langdon, but you’re very intimidating.” 

He was frowning now, just a little, and you probably wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t been so fascinated by his mouth, “I’m glad you find me intimidating. I’d be a bit concerned for your sanity if you didn’t. But I have no plans at the moment to kill you, and as long as you keep telling me the truth like this, I doubt it’ll arise. Now, why would Venable kill you?” 

“She’s strict about her rules,” You felt your face heating up again, “No sexual contact of any kind. And we, y’know, we kissed. If she finds out, well, she’d even kill a Purple for breaking the rules so explicitly like that. She’d kill a Grey for a lot less.” 

“And we’ll be doing a lot more,” Langdon’s smooth voice echoed in your ears, and you shivered slightly at the insinuation, “Venable will not touch you.”

“Why not?” Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked before you could think about the fact that it was probably a bad idea. 

Luckily, Langdon did nothing more than chuckle at you again, shifting slightly underneath you, “Because if anyone here is going to harm you, pet, it’s going to be me.” 

For some reason, his words made you clench your thighs, and you swallowed to avoid letting out a whine. 

“Yes sir,” You said softly, and then, when he’d started pressing kisses along your jaw, “There’s one more thing.” 

“And what would that be?” 

Clearing your throat, you fought to keep holding eye contact with him, “I don’t, I mean, I don’t want to be one of those people who fucks someone to get something. I don’t want to sleep with you just in hopes of going to the Sanctuary, especially because you could easily say you’re going to take me until after we’re done and then tell me you’ve changed your mind or something. I don’t want that. I’d rather you just... tell me the truth now.” 

“Alright,” Sighing, Langdon straightened up a little, shifting beneath you again so that you suddenly became aware of his erection pressing into you, “You’re not going to the Sanctuary, Y/N. Not even if we fuck. And we are going to fuck, you understand that, right?” 

“Yes sir,” You felt your gaze drop to his lips once more, “I understand. The Sanctuary thing and the fucking thing. May I please kiss you again?” 

“Not only may you do so, but I insist that you do,” His voice was cold now, but one look into his eyes showed you that he was pleased about this, and you frantically brought your mouth to his. 

Langdon slammed you back to the ground, and your head cracked loudly against the marble floor, making you feel a bit dizzy, and then his fingers found their way between the buttons of your dress and he pulled sharply, ripping it in half, and that made you feel even dizzier.

Holy fuck, how strong was he? 

“Lovely,” He murmured, his mouth running over your collarbones and up the curves of your neck, sucking dark bruises onto your skin as he went, “Don’t forget what I told you. I want to hear every single one of your sounds, understood?”

“Yes sir,” Your hands made their way to his hair almost of their own accord as he continued on, mouth drifting down to swirl over your covered nipples. 

“Turn around,” Langdon commanded, and he hummed his approval when you followed his instructions in merely a moment, kneeling before him but facing the wall. 

His long fingers made their way to the ties of your corset, beginning to work on the knot, and he frowned, “This is tied very tightly, pet. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“I had Mallory tie it extra tightly for me, so I would have something to focus on other than my nerves for the interview,” You let out a hiss of relief as the corset came untied, “It wouldn’t hurt much, but you’re supposed to wear something under a corset, and Ms. Venable doesn’t give the Greys anything to wear under our corsets because she says our comfort isn’t a priority. So it kinda digs into my-ow, fuck, my skin.”

Your cry of distress had come when Langdon’s hands had pressed hard into the red marks that marred your back from your corset. 

“It really has done a number on you,” He helped you unclasp the front of your corset and slip it off, before bringing his hands to your hips, “Get on all fours.” 

You did as he said, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do so, but you understood a moment later when the wet warmth of his tongue began to stroke along your spine. He licked along each mark that had been left behind, leaving a trail of coolness to follow, and although it stung with each moment of contact, it left some relief as he went. You mewled at the feeling, back arching towards him, desperate for more. 

“Feel better?” He purred, now drawing his nose around your spine.

“Yes,” You sighed pleasantly, “Thank-fuck!”

Langdon had shifted his arms so that one ran under your stomach, holding you in place, and with the other he brought his palm down on your back with all his strength. 

Tears were starting to spill from your eyes, leaving a puddle on the floor as he struck you four more times in quick, painful succession. 

“Aw, does it hurt, pet?” He was cooing at you, voice light and mocking, “Look at you. You’ve made a mess on my floor. Clean that up for me, yes?” 

Unsure of what that meant, you tried to look back at him to ask, but Langdon wrapped his hand around your neck and forced your head to the floor, his entire body pressed against yours, “Clean it up.” 

Hesitantly, you reached your tongue out to the floor, scooping the salty moisture up carefully. The pressure on your throat lightened up so that you could breathe more easily, but he didn’t remove his hand, and you frantically licked the rest of your tears off of the floor. 

Letting you sit up, he smirked at your shy smile, examining the floor carefully before praising you, “Wonderful job, pet. But it appears that the mess on the floor isn’t your only one. You seem to have made quite a mess down here as well.”

With that his hand cupped your pussy over your panties, which had become thoroughly soaked through. He pulled them down slowly, a rumble rolling past his lips at the sound the fabric made as it tried to cling to your damp flesh. He gave a tug and ripped them off of your thighs, bringing the shredded remains up to his face to examine it closely. Staring into your eyes, he poked his tongue out of his mouth and brought it to the fabric, laving slowly over the wetness that coated it. You moaned loudly at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. 

When Langdon was satisfied that he had gotten every drop of your essence off of the scraps of your underwear he tossed them carelessly in the direction of his desk, and then his tongue was on you once again, this time drawing painfully slow stripes from your knee up your inner thigh, ending just at your hip bone. 

“Did you like watching me?” There was amusement in his voice, a kind of mirth that could almost be mistaken for warmth, as he licked closer and closer to where you wanted him most, never deigning to touch you there, “Did it make you even more wet for me? Do you want me to eat your pretty little pussy until you can’t walk? Want me to let you drench my face?” 

“Please, yes, please!” You keened towards him and Langdon clamped his hands onto your thighs to hold you in place, bringing his thumbs down to spread your pussy lips open. There was something so intimately dirty about it that you let out another long moan, his breath fanning hot air against your folds, “Langdon, please, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He scoffed, nuzzling his nose over your entrance, “You’d do anything I asked anyway. But I will say, you have just about the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. And you smell divine, pet.” 

Whimpering, you tried to rut up to his mouth, wanting so badly to feel him against you, “Please, sir, Langdon, please, what do I have to do for you to touch me?” 

At those words, Langdon moved away from you completely, now not even letting his fingers drift over your skin, “Was I not touching you before? You’re incredibly ungrateful for someone who I could kill with less than the blink of an eye.” 

“I’m sorry,” You scrabbled to your knees, legs shaking, “I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m so grateful to you, I am, I’m sorry.” 

“As you should be,” He sneered, but the bulge in his pants looked even larger than it had before, and the corners of his lips twitched up, “You do look very good on your knees for me. I think this is the position you’re meant to be in, the reason you were put on this earth. Why else would you look so lovely like this, look like such a pretty little slut? Open your mouth for me, pet.” 

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Eagerly, you complied, wrenching your mouth as wide open as you could, desperate to please him. Langdon unzipped his dress pants, reaching into his boxers and stroking himself, letting out a deep and rumbly groan as he finally pulled himself out. 

His cock was... beautiful? You hadn’t expected to find it so beautiful. The few dicks you had seen you had mostly found odd, fine enough but not particularly nice to look at, but Langdon’s looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo himself. 

It was also huge, as thick as your wrist and at least as long as your forearm, the tip a throbbing angry crimson. It was veiny, and you would’ve expected that to be strange but it just made it even prettier, an extra long and thick vein running up the side that oddly made your mouth water. 

A fresh wave of desire pulsed through you, but that didn’t stop your worry as he approached you, speaking your anxiety out loud, “Is that... I mean, is that going to fit?” 

Chuckling, Langdon pushed himself into your mouth with no warning, holding the back of your head with one hand as he began an intense, bruising pace, “What’s the matter, little whore? Never been with someone this big?”

That’s one way to put it. 

He froze suddenly, buried down your throat, his pelvic bone pressed against your nose, and slowly he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, “Wait, you’re a virgin?”

You nodded slowly, and Langdon hissed at the movement, slowly pulling himself away from you, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You didn’t ask,” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to massage your jaw, “I didn’t think it would matter, I’m sorry. Does it change things?” 

Langdon gripped your hair, and he pulled you to your feet and into a bruising kiss all in one swift movement. Then his hands were all over you, stroking your skin fervently as he led you to his chair, sitting down and pulling you into his lap once more. The feeling of his dress pants against your bare skin was sinfully lovely, and you were suddenly aware of how exposed you were, when you could see almost nothing of him. 

After what felt like hours, he pulled away from you, his eyes dancing with something deeply dangerous, a brilliant smile on his face, “Of course it matters, pet I wouldn’t have even considered wasting any of my cum in your mouth if I knew your perfect cunt was untouched, waiting for me.” 

You let out a cry as he grabbed onto your hips tightly, beginning to draw you up and down over his length. His cock pressed into your folds, rubbing your clit, and every time he approached your entrance you gasped, “Holy, oh my, fuck, that feels good, Langdon I-”

“Michael,” He interrupted, moving you faster. 

“What?” You blinked up at him in confusion, and he felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“My name is Michael Langdon,” He pressed a kiss to your neck, beginning to suck a new line of hickeys, “You can call me Michael.” 

“Michael,” You sighed, clenching around nothing as a strange sensation started to boil in your stomach, something so pleasureful that you didn’t know what was happening, “Oh, fuck, Michael, you feel so good, please, can’t you just fuck me?” 

“Oh believe me, I’m going to,” His cock was twitching even more now, your name so perfect from his mouth, “But you have to be ready for it first. Come on, pet, come for me, just like this.” 

You mewled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the boiling in your stomach became more, became overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you let out a desperate shriek. 

“I didn’t, oh fuck, oh god, I didn’t know it would feel that good,” You panted, and Michael raised an eyebrow at you yet again as you buried your face in his shoulder. 

“Have you... have you never had an orgasm before?” 

You shook your head against him, letting out another gasp as one of his fingers started to toy around your entrance, “No, I haven’t. I mean, I thought I might have once, but it was nothing like that.”

“Have you ever had any fingers inside you?” He asked, even as he was already easing a finger into you, giving your walls a single stroke before he pushed two more in. 

“No!” You shrieked, the foreign sensation making you buck your hips wildly, “I, I mean, no, I haven’t.” 

Cock throbbing harder than ever before, Michael began to scissor his fingers around, stretching you out, “Fascinating. My little whore is so inexperienced.”

Moaning at his words, you lurched when his middle finger hit a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, “M-m-Michael, please!”

“M-m-Michael! M-m-Michael!” He mocked you, scooping the hand that wasn’t busy working you open under your ass, shifting out of the seat and lowering you to the ground, his mouth finding its way to your tits, “Wait, pet. Be a patient slut for me and you’ll be rewarded.” 

You nodded as he bit your nipple, toying with it roughly before kissing over to the other side, “Sorry, sorry, oh holy fuck that feels good.” 

Another orgasm was forming deep within you, more mewls leaving your throat as you desperately started to claw at his back, “Michael, fuck, Michael, I’m going to-”

“Good girl,” He purred, pulling his fingers out of you just as you started to cum, and then he slammed his cock into you with no warning, delighting in the bloodcurdling scream that you let out, letting out a guttural moan, “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Desperate little slut, you were so ready for me to stretch you out, huh?”

“Wait, Michael,” You let out a sob, your cunt pulsing with overstimulation, “Michael, it’s too much, it hurts, please.” 

He was completely bottomed out in you, not moving yet, but he brought both hands up to wrap around your throat, cutting off all of your air, “Now now, pet, that’s no way to thank me for being so kind to you. You’ve cum twice now, haven’t you? And have I gotten to cum even once? No. Now, are you going to be good for me?” 

You nodded fervently, and he released you, leaving you gasping, “Sorry, sorry, Michael. I’m sorry.” 

“Good,” Michael started to pull out of you ever so slowly, moving at a glacial pace until just his tip was inside of you before thrusting in again, filling you up once more, “Oh, you feel good. Your pussy is fluttering all around me. But I should tell you, Y/N, I lied to you.” 

You let out another shaky sob as he hooked his hands under your knees and stretched your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders, continuing his pace of slow drags out followed by impossibly fast thrusts in, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth silk that covered his back, “Wh-what? What do you mean?” 

“I told you I wasn’t going to take you to the Sanctuary,” He grunted, his pace getting somehow even slower, in and out both, your slapping skin making loud, lewd noises, “I lied. I am. I’m going to pump you full of my cum, pet, until you’re overflowing with me. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and then we’re going to rule over the new world, together.” 

“I don’t understand,” Shrieking again, a whine bubbling out of your throat, you gasped as his hands moved to your tits once more, “Please, Michael, please can you go faster?”

It still hurt, but it was getting better, the pain being overrun with the pleasure. 

Michael complied, slamming into you, setting such a brutal, bruising pace that you were sure you could feel him all the way up in your stomach, “That’s my good little pet. Look at this, your pussy is devouring me. I’m going to wreck you, gonna mold your pussy around my dick so that you know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel good. Your perfect little pussy was made for me, and me alone. You were made for me. Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, these perfect tits,” He gave your breasts a harsh squeeze, running his thumbs over your nipples as you let out another scream, “They’re gonna be full of milk before you know it, filled up for our baby. Do you want to have my baby, pet? Do you want me to breed you? Fill you up? Ruin you for anyone else with my cock?” 

“Yes!” You sobbed, although you were barely conscious of what you were saying, barely even conscious of what he was saying, another orgasm fast approaching, “Michael, please! Fill me up! I need you!”

“Then cum for me,” Growling, he brought his nose down to touch yours, “Squeeze my cock with that tight pussy of yours, finish for me, and accept my seed knowing that you belong to me now, understood?” 

“Yes, yes, yes! Michael, I’m yours, I belong to you, yes!” Your screams were echoing around the room now, but you couldn’t hold back, not when he felt so good, and this time rather than a boiling in your stomach your orgasm felt like an awakening, like you were being reborn. 

You came harder than you knew was possible and Michael quickly followed suit, pumping you full of his thick, hot ropes of cum, more than he had ever cum before, filling you all the way up. 

Whimpering, you sat up, and rather than letting you move away Michael pulled you to his lap and dragged himself to the wall to lean against once again, hushing your mewls with a kiss, “Good girl. That’s my good little pet. I’m gonna stay inside you, okay? Gotta make sure you don’t lose a single drop.”

Nodding, you felt your eyelids start to flutter, your head dropping to his chest, “Yes, Michael. I’m...I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, little one, I know you are. Get some rest now. No one will interrupt us. Rest, my sweet, and have dreams of the future we will build together,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, and letting out a happy hum as he felt you already drifting off, and before he did the same he whispered in your ear, “I’m proud of you.”

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from this)

It was a perfectly normal day on Rhodes Island, and W was in terrible pain. Not physical pain, no, that was far more easy to stomach. No, the pain she was experiencing was emotional, spiritual, existential, like she was dying, and in a way, she was. Her purpose, it seemed, was dying, falling through her hands like ash in an ivory hourglass, counting down to the moment she finally had to admit that he was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t, at least not physically; she’d had her suspicions when she’d first confessed to the new Doctor, simultaneously feeling him out mentally as she did physically, but there were no cracks to tear into, no masks to peel back, no openings to dive through. This new Doctor who’d taken the old one’s body - which she’d finally found proof of when she’d seen his bare back lying in her bed this morning, the morning after the first salvo of the apocalypse - had in fact fully consumed him, subsumed him, replaced him, leaving nothing but confusion and disbelief and dread and sorrow in his wake...Well, maybe not in his wake, since that implied anyone but W felt like this, but-

There was a knock on the bathroom door. A familiar voice - an all too familiar voice - in an unfamiliar-until-recently tone. “Dubbs? You’ve been in there for awhile now, and I haven’t heard a flush...Is everything okay?”

“I’m...fine.” No, not even slightly, and the Sarkaz knew he’d read it in the tone of her response, but there was nothing she could do about that. There was nothing she could, period. Everything had fallen apart, every plan fallen through, every scheme to unveil the imposter and execute him for his treason proven to be castles built in and of sand-

“Alright.” The Doctor gently slid his hand along the door a couple of times. Maybe symbolically patting her head or something? “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

She did. “Actually, could...could you come in here? I didn’t lock it.”

“Yeah, of course.” With the speed he did just that, there was no denying he’d had his hand on the knob in case...in case of what? What would she have- oh. Yeah, there was that possibility, wasn’t there? The coward’s way out? No, not her, not today at least.

“I, um...” Damnit, there wasn’t a way for her to look badass and say this, was there? Fuck it, why start caring about that with him now? “You’ve got me really fucked up right now, Doctor.”

He didn’t react to that nearly as strongly as she expected; all he did was squat in front of the (closed) toilet she was sitting on and gently caress her cheek. “How so?”

“You’re too...good. Too not evil. Too not...the you I need to kill.”

“You’re starting to realize that guy’s not around anymore, huh?” A moment passed after he finished those words, and W collapsed onto him. “Oh, Dubbs-”

The Sarkaz pounded a fist against his right shoulder. “It’s not fair! I was supposed to come back from all this time, training to be the right kind of cold-hearted killer and saboteur to destroy him from the roots up, and utterly annihilate him in revenge for what the Doctor did to Theresa, but I come back - at your request - to find that Rhodes Island is some damn paradise, and the Doctor is now the savior-king who runs it as a benevolent lord? What hell is this?! Why didn’t I just die when she did, huh? Why did he leave me to suffer?! WHY?!”

“Oh, Dubbs...” The Doctor just wrapped his arms around her, taking the light physical abuse as she continued beating on his back even as she cried into his neck.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair! Why does love fucking work like this?” She pressed her head against him as if she thought she could crack her skull open that way. “I used to hate the person in this body so much I’d burn armies to the ground, but now I just wanna...I just wanna...I...” Now she wasn't sure where the tears were coming from, but come they did.

And he simply sat there, holding her gently but firmly, until her wailing had calmed down enough for her to register what he was going to say. “You never said goodbye, did you?”

“The fuck are you talking about? Do you say goodbye to your enemies, too, like the Sankta you are?”

“I admit, I prefer shooting them with my pistol like any normal person.” He sighed, his breath tickling her ear and somehow grounding her in the moment. “No, Dubbs, I meant you never said goodbye to Theresa, did you?”

That just set her off again.

Another long moment of wailing in the Doctor’s arms passed before W was once again ready to receive. “Do you think she’d want you to remember her as the cause for all this anger? All this pain? All this suffering, both yours and others’?”

“N-no, she...she’d hate that.” She scoffed. “No, she didn’t hate anything. Just like you, she was a saint, a truly pure soul that the world couldn’t bear to compare itself to.”

“You know she snored when she slept?”

...What? “How do you-”

“She snored. After she and the Doctor were ready to go to bed, Theresa would settle herself under the covers, snuggle up to him, wrap her arms around him, and snore directly in his ear.” He chuckled. “I think she actually made him more deaf in his left ear than his right, if my hearing’s anything to go by.”

“You remember that?” Oh, now things were getting worse again. If it turned out there was still part of the old Doctor in there-

But he shook his head. “The Doctor kept a journal, and he wrote that sort of thing down. It’s a lot of reading - dozens of notebooks written in a child’s scribble more than handwriting, incessantly reporting every little thing Theresa, Amiya, Dr. Kal’tsit, and a certain Sarkaz did.”

“No, there’s...” W shook her head. “He didn’t notice me.”

“He must have, because there isn’t another soul here who ‘sang the Queen’s praises day and night,’ who ‘must’ve dreamed of holding her the way [he] did in the heat of passion.’ Honestly, some of it shouldn’t have been written down, I think there’s a strong case for his arrest in there, and that’s before he openly plotted her murder.”

The grip around his waist was iron-tight. “He what.”

“It was no accident,” the Doctor admitted. “The Doctor killed her on purpose.”

“...Why?”

He sighed. “Because she was too pure for this world, and he didn’t want her to live long enough to become a villain. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that way, because at one point he wrote that Theresa asked her to do it, but to make it a surprise so she didn’t give anything away or try to prepare. One of their best-kept secrets, I guess.”

“That’s...” Okay, now she knew she was fucking insane. “That’s what I would do if I were him.”

“I know you would; the difference is, you’re not him, and I’m not Theresa. I’m just as broken and imperfect as anyone else here, so you don’t have to kill me to save me. You’d be too late on that end, anyway.” He smiled sadly at her, pain visible in his eyes, too. She wasn’t the only one.

W sighed and buried her face in his neck again. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, me too.” The Doctor still continued to refuse to let go. “I know it’s going to take time, and even when you’ve had time, you may never feel like yourself again - I know I never will - but Dubbs, so long as I’m still breathing, I want you to promise me you won’t let me let go, okay?”

“Let go? Of what?”

He pulled back enough so she had to look him in the eye. “Of you, silly.”

“Doctor.” It wasn’t him, but...it was, somehow. “They’ll have to blast me away with my own detonator to do that.”

“Then you’d better not let that thing out of your sight.” The smile was genuine, but his eyes told her how serious he was.

The Sarkaz tilted her head just enough as she leaned forward so her lips could do the same for him.

[joganpie]

A bit of Plo Koon

This is for a friend​ who has fallen into The Clone Wars cartoon and entered the hell of stanning a minor PT-era Jedi.  So here’s a little bit of extra Plo Koon content for you.

(And if anyone wants to jump in with canon or fanfic recs for Plo Koon, I thoroughly invite it.)

First of all, I’m sorry to tell you this but a lot of Plo Koon’s most prominent modern content is from The Clone Wars cartoon, in part because Dave Filoni was a huge fan of the character.  

And by a “huge fan” I mean that he actually cosplayed Plo Koon to the premiere of ROTS. (Sidenote: That’s Giancarlo Volpe on the right as Kit Fisto who was also a director on TCW, as well as ATLA and GLTAS.)

Dave also apparently campaigned various “Plo Lives” stories to George Lucas:

TFN: Do you have a plan for why Ahsoka doesn’t appear in Revenge of the Sith?

Henry: Hmmm. Are you asking about the ‘theatrical’ version of Revenge of the Sith or the ‘Special Complete Perfect “Plo Doesn’t Die” Edition’ Revenge of the Sith? Psssst... You guys have no idea how powerful Filoni is getting at the Ranch.

Dave: There is some truth to what Henry is saying. I once pitched George the idea that Plo had a parachute and that he bailed out of his fighter before it crashed. Then George said he would only continue the scene and make Plo’s death more painful, I think his parachute was going to catch fire and he falls on something sharp. I even pitched Plo being added at the end of Return of the Jedi as a Blue Ghost but that didn’t go over either. As for Ahsoka’s future... I have ideas, even outlines that answer your question very specifically.

But yeah, multiple people have joked that he’d try to sneak Plo into an episode any time he could.

Actually, returning to the concept of Plo Koon and Kit Fisto working together, that’s actually an established thing that has happened a couple times, and it does show up in TCW as well. (And yes, they are shipped.)

There’s also a tie-in for the 2003 Genndy Tartakovsky series, Clone Wars Adventures, which has a teamup with these two in issue #6 that is about Kit and Plo dealing with a prison riot.  The characterization of Plo is a bit more violent and angry than in TCW, with Kit having to talk him into giving one of the prisoners a second chance, but he is pretty badass.  (Also, I like the Saesee Tiin story in that volume in particular, to rep another minor Jedi character.)

If you want good, extended TCW Plo and Kit content though, what you really want is the Clone Wars: In Service of the Republic comic, and I can easily say that it’s my #1 recommendation to you as a fan of TCW and Plo Koon since it is a tie-in story to the cartoon.

No, seriously, if you want more TCW!Plo Koon content, you want to read this comic.  There’s a running gag about Kit and the clones trying to guess Plo’s age.  I feel like I don’t need to say anything else about the story.

However, Kit Fisto is not his only Jedi Bromance.

In Jedi Council: Acts of War we get his friendship with a Jedi named Micah Giiett.

This one may be an odd one for you coming from TCW though because it was released in 2000, which was after TPM but before AOTC/ROTS, and some of what is presented in this comic (as well as some of the other comics from the period which I share) doesn’t quite mesh up with what we see in the rest of the prequels regarding the worldbuilding.  I wouldn’t put it as a must-read for the story either, but there are some sweet moments between Plo and Micah and it’s an interesting read to see how they extrapolated the universe out from only what we see in TPM.

Which also leads me to another point, which is that after Micah died, Plo Koon stepped in and helped finish training his padawan-- Bultar Swan.  Who is a huge badass herself and I am Forever Haunted by the fact there seems to be no actual content of the two interacting because this fact seems to have been the product of retcons but PLEASE, I NEED IT.  (There is exactly one fanfic in the universe about these two grieving Micah and it’s less than 500 words but I owe this author my life just for it existing.)

She’s also listed as his padawan in the most reliable of canon sources: Gurihiru’s illustrations for the Star Wars English-Japanese Dictionary

Now here’s where I admit that my reading of the Republic comics is a bit fuzzy because of having limited access to them and reading the series in bits and parts over the years.

With that said, on the subject of masters and padawans, I don’t think current canon/TCW has established any clear lineage for him but in legends continuity Plo was trained by a wookiee named Tyvokka.  Some of that relationship is in the focus of the “Stark Hyperspace War” story in Star Wars (1997) #36-39. (Also, baby Obi-wan and Quinlan is nice too.)

Plo also has a bit of a role in the “Emissaries to Malastare” story in  Star Wars (1997) #13-16, in which they give him Special Font to make him really cool and mysterious.  (Also, a fun Depa & Mace teamup in that story and A’Sharad Hett, the Tusken Jedi.)

In more modern comics, there’s some nice little appearances in the Clone Wars- Battle Tales, especially issue #2 which has him rescue the Wolfpack.

Beyond this, he absolutely shows up in the background of a lot of things because he’s a cool and recognizable alien, as well as part of the Jedi Council, but he doesn’t really have much of a role beyond exposition.

This is focused on the comics, but that’s the part of the EU (outside of TCW) where he’s gotten the most chance to shine.  He hasn’t played any substantial role in any of the PT-era books I’ve read, let alone video games or other media. (Playing as him in Lego Star Wars doesn’t count, although I do appreciate it.)

He does show up in a couple of James Luceno’s books in particular, but not in a particular substantial role. I saw Cloak of Deception mentioned when I was poking around to see if I was wrong about this, but that really does seem to be about it when it comes to his book appearances.

(They also visit his homeworld, Dorin, in the first Fate of the Jedi book: Outcast, and while that’s Post-ROTJ EU and while I can’t recommend the series as a whole, the first book does have some sort of interesting stuff about his species/planet.)

I’m also sadly short on fanfic recs since I don’t regularly read a lot of Star Wars fanfic except for when I’m needing a very specific niche filled and I haven’t really gone looking for a lot of Plo fic.  (Outside of the time I scoured the internet for Bultar & Plo content.)

I’ll end by making sure that you know about the existence of the “Plo’s Bro’s” gunship.

As well as the fact he adds the Wolfpack symbol to his gauntlets later in the war.

BUT ANYWAYS.  WELCOME TO MINOR JEDI FANDOM HELL. 

[iliveiloveiwrite]

What are some good book recommendations? I’ll be honest, I’ve never considered myself very much of a reader because I’ve never really found a genre that I’ve fallen in love with. But your taste in books is rather beautiful and makes me want to give it another chance

omg no-one has ever called my taste in books beautiful before, thank you 🥺 This is going to be an extensive list, I apologise in advance! I’ve provided a brief description of each book/series so you can go through and decide whether it would best suit you. The last thing I want to do is inadvertently trigger anyone.

Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Wicked by Jennifer L. Armentrout - A series of three books following the life of Ivy Morgan. Good fae, evil fae, secret orders and a love interest with dark hair and green eyes. 18+.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas - A series comprising of seven books and one book of novellas. This series follows the assassin Celeana Sardothien as she enters into a competition to become the King’s Champion. This series is violent, and has some distressing scenes as well as scenes of 17+.

Crave by Tracy Wolff - I like to think of this as Twilight if it took place in a boarding school in the middle of Alaska. For those that read Twilight in high school, or have recently read it, this book is a hit of nostalgia you didn't know you needed. It is so entertaining and the love interests are *chefs kiss*.

A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair - A series comprising of three books so far. A modern retelling of the famous Hades and Persephone myth. I adore this series. I seriously cannot tell you how much I love this series. The world building to the character development to my love of Hades by the end of it. It’s such a great read, I even waxed lyrical about it in one of my Fred Weasley fics. 18+ (scenes of mature nature).

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness - Like history? Like vampires, witches and demons? This series is for you. A trilogy following the love shared by Diana Bishop, a historian and witch, and Matthew Clairmont, scientist and vampire. This series is for mature readers - it doesn't hold back on violence as well as sex. However, if you choose to read, I promise you, you will enjoy. It is also a series on Sky with a second series being aired in January (in the UK anyway). 18+

Stalking Jack the Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco - A series of four books following the lives of Audrey-Rose Wadsworth and Thomas Cresswell. Set in Victorian London, the first book follows the Jack the Ripper investigation ending on a cliffhanger not even I saw coming. This does get maturer as you continue the series and there are some gruesome scenes throughout. 16+

From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout - What can I say about this series that I haven’t already cried about? I bought the first book in lockdown and devoured it. I bought the second book about a week after it was published and it has not left my mind since. World building? Astonishing. Character development? Stunning. Handsome love interest? You best believe it. This isn't YA Fantasy; this is NA and it is mature. There are scenes throughout both books that are violent as well as mature. 18+.

Heartless by Marissa Meyer - The origin story of the Queen of Hearts and with no better way to put it... it’s heartbreaking. This book had my heart soaring only for it to be crushed in the best way possible. An incredible read. There are some violent scenes but it’s YA so it’s at a minimum. 15/16+.

The Wicked Deep by Shea Earnshaw - I read this book in one day. I could not put it down, I loved it so much. This books follows three sisters set on a quest for revenge - and how love may be the only thing powerful enough to stop them. 16+.

Historical Fiction 

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Patroclus, an awkward young prince has been exiled to the kingdom of Pthia where he meets Achilles. Follow them through their coming of age tale through the Battle of Troy. So I adore this book, I love this book. I could talk about it all day long. It’s fantastic - go read it. LGBT+, 17+.

Lovely War by Julia Berry - A multi-layered romance set in the perilous days of World War One and Two, where Gods hold the fates - and hearts - of mortals in their hands. Oh... my... word... this book left me speechless. It left me speechless. I couldn’t not finish in the day that it arrived on my doorstep; it’s prose is poetic, it’s romance is dreamy and I just found myself tearing up at the words on the page. 17+

The Disappearances by Emily Bain Murphy - Every seven years something goes missing from the town of Sterling: people’s reflections, the stars in the sky, the ability to dream. Aila realises her mother may have something to do with such a curse. Again, I read this in a day. I couldn’t put it down. It’s set through WW2 and I just think the plot is genius. 15+.

Prose that makes me want to cry

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern - I read this for the first time back in 2014 and have read it so often since that I have had to buy a second copy so I don’t ruin the pages of my first. I LOVE THIS BOOK. It follows the creation of a circus that only opens from night until dawn and how this circus weaves itself into the lives of its workers/owners. An absolute masterpiece. 16+.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab - This book has been one of my most anticipated releases of 2020, and it has not disappointed. When Addie LaRue makes a pact with the devil, she trades her soul for immortality and the curse of no-one remembering who she ever was. Until one day, somebody does. Every part of this book, I savoured, I made myself read it slowly for the fact that I didn't want to miss a thing. Utterly breathtaking. 18+.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson - Anything by Jackson deserves to be on this list. It drags you in and keeps you there. Why do you think they made a Netflix series of her work? 16+.

The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter - This is a collection of short stories that are dark retellings of classic fairytales. It is so utterly fantastic. 18+.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid - Definitely in my top 10 reads of 2020. A former Hollywood starlette tells her life story to a reporter; every seedy detail of her life including that of her seven husbands. I was hooked from the first page. 18+.

18+ (This section can be ignored if this genre of books is not your thing).

A Lesson in Thorns by Sierra Simone - When librarian Poe Markham takes the job at Thornchapel, she has only two aims. One - to stay away from Thornchapel’s owner, Auden Guest. And Two, to find out what happened to her mother twelve years ago. This is a series comprising of three books so far with the fourth published at the end of this week. This series covers a lot of dark themes as well as mature content. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas - I have only involved this series here for the fact that it does have a lot of smut involved. Not as much as other books, but a lot more than your typical YA. However, these books are gold and so far this year, I’ve read the whole series about six times. I love them, go read them. 

A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair - I mentioned this series earlier but it does have a lot of smut.

Pestilence by Laura Thalassa - The first in the Four Horsemen series. This has a lot of violence and a lot of smut. However, the overall plot is so interesting as well as badass female characters that bring so much energy to the plot. 

The Bargainer series by Laura Thalassa - If you’ve read ACOTAR, then this series is the perfect hangover cure. A love interest to swoon for and a plot to only keep you interested.

Authors I buy every book of

Cassandra Clare

Sarah J. Maas

Jennifer L. Armentrout

Scarlett St. Clair

Deborah Harkness

Kerri Maniscalco

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Cabin Fever

Jesse Katsopolis x Reader

Words: 1853

Summary: The Tanner’s are on vacation at a Ski Lodge in the mountains. Everything is fine until a snowstorm traps the family in their cabin. When Jesse’s wife, the reader, starts acting strangely, the rest of the family is determined to find out what the problem is. 

Notes: All the Full House things!

-

You fell back against the bathroom wall, breathing heavily. While the rest of the family spent the morning getting breakfast at the main lodge, you’d spent it with your head in a toilet. You’d told Jesse that you had a headache, but soon it would be harder to hide the morning sickness. You still hadn't told anyone that you were pregnant. 

It’s not that you weren’t happy. You were over the moon to be having a baby. The problem was that you had no idea how your husband would react. Jesse was finally at a good place with his band and a fussing baby didn’t exactly warrant rock and roll. You’d barely even been married for a year and now everything was going to change. How could you tell him?

“Aunt Y/N, we’re back!” DJ greeted, stomping the snow off her boots. You quickly washed off and put on your family-friendly smile as the rest of your nieces came inside. 

“I brought you a muffin.” Stephanie grinned, handing you a muffin that had several chunks missing. She smiled sheepishly. “It looked really good.” 

“Hey babe,” Jesse put an arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek. “How are you feeling?” You convinced him with a smile. 

“Better.” You ignored the churning in your stomach and the family decided to play Go-Fish around the fireplace. Of course, Michelle tended to cheat, hiding cards behind her back, but none of you said anything. The cabin phone rang and Danny went to answer it. 

“So at breakfast, I met this boy- total babe- and he made me a cup of hot chocolate.” DJ gushed. 

“Must be love.” You laughed, taking her queen of spades. Danny came back with a grim look. 

“That was the main cabin,” He began, “due to the snowstorm moving in, all of the roads out of the park are closed. And they advise everyone to stay in their cabins until the storm blows over.” The girls definitely weren’t disturbed by the news. In fact, they were excited to get to stay for another few days. But you just felt even sicker. How many days could you hide when everyone was stuck in that cabin together? 

-

The rest of the morning continued without any spells of illness. You just felt awful about keeping something so important a secret. You had to figure out how to tell him. Jesse hummed to himself as you lay on the bed, reading one of the books you found in the cabin bookshelf. He drummed his fingers on the window sill, watching the snow wildly blow through the air. 

“Man, we’re going to be stuck here for a while.” He sighed, flopping back onto the bed at your feet. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

“Hmm?” You looked up from the page you weren’t really reading anyway. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He repeated, placing a hand on yours. “You feel cold.” He shifted up so he was sitting beside you, wrapping a blanket around the two of you. 

“I’m okay, Jess, I promise.” You laughed nervously, laying your head on his shoulder. You curled your legs up underneath you and wrapped your arms around his middle. His shirt smelled like coffee from when he spilled on himself that morning. You felt your worries melt away, at least for a little while. 

Your relationship with Jesse was definitely not “love at first sight”. In fact, you had been the lead singer in a band competing against Jesse and the Rippers for a gig. You were engaged to the bass player and had blue streaks in your hair. Jesse and the Rippers ended up getting the job and your fiance spray painted your band’s logo on their drums for revenge. He also slept with four different groupies that week. After that, your hair was normal and your band broke up, along with your engagement. Jesse found you in a drunken pity party one night and gave you a ride back to your apartment. The rest is history. 

How different your life could have gone. If you had told your old fiance that you were pregnant while you were still part of the band, he would have done far worse things than leave you. Not that Jesse would ever hurt you… but having that paranoia didn’t go away. Your eyelids started to droop and from the sound of Jesse’s steady breathing, he had fallen asleep. Why were you so scared? He’s your husband for gods’ sake. 

You slowly got up from the bed, careful not to wake him up. You went into the cabin’s unbelievably small kitchen, where Danny was making grilled cheese for Michelle. 

“Hey,” He greeted merrily, “Do you want one?” The smell alone made your very empty stomach growl. He must have been able to tell by your expression and started to butter another piece of bread. “You look a little pale, are you feeling okay?” 

“Do I really look that bad?” You laughed uncomfortably. 

“Jesse said that you weren’t feeling well this morning, and I hope that you’re feeling better. We don’t want everyone getting sick while we’re stuck here.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” You muttered to yourself. He set the golden-brown sandwiches down in front of you and your niece. As soon as the food reached your lips, you felt your stomach turn violently. You stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.” 

You ran to the nearest bathroom and fell to your knees, throwing up the few bites you had been able to eat. 

“Michelle, stay here.” Danny said, knocking on the bathroom door. “Y/N?” When you were finished, you weakly stood and opened the door. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

“Danny…” You sighed. “I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh.” His eyes went wide and he nodded with understanding. 

“Aunt Y/N is going to have a baby?” Michelle exclaimed from behind her father’s legs. 

“Shhhh!” You whispered. “Michelle, I haven’t told your Uncle Jesse yet.” 

“I can keep a secret.” She grinned. You blew out a long breath. 

“I’m in trouble.” 

-

Two more days past and the snowstorm continued. No one had left the cabin and you were running out of firewood. The adults drew straws to see who would go to the main lodge to pick some up. Following in your bad luck, you drew the shortest straw. 

“We’ll go together,” Jesse stated with a shrug. “It doesn’t look too bad this morning.” 

“I honestly don’t mind going,” Danny said quickly, giving you a concerned look. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You gave him a warning look back. So far, you had been able to keep Michelle quiet about the pregnancy. You were going to tell him. You just had to figure out the right moment. 

The two of you grabbed your coats and boots and bundled up before heading out into the snow. The wind blew harder than you thought, making it difficult to see even a few feet in front of you. You locked hands with your husband and trudged through the drifts. The main lodge was only about a five-minute walk away from the cabin, but the further you walked, the more it felt like an hour. 

“I think we’re almost there!” Jesse shouted over the roaring wind. Your hand fell from his and lifted up to your head. 

“Not now.” You whined, falling back into a snowbank. The past few days were bad, but this felt different.  It was as if the nausea was on steroids. 

“Babe?” Jesse suddenly noticed his empty hand and started to panic. “Y/N, where are you?” He couldn’t see anything through the blizzard. 

“I’m over here.” You groaned. 

“Sweetheart, where are you?” He searched until he saw the bright red of your scarf. “What is it? What’s wrong.” 

“I just need to get inside.” He helped you stand up again and rushed into the lodge, calling over one of the workers to grab you a blanket. He sat you down on one of the big leather couches in front of the fire, rubbing your hands in between his to warm them up. 

“What the hell happened out there?” He asked, moving his hand to move the hair out of your face. His blue eyes were frantic, quickly draping the blanket over your shoulders. 

“I’m okay, Jess,” You assured him, but another wave of nausea made it feel like your insides wanted to become your outsides. 

“Cut the crap.” Any sternness in his voice only came from how much you scared him. “You’ve been feeling sick ever since we got here. Is it just a fluke, or is this something we should be worried about?” 

“I mean… it’s definitely not a fluke.” The sickness started to subside and you smiled. “Jesse, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Now he looked even more worried. “It’s okay.”

“Well you’re starting to freak me out here,” He exclaimed, moving to sit next to you. 

“Jesse, I’m-” 

Suddenly, everyone else in the family burst through the doors, Joey and Danny clearly out of breath from chasing the girls. 

“Michelle told us and we just couldn’t wait for you to come back!” Stephanie squealed. 

“Besides, I thought I saw you fall and we had to make sure you were okay.” DJ added. “I’m really happy for you too.” 

“I really tried to stop them, Y/N.” Danny grimaced. “And don’t either of you ever run out into a snow storm like that again.” DJ shrugged. 

“It’s starting to die down.” 

“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on!” Jesse shouted over the commotion. Everyone froze. 

“You don’t know?” Stephanie’s jaw dropped. 

“I haven’t had the chance to tell him.” You said through a gritted smile. 

“Tell me what?” Jesse exclaimed again. You took his hand and tried to force down the butterflies. 

“Jesse, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. With your music going so well, I wasn’t sure how you would react, but you’re going to find out sooner or later.” You laughed nervously. “Jess… I’m pregnant.” 

The room fell into complete silence. You could almost hear the snow falling. 

“Y-you’re… you’re… we’re going to have a-” Jesse fell back against the couch. Your heart was pounding. He was upset. 

“I know that this gets in the way of the band and that it’s sooner than we thought-” He kissed you before you could finish and the family cheered. 

“Gets in the way?” He shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “How could you think that?”

“So you’re happy?” You sighed with relief. 

“Happy?” He laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m over the moon!” He jumped off the couch and lifted you up, spinning around and making you laugh. 

“Congratulations guys.” Joey beamed. 

With grins on all faces, everyone headed back to the cabin where you waited out the rest of the snowstorm. It raged on for another night, but with a wonderful husband to keep you warm and the best nieces in the world to make you laugh, you didn’t have to worry about getting cabin fever.

[quickspinner]

Sorry Not Sorry

The first one didn’t seem to work quite right, so I’m reposting this separately...sorry if you saw it twice!

From the @mlweeklyprompts

A: You kissed me. B: You kissed me back. B: And I’m not here to apologize.

The tension was thick and felt foreign on the open air of the Liberty’s upper deck, a place where she’d always felt safe and calm and...free.

Loved.

Luka was leaning against the rail, staring not at her, but at the deck between his feet. 

“You kissed me,” he said quietly. 

“I did,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. This was just wrong. Usually he was the one with the steady gaze and she was the one who couldn’t look at him. This was all just...so wrong. “You kissed me back,” she pointed out, and Luka groaned, putting his hands over his face. “And...I’m not here to apologize. Not for kissing you. For a thousand other things, but. Not that. I’m not sorry, Luka. I’m sorry about the timing, I’m sorry it upset you so much, and most of all I’m sorry that I waited so long. I’m sorry for taking you for granted, and dragging you back into it when you thought you’d moved on, when that—when moving on was something you apparently wanted so badly, but—” 

“I haven’t moved on,” Luka mumbled from behind his hands.

“S-sorry?” Marinette said, blinking. She couldn’t have heard that right. 

Luka took his hands from his face and leaned them back on the rail with a white-knuckled grip. “I haven’t moved on. It’s true that I wanted to, and I’ve been trying, but I haven’t. I’m still as in love with you as I ever was. If I’d moved on I would have just asked you to stop and told you that door was closed. But i didn’t do that.” 

He hadn’t done that, it was true. He’d kissed her back so hard they’d fallen back against the wall. Heedless of his stage makeup or the fact that he had to perform in minutes, he’d kissed her like it would kill him to stop, until he finally pulled back with an expression so tortured that she felt a physical pain in her chest.

Then he’d gone on stage and delivered the most moving, emotional, heart-wrenching performance she’d ever heard. Everyone had loved it and the merch they’d brought with them sold out. 

Marinette still wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. He could have kissed her back for a million reasons in that moment. Luka was Luka and so she didn’t think it was just...revenge, or entitlement, or any of the darker options that occurred to her as she lay in bed simultaneously horrified at herself and incredibly proud of him and how far he’d come as a man and an artist. 

Luka took a slow breath, bringing her back to the moment, and the slump in his shoulders, the way he curled in on himself a little bit, made her heart beat for all the wrong reasons. Why was she always the one hurting him? Why couldn’t she be for him the way he was for her? Why was it she couldn’t seem to give him anything but pain?

“Stop it,” he said, closing his eyes though he still hadn’t looked at her. “I can hear you spiraling from here.”

“Sorry,” Marinette whispered again, and her breath hitched, and no, no, this was all wrong, she was supposed to come here and be mature and sensible like he was, and say all the right things and make him feel the way he’d always made her feel, like his love was a gift and not a burden, that he offered it only when it would be a comfort and a help to her. 

She was not supposed to come here and cry and make him put aside his own feelings yet again to comfort her in a situation that was entirely of her own making. Marinette couldn’t fathom how Luka had managed all these years. Had he really not felt any of this? Was his love really that pure, or was he just better at hiding the pain than she was?

She half expected to feel Luka’s arms coming around her even now, but she didn’t. He wouldn’t, not at a time like this. His love had always included forgiveness for her mistakes, but he’d never once stopped her from taking responsibility for them.  She struggled for a moment more, and at least that much he was willing to give her, the time to get herself together to do the right thing. 

Marinette wiped her eyes quickly with her thumb and straightened her back and shoulders, lifting her chin. “I’m sorry for my bad timing. I know how much your stage career means to you and I should have been more sensitive, even though you handled it...amazingly.” She gave him a quick smile but he still wasn’t looking at her. “I was wrong to let my emotions get the better of me in that moment. I should have waited and talked to you at a better time instead of just jumping you in the heat of the moment.” 

Luka raised his head a little, still looking off at the lights over the river rather than at her, and she could see him swallow and sigh, and if she’d been making that face it would have come with tears. 

Marinette took a deep breath, and continued, determined to get through what she had to say. “I didn’t—I want you to know, this isn’t because you’ve been pulling away. I understand why you did and that you needed it. I’m not going to say I didn’t realize how important you were to me because I did. You’ve always, always been important. I’ve always loved you on a level that—it wasn’t romantic, it didn’t start out that way, but as a—as a—” She didn’t know how to finish that. She didn’t want to hurt him the way she’d been hurt, and it wasn’t right to call him a brother either. “Confidant,” she said, finally. “Someone who protected me and was there for me...I don’t know how to say it—” 

Luka shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I’ve always known that.” 

Marinette nodded slowly. Of course he did.

“I don’t really know when it started to be something else,” she said quietly. “I was...I was busy, you were busy, there was no, no time, no good moment, and then you were dating and I thought, I didn’t...I didn’t want to get in the way if that was what you wanted, and then...and then you weren’t dating and then you were and…” She stopped abruptly, suddenly aware Luka was cringing. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know the details of his relationships or why they had ended. She hadn’t felt like she had the right to ask, and the one time she had even hinted in that direction to Juleka, the look Juleka gave her said that Juleka thought so too. 

However, Marinette wasn’t stupid and she knew Luka. She knew that Luka was a compassionate person who believed in honesty and communication, and he might not have named names but none of the people he dated were stupid, either. She’d found herself drawing back just to ease the strain on Luka. Apparently, it was much easier to accept that he was trying to move past feelings for someone else than it was to accept that he still worked closely with that person. Marinette had quietly offered to step down as his personal stylist and Luka had refused so simply and matter-of-factly that she hadn’t had the guts to push harder. 

“I thought, I should be flattered,” he said softly, shifting his weight. “That they were all so sure you were in love with me too and it was only a matter of time before you confessed and I dumped them. I thought I knew you well enough that I would have seen it.” He finally looked at her then, sadly. “Now I’m wondering when I stopped being able to read you. When you stopped being open and sincere with me.” He was silent a moment. “Why, Marinette?”

Marinette shrugged, fingers digging into her arms. “I didn’t feel like it was right to let you see how I was feeling until I was sure. I’ve hurt you for years by not loving you, and I just...I didn’t want to give you that kind of hope when I still didn’t know what I wanted. I mean, I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t know, if...if I could have it. If it would even be right to ask for it, after all this time.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “It all sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”

“Maybe you should have tried that sooner,” Luka pointed out, the corner of his mouth quirking up, though there didn’t seem to be much humor in the tiny smile. 

Marinette dropped her gaze to her feet, and it was almost comforting, a return to the usual dynamic. Except that it wasn’t comforting, because he was right, and he was disappointed in her.  

“I’m sorry for that too.” Marinette sighed. “When have I ever done what I should have done when I should have done it outside of b—an emergency?”

“That’s a fine,” Luka reminded her with a quiet chuckle. “No negative self-talk.” Marinette smiled tightly in spite of herself at the memory of the jar she’d decorated so long ago in purple, pink, and blue, that had sat proudly on the Liberty’s galley counter for years now. Luka sighed and she came back to the moment. “You were on a streak, too,” he pointed out, and then he chuckled again. “Must be going around. Juleka broke her streak this week too.”  

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said automatically, and then shook her head. “Maybe I should just...I should just go.” 

“Marinette,” Luka said, and she lifted her eyes to his in one last act of courage. “Say what you came to say,” he told her quietly, and she swallowed hard. Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the last. 

“I’m in love with you,” she said simply, determination alone keeping her feet rooted to the deck when the panicky part of her brain insisted that she flee screaming. “I want to be with you. But I’ll respect whatever decision you make just like you’ve always supported me. And, if moving on is what you want...then I’m okay being in the background for a while, or whatever you need. I’ll do my best to get over it so we can be friends again.” 

Luka sighed, finally shifting his weight off the rail and back onto his feet. He flexed his hands as he let go and Marinette winced slightly at the thought of how sore they must be from clinging there so tightly. She held her ground, trembling slightly, as he advanced on her and looked in her face, taking a deep breath and sighing it out through his nose in that very Luka way. 

Marinette held her breath as Luka leaned down and rested his forehead against hers, his hands coming up to curl lightly around her arms, his thumbs rubbing against the goosebumps the chill breeze had raised. 

“You make me so stupid,” he sighed, a quaver in his usually steady voice. “Why am I such an idiot when it comes to you?” 

“That’s a fine,” Marinette whispered, and her breath hitched when he slid his hands down to pry loose her grip on her own arms. “There goes your streak too,” she managed to add, as he tugged her hands away and down and tangled just the tips of his fingers with hers.

Luka grunted. “It doesn’t count if I’m quoting Jules. I guess she was right after all.” 

“Right about what?” Marinette whispered, almost afraid to move. 

“I’m just going to be an idiot forever,” he said, and closed the last bit of distance between their lips. 

[findapennyloseapenny]

James Ironwood is going to turn up again, and he’s going to be working for Salem. Hear me out.

So this is a possibility I toyed with in one of my first posts on this blog, and as I’ve been thinking about it more and more and rewatching the Atlas arc, it’s something that I’m becoming more and more convinced of. Let’s start with the basics. Ironwood was in Atlas when it fell, and that was, shall we say catastrophic. Enormous crash, followed by flooding. Definitely shouldn’t be survivors, right?

Except that that isn’t really how this show, or most shows, work. People survive a lot of intense injury in RWBY. Cinder got fucking flash-frozen and dropped several stories after her Aura broke. RWBY goes out of its way to signpost when someone is dead. It wants that emotional beat to hit hard. It doesn’t want ambiguity. Take Pyrrha, disintegrated before our eyes. Take Penny, first dismembered, then with that heartbreaking framing of her blood falling of Crocea Mors. Take Clover, gorily impaled. Even with Adam, who fell offscreen before his death, was obviously and bloodily stabbed all the way through his chest (twice) and hit a rock very hard on his way down. The most ambiguous they’ve ever gotten was Watts, but they made a point to show that Cinder had taken extra action to make sure he burned alive before Atlas finished falling. The show took time out of a very packed episode to show us his shadow, lit by flames as he screamed.

Notice that they did not take time to give us a similar shot for Ironwood. It’s the contrast between Ironwood and Watts that makes me most certain that he’s alive. They could’ve spared a few seconds to give us something similar for Ironwood, and they didn’t. So I’ll be astonished if he doesn’t make it out alive.

Watts actually contributes another piece of evidence to this theory. Between his death, Emerald’s defection, Hazel’s death and defection, and Cinder betraying Neo, Salem lost a lot of known, well-developed characters from her inner circle in a very short time. The only people she has going into Volume 9 are Mercury, Tyrian, and Cinder, and they aren’t exactly a well-rounded team. Tyrian and Mercury are bruisers, from a plot-perspective. They take orders and carry them out. They don’t make plans, they don’t have resource networks, they aren’t particularly good infiltrators or ambassadors. Cinder’s only slightly better - she makes plans, sure, but she’s impulsive, self-serving, and bad at seeing the bigger picture. She only brings a slightly wider range of resources to the table. This is not a team that provides a varied enough rogue’s gallery for very long, especially if Mercury or Cinder defect as well (which is extremely possible). This only stays her inner circle if the show is about to wind down or Salem is about to get blown out of the water for a bigger bad guy.

So, is the show about to wind down? Realistically, if they want to wrap up their plot threads and themes in a tidy, satisfying fashion, which I’m confident they do, the minimum number of volumes I think they could do that in is four. Volume 9 deals with Wonderland and sets the stage for RWBY in Vacuo, Volume 10 deals with Vacuo, Volume 11 sees a return to Beacon (and possibly a late game switch big bad switch from Salem to someone else, probably the gods), and Volume 12 sees the defeat of the big bad and the resolution of the show. That’s assuming an absolutely breakneck pace from a show that has consistently been content to take its time - relatively speaking at least, given how short each episode is. They spent a whole Volume dealing with the trauma of the Fall of Beacon, advancing the characters and barely touching the overall plot. I don’t think they’re going to speed run this.

All this to say, at minimum, we’re three-quarters of the way through the show, and I think two-thirds to halfway is more realistic. Salem can’t take point in any plot that involves societal conflicts, and I don’t think they can hang three more volumes of those on Mercury, Tyrian, and Cinder. Salem needs to expand her inner circle. Now, most likely, that will include at least one new character from Vacuo. Maybe people who’ve read the CFVY books already have a likely candidate in mind, I don’t know. But one person isn’t going to be enough to fill all the roles now left empty on Salem’s team, especially one person that we don’t already know, who has to be built up for us and fleshed out and sold to us as someone competent and scary and worth giving a damn about.

So why not sidestep some of those problems and dust off the perfectly good dictator they’ve still got lying around?

Let’s go beyond the fact that Ironwood is alive and without an obvious role in the plot while Salem has a job opening. What does Ironwood get out of teaming up with Salem? What does Salem get out of taking him on? What do we, the audience, get out of seeing this on our screens?

Let’s start with the first one. Ironwood has had a very taxing forty-eight hours. He has seen his precious Atlas destroyed and reduced to rubble. He has seen every one he ever counted on betray him (and with good reason, but I doubt he sees it that way). He has gone from being one of, if not the most powerful mortal man in all of Remnant, to having absolutely nothing. Who does he blame for this? Salem? Maybe, but if he puts the sole blame on her, that means he has to keep fighting her, something he has already decided is impossible. He made a desperate, terrible, appalling plan to avoid that outcome, and it failed utterly. He doesn’t believe she can be beaten. He will certainly blame her some, but there is a much more convenient target for the bulk of it - one that is easy to plaster it on, one that thwarted him directly, and one which he believes he can have revenge on.

He is going to fixate on Team RWBY and their allies. If they’d just listened to him, if they’d just fallen in line and done what he said, then Atlas would be safe and the relics would be well out of Salem’s reach. Their opposition led directly to his plan’s failure. He doesn’t even need to bend the truth for that, only ignore the parts that he has already been content to ignore - that his plan was fundamentally flawed from the start, both in its means and its ends, and that if he had instead listened to RWBY, much of this tragedy could have been avoided. But Ironwood isn’t going to blame himself. It is a very, very hard thing for someone as proud and self-assured as Ironwood to do, to look at himself honestly and acknowledge that he fucked up, really badly, and that the consequences of that fuck up will haunt him until he dies. It is a very hard thing for such a proud man to humble himself and try to make whatever amends are within his means, to apologize to those he wronged and strive to help them, even knowing that they may hate him forever no matter what he does, and be justified in doing so.

He will take the easier choice, the same kind of easier choice he has been taking the whole show, and shift his guilt onto someone else. He will blame RWBY. He was more than willing to sacrifice uncounted multitudes of people under his care to protect Atlas, and maybe the world too, for awhile. Now Atlas is gone, and as far as he is concerned, the world is doomed. What does it matter if he helps Salem hasten that along a bit, as long as he can avenge his city?

Salem, for her part, will find an exceptionally canny tactician, a deeply charismatic leader, and a man of nearly unshakeable determination, all wrapped up in a nice, emotionally unstable, easily manipulated package. Maybe he doesn’t have the tech-savvy that Watts did, but he has everything else, and so much more. She could find all sorts of uses for him.

And we, the audience, will get to see it all unfold. We will get to see the fall of James Ironwood from a principled, well-meaning, staunch defender of Remnant, a bit over confident in himself, a bit flawed, a bit narrow in his focus, but unquestionably heroic, to a dictatorial, desperate tyrant, willing to sacrifice anything and anyone on the altar of his own ego, a man who hits rock bottom through his own arrogance and cruelty and, when offered a shovel, starts digging even deeper. You thought the Tin Man lost his heart this volume? You haven’t seen anything yet. By the end of this show, there will be no one more tragically, brutally, painfully hollow then James Ironwood.

I wonder if, near the end, he’ll think about Lionheart. I wonder if he’ll still have enough of the man he used to be left to shed a single, bitter tear at the irony.

[abraxos-is-toothless]

The Beauty That Is She

Started this a few weeks back but never finished so I decided I would:) It will be in about 4/5 parts? Maybe a few more if I feel as though it needs it.

This will be about Fenrys and an Original character, but the character’s name came from the books:)

Full Masterlist.

—————

Fenrys was feeling the most relaxed today than he had in weeks, they had all been run ragged with meeting after meeting, everyone wanting to see his Queen about requests for this and requests for that. He loved his Queen he truly did, she’d saved his life. She gave him a home and a family. But damn it if he didn’t want to strangle her sometimes for making him sit through the boring shit every day. Fenrys was glad they finally had a short break from it all since today it was the twins’ twentieth year of life, and he had only been given one order from Rowan this morning. Search all the rutting nooks and crannies of the castle to find his mischievous son. Connall –Aelin had asked him the day their son was born if he’d allow her to name him after his brother, he’d cried (not that he would ever admit that) and said he’d be honoured- was only seventeen and looked exactly like his father but had the same fiery and devious personality as his mother. They could often be seen plotting together in the corner and then be a new plank played on his elder sisters a few days later. The twins –Nehemia and Evalin- always got revenge after going to their father for new ideas.

Connall was meant to be testing his magic with Rowan while the girls trained with their Uncle Aedion, however he would never go the first time you asked and eventually you would have to drag him out to the courtyard, but luckily for Fenrys he knew all of the boys hiding spots. He found him sitting in front of the window of the corridor leading to the Great Hall with his nose buried in a book; Dorian brought him a new one every time he had to visit for boring royal business. “Con? You know it’s your turn to train with your father, the sooner you do it the sooner you can go back to your books.” Once those pine green eyes met his gaze and the boy let out a very audible sigh he chuckled lightly- he was too much like his mother for his own good.

“I’ll never be able to live up to the power he holds so what does it matter if I train or not?”

They had this argument every time and Fenrys’ answer was always the same, “It doesn’t matter if you hold the same power that Rowan does, your parents just want you to learn so you have multiple things to fall back on if you ever get put into harm's way.” Con finally put his book down and agreed to go train as long as he would come and help him too. He said yes, as he always had to each of the kids since the day they were born.

Once they had both stepped out into the courtyard you could hear Aedion’s deep laughter and a war cry from one of the girls from not being able to get the upper hand on him yet. As they got closer Fenrys noticed that his Queen was sitting up in one of the trees, smirking as she watched her girls trying to figure out where they were going wrong. Rowan was stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest and a calculating look on his face, and Lysandra was reprimanding her husband whilst rubbing a hand across her swollen belly asking him to ease up on them for a few minutes and as for the girls, they were throwing insults back and forth blaming each other for their screw up. Nehemia was her mother through and through. Looked like her, sassed like her and had even inherited the power of fire. Not a lot of course, but she and Aelin trained with it as much as they could, the Queen knowing from experience what happens when you don’t. Evalin was different from any of them. She looked like Rowan, most likely because of the hair, but she had Aelin’s eyes. Her powers were extraordinary too, being able to bring forth her father's ice and wind, yet she too could master fire.

Rowan had been almost out of his wits when they had realised what she could do, having witnessed Aelin’s power almost destroy her several times. It had taken Lorcan and himself what had felt like days to reassure him that she would be fine, that all three of them would teach her how to stay in control and Aelin would teach her how to disperse little increments, as not to be overloaded by it.

“Rowan, I’ve found your devil spawn, he’s all yours.” With a wink at the boy in question he shoved him by the shoulder towards the magic lecture that awaited him and walked over to lean against the tree that Aelin was currently sat in. Looking up at her he asked “How’re they doing today?” Dragging her eyes from the girls to focus on him she said, “Mia just wants to throw herself head first into the chaos but Lin keeps trying to tell her about the strategies that you taught her.” He grinned then and turned back towards the sparring blondes muttering ‘That’s my girl.’ Eva -the name only he was allowed to call her; she said it was because people always chose ‘Lin’ or ‘Eve’ but he was the first to use ‘Eva’- had always been the sensible one, using that beautiful brain of hers constantly to break down each sparring scenario they were given and trying to find the weak spots of each opponent she was given. Mia on the other hand had inherited her mother’s stubbornness and seemed to favour the teachings of Lorcan whenever he came for training; kill first and ask questions later. Gods, someone needed to start keeping a closer eye on the two of them on Lorcan’s day for lessons. Maybe Elide could chaperone for a change. Lady Lochan despised watching her husband train, so she always says, yet the two would disappear the minute he stopped. But she was the only one that was able to keep him in check, so he would suffer with the scent of the two of them, if only to stop Mia from becoming a terrifying mix of Death and Fire.

After a few hours had passed, Fenrys was watching Connall throw shard after shard of ice for his father to dodge when Eva caught his eye from across the yard and he watched her pull a manoeuvre he’d taught her a few days ago on a clueless Aedion, making him laugh. She turned towards him then, but he froze suddenly as turquoise eyes locked with his. There was a sudden tug on his soul that left him breathless and made his senses feel heightened. She had felt it too it seemed because her sword arm had fallen limp at her side, however the distraction cost her, when Aedion’s blade managed to slice across Eva’s shoulder. He watched her cry out and drop to her knees yet he couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing in his ears but from the vibrations in his chest he knew he was growling. All eyes were flicking between the wounded female on the floor and him; Rowan had stopped just short of his daughter when he heard Fenrys. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Eva was hurt and bleeding and that there was a voice in the back of his head that would not stop shouting at him, over and over.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Of all the people fate had to choose for him, it gave him someone that was very much off limits. Rowan fucking Whitehorn’s daughter. Oh he was so very, very dead. Everything had come back to him now and he could still hear himself growling when he said “Whitehorn. Do. Not. Move.” The threat was stupid of course because that was her god’s damned father, but she was hurt, she was bleeding and Rowan was incredibly close to her and nearly cutting her from his line of sight.

He knew that Rowan knew then, when he caught him scenting the air and turned to look at him but simply stated, “Do not assume to think you have some claim on her because of what has just been revealed, she hasn’t even accepted you yet. She has no idea what this means.”

Aelin had come down from the tree now and was steadily walking towards them, eyes only for her daughter. Eva looked to her mother when she was close enough to kneel at her side and, voice laced with confusion, asking, “What’s happening? What haven’t I accepted? I don’t understand.” Every instinct was screaming at him to go to her, to soothe her and tell her everything was going to be alright, however, as he dared to lift his foot to do just that, Rowan was blocking his path in an instant.

“Please. Please just let me go to her. You know how this feels, just. Please.” There was a hand placed on his shoulder then, as a comfort or a restraint he wasn’t sure.

“Not until she understands.”

Connall was now on the ground by his sister helping her to heal faster with his magic. Mia was looking at them all with confusion and curiosity. Aedion and Lys seemed to be torn between leaving to give them privacy and staying to provide some sort of back up just in case. Not they needed to; he’d never, ever, put her in danger.

“Lin,” Aelin was saying, “I need you to listen to me carefully okay?” A nod for her mother but her eyes were focused on him. “Do you remember the story I told you about when Manon and I fought?”

“You said that when you were trying to get away again, Manon’s friend Asterin shot an arrow that was aimed for you but daddy jumped in front of it.” Eva’s words were a little slow and shaky, probably trying to recall as much of the story as she could. He tried taking another step, growling again when Rowan tightened the grip on his shoulder. He watched as her eyes went wide, and there was a slight twitch of her hand, as if she too wanted to reach out for him.

“And then what did I tell you about that moment?”

Eva’s brows furrowed and he wanted to press his thumb into the spot, smoothing it away. She was beautiful, truly, no matter what she was doing and he wanted to tell her, wanted to breathe the words against her lips, neck, her stomach, and then lower. The last few years, he hadn’t stopped noticing her beauty, and it was difficult at first. She had always been Rowan’s daughter but now, now he didn’t care. Now he just wanted, wanted, wanted.

“You said that you had screamed because in that moment you had felt...you had...he was...” Her eyes widened and her head whipped towards her mother, her breathing ragged and the scent of her filling the air. She was a mix of pine and jasmine, a mix of her parents, and it was the most intoxicating scent. He breathed in deeply as his eyes fluttered for a moment, letting it calm him.

Suddenly, Eva was standing, legs a little wobbly as she walked over to him and tapping Rowan’s arm, silently asking him to move. His brother hesitated but relented and stepped back, taking Aelin’s hand in his own as they watched their daughter. She was right in front of him now, head tilted back to actually look at him and that voice in his mind returned.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His breath caught in his throat when she lifted one of her hands and stroked from his temple to his jaw, then cupping his cheek gently in her palm. Fenrys let out and unsteady breath and his heart soared when she whispered into the space between them;

“You’re my mate.”

—————

I’ll probably make a little personality thing on each of the kids at some point, just to go into more depth. If you want to be in the tags for this then just let me know!!:))

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up  @mad-madeline-ace​ @df3ndyr @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish @nightcourtcinnamonroll @acourtofmarauders @rhyswhitethorn @booknerdproblems

[gallavichgeek]

Author Interview

I was tagged by @yeah-all-of-it​! Thank you so much, that was very kind of you.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I currently have 18, though I'm working on three more as I answer these questions.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

337,932

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Saving Grace (546)

South Side Forever (437)

Sex Tape (408)

The Ian to Mickey’s Cal (381)

The Truth (346)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, every single one within a day or two. I appreciate comments more than anything, it really gives me a sense of what my readers are feeling and whether I am getting the right emotions across and whether they are finding my story interesting. 

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I would have to say Saving Grace really leaves readers on the edge until the very last few paragraphs. 

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I ONLY write happy endings, except for Two Kisses, but you can blame the movie Fatherhood for that, so I don’t think it counts. (If any of you have seen that movie on Netflix then you know exactly how painful that one shot is)

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

The closest crossover I’ve written was The Ian to Mickey’s Cal. My friend Co-wrote it with me where we explored Ian being the model for Jedi Fallen Order and Mickey having a crush on the video game character only to then one day meet Ian in the video game store he works in and he is blown away by the resemblance. 

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

A few times, and every time I know it’s been a troll because either their comment shows that they didn’t actually read the whole chapter/story and are just poking at sections that they skimmed so they can start an argument over it. Or when I kindly reply to them, stating I understand how they feel however that’s not what the story was intending, they suddenly blow everything way out of proportion  and begin pointing things that aren’t even relevant to the story or the original argument. That’s when I stop and let it go, knowing they are just looking for an argument. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Of course. I like to try and dabble in everything but I don’t write my ship sleeping with other people (three ways. Cheating. Break ups and sleeping with randoms to get revenge. etc etc)  I’m personally not interested in exploring kinks like tentacles or femboy either, but have nothing against those that are courageous enough to give it a try. 

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I’ve had three translated into Russian

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, The Ian to Mickey’s Cal with Camnoelgallavich

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Gallavich. I’ve had many others over the years but none have hit me this hard, stayed with me this long or inspired me the way they do. 

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t have any WIP’s because the way my process works is I write the whole story before I begin to post so that I can update frequently and only have to focus on editing each chapter. I have been burned many times with WIPS and I don’t want to do that to my readers. I want them to know if they start my story they are guaranteed an end and not a huge gap between updates.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Capturing the characters emotions and dialogue. I always make sure to write them as they would speak in canon with the exception of may be getting a little more emotional sometimes. 

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m not the best at editing. I have to edit my chapters twice before posting and sometimes get help from my beta with lengthy paragraphs where I've jumbled my words with what I’m trying to convey across to the readers. I also have an issue with time jumping. It’s as though I need to write out everything that happened to lead up to each point rather than just skipping forward a day or a week. 

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I only speak English and I don’t want to put it in a fic in case google translate it wrong. The one time I used Russian in ‘The Truth’ I checked google six times before posting to make sure it was right and I translated from English to Russian and Russian to English just to be sure. 

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Shameless. I’ve thought of writing for others but ideas never captivated me enough to get me writing. 

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Maybe sterek. It’s a little harder being that it’s a supernatural world but it would be interesting to explore. 

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

It’s a tie. 

‘Saving Grace’ which is my first huge fic that really explored my characters in a world that was so different to canon. I did a lot of research to get the facts correct while diving into the world of mental health. 

The second fic would be ‘Hope’. Once again, I did research, but it’s more due to it being such a wholesome story that warms my heart because it gave the characters the happy ending they never got in canon, fixing all the issues the show forgot to address, so it’s a fic I keep very close to my heart. It’s now part of a series that I don’t think I could ever stop writing for. 

I don’t know a lot of writers on Tumblr since I mostly use Twitter and Instagram but I'll try @camnoel @filorux​ and @doodlevich​.