#to be clear: we get along. he's really nice and considerate. but. to me. he needs so much attention. whereas i am the exact opposite.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I need this answered actually I have no idea what people consider normal.

Brought to you in part by: my friendship with this guy who is the last option on this list and my difficulty in knowing if this is, in fact, normal and not my avoidant ass needing several days (if not weeks) of not seeing anyone I know in person.

[kurooh]

Thanks sweetie🥺🥺

Can't believe my boys don't have a birthday💀 ALSO, now I can't stop thinking about riding Ino in the backseat and hearing him whimpering🫣

🐺

⊹ ₊˚. TEST DRIVE. car shopping with ino goes in another direction when you’re looking around the backseat.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, fluff, cowgirl, car sex, ino’s whimpers, cockwarming, creampie

xoxo, juno. happy birthday again <33 🎉

“she runs well, don’t you think?” ino’s fingers squeeze your thigh as he takes the car down the road, cruising along smoothly. despite a few bumps in the asphalt, the car cushions them with a bounce so that neither of you feel it.

“this is a pretty nice car, babe,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat and savoring the view of the sunset through the tree leaves.

since your last shared car broke down, ino decided to take you shopping for a new one. he prefers the sports cars, and wanted to take one out for a test drive, but you’d told him absolutely not. knowing him, it would be easy to get carried away and then end up having to pay thousands after an accidental crash.

“do you like the color? we can always get it wrapped with your favorite,” he turns to you with a wink, beanie sagging on the back of his head while stray hairs hang around his forehead.

“always so thoughtful,” you laugh, “i think the fact that this car runs well is more important than the color. oh, wait, we didn’t look around at the trunk to see how much space it has.”

“shit, you’re right,” ino agrees, turning on his directional just before pulling off to the side of the road, tires sliding on a patch of grass. he unlocks his door but doesn’t unlock yours, making you roll your eyes.

“give me the keys—”

“ahem. you may step out now, m’lady.” before you know it, ino’s raced over to the passenger side to considerately open your door for you.

“come here,” you hold your arms out, jumping onto him happily, and he spins in a circle with a laugh. “ugh, you’re such a cutie.”

he giggles, his beanie slipping off the back of his head and onto the grass. you’re quick to pick it up and put it on your head, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle.

“you’re almost rocking it better than me.”

“that would be a true statement if you didn’t use the word ‘almost’.”

ino hits a button on the key fob, effectively popping open the trunk for you to both look into. it’s spacious, with plenty of room for groceries or whatever else you may be driving around with.

“backseat,” you instruct, closing the trunk and opening the back doors. ino climbs in beside you, thoroughly impressed.

“well, well, well,” he strokes his chin with a finger, eyes closing in faux contemplation. “this is quite a nice backseat, wouldn’t you agree? it’s very roomy, in my opinion.”

“mmm, yeah,” you play along, laying down and resting your head on his thigh. “i can even lay down fully without being cramped. you should try it too, taku.”

“really now?” and you nod, sitting up and scooting over to where he’s sitting. ino lays back, knees bent just a little because you’re taking up some of the space.

“this is quite a nice backseat,” you both fight back your laughter, playing along with the dumb little scene. it’s clear you’re both thinking the same thing when the smiles fall from your faces the second you’re straddling his waist, squeezing him between your thighs.

“wow, hot stuff. look so good wearing my beanie.” his tone is playful as his hands squeeze your hips, making you roll your eyes as you lean forward.

“shut up and give me a kiss, taku.”

ino’s lips meet yours in an impatient, hungry kiss. the force behind it is practically bruising as he sneaks a few light bites to your lower lip to get you to open up. your lips part around a gasp as you start to bounce on his lap, feeling his hard cock through all the layers of clothes.

“s-shit,” he whines, back arching and lips pulling away from yours after a particularly hard drag of your hips against his. “baby, i want these off.” he tugs at your shorts, quickly shimmying out of his jeans and sweeping up the hem of his shirt to expose his belly.

“what do you want, hm?” you ask, shorts and panties off. your ass is up as you kiss at his belly, fingers sweeping beneath his waistband.

“uh, i-i want to be inside you,” ino swallows, fingernails digging into his palms as you slip off his boxers, exposing his hard cock to the air.

you giggle, blowing out some air on it, and he bites back a whimper, hips twisting. “doors are locked, right?” you ask, distracting him. he pulls out the key fob and fumbles with it, locking the doors and almost popping the trunk in his haste.

“calm down, taku,” and your voice is honeyed and sweet as you plant a hand on his stomach, slowly lowering yourself down onto his cock. the head nudges between your folds and grows sticky with a mix of precum and your own slick.

just a little grinding and kissing, and you’re both this desperate. it’s impressive, really, the way you’re already trembling and he’s biting marks into his lower lip as he wills himself not to cum yet. the beanie on your head combined with the way you’re panting as you rub your wet cunt along the length of his cock is too much.

“d-don’t,” ino huffs out, and you look up at him. “don’t start up with that damn teasing, please don’t. baby, i need you right here, right now.”

“patience,” you answer, swallowing at the sight of cars racing by from the corner of your eye.

“come on, i just want you to—” he cuts himself off with an embarrassed noise, throwing an arm over his eyes. “you know i don’t say this often, b-but, i want you to fuck me.”

“taku, you know i will,” you let out a breathy gasp as you sink down on his cock, moving so slowly that he’s forced to buck upwards. in one movement, his cock is fully sheathed inside you, wrapped by your twitching walls. his throat bobs as you start to move, eyes widening as he watches your pussy eagerly swallow his whole cock.

oh god, is it possible to get lightheaded from sex?

only thoughts of pleasure race through your empty head as you fuck yourself onto his cock, breath hitching each time his tip hits your cervix. he’s so deep, so big — the perfect size.

ino’s enchanted, tears building in his eyes as he watches the delicious bounce of your tits and savors every single moan that falls from your lips. your pussy’s so wet and warm, comforting in a way that nothing else could ever be — fuck, is he really about to cum this quickly?

you notice as his breathing grows frantic, heat rushing through your body at the prospect of him finishing this quickly; excitement chases it, the idea of overstimulating him electrifying. you’re squeezing around him like a vice, pussy eager to drink in everything he’s got, and it’s hard to hold on.

“babe, baby,” he huffs out, his voice tight. “kiss me, i want a kiss.”

ino’s hands help you lean forward, fingers digging into your sides as his lips mesh against yours. once again, a perfect fit — he’s so in love, so absolutely infatuated with you in every single way someone could be. the loose beanie slips forward, off your head, onto his face.

you giggle, pulling away to fix it; his lips drag along your cheek as you adjust it on his own head, hips pausing momentarily. he’s so cute like this — a flush high on his cheeks, eyes glassy, lips pulled into a pout as he waits for you to hurry up with his beanie. if you’re still busy with that thing in the next three seconds, ino swears he’ll throw it out the damn window.

“you okay?” you pant, hands falling away from his head and cupping his face.

“i was worried you’d take forever with that thing,” he confesses with a laugh, hips thrusting up. “still got the energy to ride me?”

“i’m just getting started,” you roll your eyes, picking up a quick pace and bouncing on his cock. it happens fast — within a minute, he’s as close as he was before, weakly rutting his hips upwards while you shove them down with your own.

ino’s fingers wander to your clit and he rubs sloppy circles on the sensitive nub, whining deliciously at your body’s immediate response.

“‘s good, taku, keep going,” he thinks his name sounds best when it’s coming from your mouth.

despite how overwhelmed he is, ino’s fingers don’t falter, and with his free hand he gestures for you to lean on top of him like earlier. he tucks his face into your neck, tears pouring down his cheeks and wetting your skin.

white hot pleasure races through your body, bolting between your legs like lightning. “t-takuma, baby,” you huff out, gasping into his skin as you squeeze around him frantically, “‘m gonna cum— want you to with me, please—”

a needy moan tears from your lips and his skin absorbs it, your hips stuttering against his with a few last smacks of skin against skin. before you know it, you’re cumming hard, barely able to hear his words over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

ino’s whimpering, shaking beneath you and sobbing out, “wanna fill you up, c-can i?”

every one of your senses is hazy, and you manage to nod against him, pressing your lips to his ear. “y-yes, ‘course you can.”

with that, his cock spurts white inside you, hot and thick and deep — for a moment, you wonder how long it’ll take to drip out of you. you’ll be able to keep it inside till you get to the dealership, won’t you?

“you okay?” you ask, body shifting and tearing a choked whine from his throat. “takuma?”

he exhales sharply, taking a second to answer you as he recovers, chest heaving beneath you. “yeah, i’m okay. hey, let’s turn over?” you oblige, ass pressed against him and cock still buried deep.

“we’re supposed to get this car back to the dealership, we can’t just sit on the side of the road—”

“yes we can,” ino hushes you, trailing kisses along your jaw before moving to your neck. “let’s just wait for a while and cuddle. also, i’m kinda cold and you’re warm.”

“how could you possibly be cold after full on sex?”

“i have no idea, but it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“five minutes,” you say matter of factly, although you curl up against him comfortably. “then we have to go.”

“yeah, yeah,” ino huffs.

later, you’re charged a ton of money for bringing back the car a few hours late. ino blames it on you for falling asleep against him and you blame it on him for enticing you to fall asleep by cuddling.

[frogsmulder]

34 & 36 msr

The Christmas Ruse

In order to avoid being set up with one of her mum's friends' sons, Scully uses Mulder's help to create a fake relationship. But Mulder doesn't know; about 3.4k words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic

Read on ao3

Deep in the basement of the J Edgar Hoover building, December 23rd, Scully is about to leave the office. Winter coat pulled off the rack, one arm through and then the other, her heels clip towards the door when she stops in her tracks. Hesitating for a brief moment, she considers if she is really about to do this, but the alternative seems far more agonising. Lip caught between her teeth, she turns around to face Mulder, still at his desk. He looks up from the work he is still buried in despite the late hour: everyone else in the building has gone home, save for the janitor and herself. His hair is ruffled, his tie loose and a frown is perfectly sculpted across his brow. She could do worse as friends go. 

“Mulder…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you free tomorrow? About eight?”

He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head in mock consideration. “That's gonna be a little tough for me: I've got a file on a green, furry cryptid here that the higher-ups want caught before he steals all the joy out of Christmas.”

She can't help but roll her eyes. “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Depends: why d’you ask?” He leans forward again, hands clasped together on the desk in front of him, attentive, his whole gaze trained on her. 

“I–” she licks her lip– “I'll pick you up at seven.”

“Ooh a surprise!” he chuckles. “I like surprises. But if it's not a trip to Whoville, I'll be disappointed.”

She laughs, “happy holidays, Mulder,” as she walks out the door.

...

Her mind is blank, clear of any form of thought as the elevator dings, opening to the fourth floor of Hegal Place, Alexandria. She steps forward, automatic pilot steering her to the end of the corridor. If she starts thinking now, everything will cascade into a torrent of worry, and there will be no coming back. Checking her watch, she sees she is earlier than she had anticipated. She raises her knuckles to the wood. And then her hand drops without a sound. What if she is too early? What if she's interrupting him? Turning on her heel she walks back to wait in the car. But that is ridiculous. She should just knock and wait inside if he isn't ready. Yet upon reaching his door, she feels that magnetic repulsion again. Again she turns away. 

This time it isn't her own doubt that stops her but the sound of the door opening behind her. Mulder's head pops out. 

“Hey, Scully!” He grins. “You gonna pace around outside for the next twenty minutes or are you gonna let me invite you in?”

She opens her mouth to say something when he widens the door and motions for her to get moving. His casual nature bemuses her. He saunters in ahead, bare-chested, hair slightly damp, just a pair of jeans, drawing her eyes down to how well they hang on his hips and fit his ass. 

“You didn't give me a dress code: is this alright?” He picks up a black t-shirt and a navy sweater, spinning around to hold them against his chest like a professional designer. 

She smirks, “yeah, that'll do nicely.”

He grins again as he wriggles into the garments. A moment of confusion passes his features before he looks around and bends over to look under the coffee table. Retrieving a bottle of aftershave, he sprays some on, and then looks satisfied with his appearance. Scully certainly is. A waft of the scent captivates her as he puts the bottle back on the table. 

“Good to go?”

He snaps her from her thoughtless mind “Oh, uh, yeah.”

The drive is pleasant enough. Crisp frosted scenery flies by while seasonal songs float from the car stereo. In the corner of her eye, she notices Mulder quietly humming and tapping along to the music, having no right to be as endearing as he is. She smiles, and focuses on the road ahead. 

“So, I am allowed to ask where we are going now, or is it still a surprise?”

“We are going for a Scully Christmas eve dinner. It's, uh, a sort of tradition we have each year: close family get together to share time before the big day tomorrow–before all the aunts come over and fuss over how Christmas should be done properly in the traditional Irish Catholic way.” She laughs a little, remembering how Aunt Marie had to be kicked out of the kitchen by her mother. “And my mom invited you.”

Mulder whistles. “Wow, that's a high honour indeed. I feel bad now coming empty handed.”

“Don't worry, there's a bottle of red on the backseat from both of us.”

“Both of us? Will your mother have something to be suspicious about?” He grins and waggles his eyebrows. 

“It's nothing like that,” she laughs. “She's just been asking after you a lot lately. I think she's secretly trying to adopt you.”

“Well, I couldn't think of a better person to be adopted by than Mrs Scully.”

Scully bites her lip, considering whether to tell him the truth, but decides it isn't worth it. Her mom has already apologised to Jack: he won't be there, and that's the main thing. She grips the steering wheel a little tighter. 

They pull up to the house and she sees Bill’s family wagon is already in the driveway and she curses quietly under her breath, she had hoped to settle in before he showed up. 

She gets out of the car and picks up the bottle of wine. Mulder is waiting for her on the other side, arm curled in invitation. She links her own arm through and shakes her head at how well he's playing the role he doesn't even know he's got. At the top of the path, she nervously opens the door, preparing herself for the evening ahead. The irony is, she would rather be having dinner with just Mulder, but then again she's never managed to be the traditional sort. 

“Hi Mom, Bill, we're here!”

“We're in the kitchen sweetie!” her mother calls back. 

Mulder groans and bends down to whisper harshly in her ear, “You never said Bill Jr was here.”

“I said close family.”

“I think I left my diplomacy mask in the trunk, let me go get it.”

She chuckles and tugs him along to the kitchen. 

She first presents her mother with the wine and receives a big hug in return before Maggie sees who she has brought with her. 

“Oh Fox! How wonderful to see you.” She cups his face and reaches up to kiss his cheek, before standing back, holding by the arms and admiring him. “Although I can't say I'm surprised; Dana has been talking about you a lot lately.”

“Oh really?” Mulder turns teasingly to Scully with his eyebrows raised. 

Maggie laughs, “Yes, I was starting to think she was making the whole thing–”

“Mom!” Scully interrupts, blushing bright red. 

“Sorry, Dana,” She chuckles and releases Mulder back to her. “Would you like some prosecco, the two of you?”

Scully eyes Bill standing a few steps behind their mother, watching Mulder warily. 

“That sounds wonderful, Mrs Scully.”

“Oh, Maggie, please; you're part of the family, Fox.”

“That's very kind of you, Maggie.”

She walks up to him and opens her arms as a peace offering. “Hey Bill, long time no see. Your boat didn't get stuck in traffic this time then?”

He finally relaxes and accepts her hug

“How's my little sister doing?”

“I'm good,” she sighs. “Where are Tara and the kids?”

“She's just giving them a bath before they go to bed.” He steps back and gives her a smile. “Don't worry, they'll be down in time to say good night to their favourite aunt.” 

She smiles to hide the pain of the hidden dig; the absence of Melissa felt the most this time of year. 

“Mom was telling me you brought a date.” He glances back over to Mulder. “Seriously? Him?”

She sighs, knowing this was an eventuality. “I don't want to do this now, Bill, it's Christmas. Can we just leave it alone?”

He steps forward, insistent. “But after all he's done to you?”

“Bill, I won't say it again. He's been there for me and supported me despite what you think.” She looks over to Mulder too, and how easily he talks to her mom. Her mother is right, he is a part of this family even if it's not in the way she thinks. “I don't want any trouble this evening, Bill, please.”

He nods tersely, the matter still clearly bothering him. She decides to leave it and joins Mulder, wrapping herself around his arm and taking the flute of bubbling alcohol gratefully. Despite trying to mask it, Mulder senses her tension and smoothly twines his fingers with hers, grounding her the way no-one else has ever has. 

...

The rest of the evening flows relatively effortlessly as family gatherings go. Matthew comes bounding down the stairs followed shortly by Tara and a baby already sleepy-eyed resting on her shoulder. Matthew runs up to his grandma and jumps onto her lap in the armchair. 

“Are you all clean and ready for bed now?” Maggie coos. 

He shakes his head. “I not tired. Not need bed.” And then he points a finger across the room. “Funny man?”

From the corner of her eye, Scully can see Mulder chuckle next to her as he slowly gets up to introduce himself. 

“Hi, Dana!” Tara offers a wave with one hand, gently bouncing the baby “Sorry I didn't get to say hi earlier I had my hands full.”

“Sure looks that way,” Scully laughs. She gets up to stroke the fuzzy hair of her newest nephew and give him a kiss on his crown. “He's grown so much already,” She marvels. “Oh, this is Mulder by the way–” she gestures over to where Mulder is ruffling Matthews hair– “Mulder, the only other woman besides mom that's been able to keep my brother in check.”

“I see we are going to get along,” Mulder chuckles. 

“Oh he's not that bad really.” Tara looks fondly over at her husband trying to gently extract their son from Maggie’s arms, much to the grumpy protests of Matthew. “He's really a teddy bear underneath it all.”

“Just don't let my crewmen hear about it.”

“No, Daddy, no! Me not tired!”

Bill gruffs and hoists Matthew up, barely holding on to him as arms and legs flail. 

“Can I?” Mulder asks cautiously and Bill gives him a contemptuous look as Scully raises an incredulous eyebrow. 

“You know what day it is today, Matthew?”

The boy rolls his eyes. “Kissmas eve.”

Mulder nods seriously. “And what happens on Christmas eve?”

“Santa comes.”

“But you know Santa only comes if you are asleep. He is very shy.” He leans on conspiratorially to whisper in the boys ear. “He can't bring your presents if you're awake.”

“But... But… I good boy,” he pouts. 

Mulder smiles. “You have to be good all year round, including Christmas eve. And good boys go to bed when their mommy asks them to.”

Matthew considers this for a moment. “You good boy?”

“Yes,” Mulder laughs. “But the question is, are you?”

Matthew nods and clings to his father. “Bed time then Santa?”

“That's right,” Bill chimes in. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” 

He gets up the stairs with little fuss. Over his shoulder a tired child yawns. “Bye bye, aunty Dana!” he says. “Bye bye, funny man!”

On his way past, Tara mouths thank you to Mulder, who waves it off as if it was no big thing. Scully looks at him, mouth hanging open, both her shock and curiosity showing through. She had watched the whole thing unfold in front of her as if it was the most natural thing in the world to him. How? She wonders, while a quieter voice deeper inside whispers dangerous day-dreams. She fights to keep it tamped down, knowing its impossibility; its only real ability to hurt her in the future. 

Maggie pats Mulder's arm as she moves through to the kitchen, pausing to add, “You'll make a great father one day, Fox.”

A strange sting of jealousy sings with that chorus at her mother's words. Scully shakes it off. “Mulder,” she smiles with awe. “How did you know that would work?”

He shrugs. “I guess those hostage negotiation classes paid off.”

She laughs but doesn't let the matter slide. “No, really?”

“I used to encourage my sister to bed the same way. For some reason she listened to me.” He gets a wistful look in his eye. “But there was that one time we conspired to stay up to catch Santa together. Well, our father wasn't very pleased.”

...

Later, sat around the dinner table, Scully edges closer to Mulder, conscious to keep the appearance of the happy couple up. Part of her is anxious that Mulder will become suspicious of her behaviour, question her and force her to reveal her ruse. The other part wars with herself about how easy and natural it is to act like she loves him. She fidgets with the hem of her blouse under the table, straightening herself out as her mother passes out portions of homemade cottage pie. The smell of it takes her back to her childhood when she and her siblings used to fight over who got the leftovers. She remembers Missy taking putty on her and sneaking her some to not make the others jealous. 

“So,” Tara chirps brightly, bringing Scully out of her reverie. “How do you and Mulder know each other?”

She opens her mouth but no words come out, the inevitable question catching her off guard. “Um… We work together… he's my– we're– he's my partner.” She shields her gaze from Bill’s stern stare and catches Mulder's amused smirk. Her cheeks start to burn and she is sure everyone can see her blush. 

“Ahhh.” Tara gives her a knowing smile. “And how long has that been going on for?”

“It's, uh–

“Relatively new,” Mulder fills in for her. Surprised, Scully whips her head to stare at him. 

“Well, I'm glad for you Dana, you look happier than I've seen you in a while. And who knows maybe you'll even get to start a family of your own: he seems great with kids.”

Her mother jumps in before she can reply, sensing her unease, knowing her desires for motherhood will only ever remain as that. “Come now, there's no need for an interrogation,” she jokes light heartedly. 

Scully finally looks to Mulder with a smile and says quietly, “Yeah, he is.”

The blush on his cheeks warms her heart and she licks her lips. Maybe it could be this easy to love him. 

Her mother raises “A toast to this Christmas, to family.”

“And to Mulder and Dana,” Tara adds. 

“Bill,” Maggie smiles. “Will you do the honours?”

Bill nods and clasps his hands together leading everyone into grace with a bowed head and closed eyes. “Bless this food and the hands that prepared it–”

Under the table Scully feels Mulder shift, his hand reaching out to her, fingers walking along her lap to find her hand. She turns it over, allowing him to lace his fingers through hers. She breaks her prayer to look at him, confused but not unpleasantly surprised. With everyone keeping vigil, he smiles softly, privately, as if they were the only two people to exist in this world. When Bill utters the words “Amen,” Mulder squeezes her hand before quickly letting go, moving his gaze elsewhere as conversation resumes.

...

After dinner, Scully, stays sitting at the table for a while, watching the swirling bubble in her flute rise to the top and burst. Tara helps her mother clear away and Mulder quietly excuses himself for some fresh air. She bites her lip, sensing his discomfort with the intimate family setting. She briefly wonders what Christmas eve at the Mulder household is like, before remembering last year he had invited to go ghostbusting. Maybe he would prefer to be there than here, suffocated in an environment he barely recognises. She was too selfish to consider how out of place he would feel, but she can’t deny that having him by her side the last few hours has been an immense source of strength for her. She is not sure she could give up his company even if she wanted to.

Bill’s chair makes a scraping sound against the hardwood floor as he gets up. She glances from her bubbling glance to see him follow Mulder’s direction to the porch. Discreetly, she follows him. Through the front door she can hear his muffled voice stern and gruff: “.... clear Dana likes you… respect her choice but… hurt her again…”

She’s heard enough to know exactly what Bill is saying and she curses him under her breath. Jaw clenched, she turns the handle of the door. “Bill–” she starts.

Bill throws his hands up defensively. “I was just leaving, Dana.” 

She watches as he innocently side steps her and returns to the dining room. Scully turns around again, fingers to her brow, massaging out the frown carved out there, not knowing where to begin apologising.

“How much of that did you hear?” Mulder winces, scratching the back of his neck.

She sighs dejectedly. “Only the important parts.”

He huffs half a laugh. “Only that much, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Mulder. Bill can be…”

“Overprotective?” he laughs again mirthlessly. “Yeah, well, as the older brother I get it: he just cares a lot about you. I only wish that didn’t mean hating me in the process.”

She places a comforting hand on his bicep, pleading silently that he accept her forgiveness for the sin he doesn't know she has committed. She searches his eyes for an answer but before she can find one, Tara walks up to the doorway, catching them.

“Aw don’t you two look cute under the mistletoe.”

“What?” Scully spins around defensively.

Mulder looks up and chuckles. Amidst the heat of the confrontation, she had forgotten the sprig of mistletoe tied to the porch awning. She slowly lifts her head, hoping it’s not still there, but the berries shine white against the green, inviting them to keep up tradition.

“Do you trust me, Scully?”

She looks at him, wide-eyed and hesitant. “Yes, but–”

Before she can finish the thought, Mulder is leaning in, warm hand pressed against her cheek, the other holding her steady at her hip. His lips meet hers as soft and as light as a feather touch, barely a whisper of the possibilities she now finds herself fantasising. All too soon, he draws back, leaving her bereft of his heat, his touch. His thumb still draws back and forth across her skin as she languidly opens her eyes again, seeing his smile in a new light. All the world goes quiet and numb save for the man standing in front of her, still holding on, still smiling. Conscious thought leaves her brain; her worries and doubts disseminated like dust on the wind. Old fortresses crumble and fall and she reaches up to brush her finger against his lips, testing this new reality she finds herself in. Lead by pure instinct she follows her finger and kisses against hers li him again, craving the feel of his lips brushing against hers like oxygen after seven years of holding her breath. Hesitantly, she deepens the kiss, exploring the taste of his lips, his tongue. When he reciprocates she sighs contentedly, floating towards heaven.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against hers. “Now are you gonna tell me why your whole family thinks we are dating?” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. “Or do I have to ask them?”

“I–” she stutters over her words half in relief, half realising the ridiculousness of it all. She hides her face buried deep in his chest, laughing through, “I didn’t want mum to set me up with one of her friends' sons again.” 

“And I was the perfect lie?” he teases her with a shit-eating grin.

“As far as boyfriends go, I could do a lot worse.”

“So, it’s official–” he tilts her head back to look at him and brushes her hair from her face– “this is our first date.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” she laughs.

“Hey, Scully–” he gives her another chaste kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

She smiles against his lips. “Merry Christmas.”

[wayfayrr]

Toucan play at this game

Part two of Birds without feather flock together!!! this is a direct continuation of the previous fic and it was also commissioned by @lost4pandora <3 this time there's more fluff and just overall softness

[masterlist]

“Pressing in what way? Because I know Wild wouldn’t have been so upset with simple ‘questioning’.”

“I- you remember what you did for me during the war? The um-”

“So you’ve been pushing him about getting prosthetic wings.”

Makes sense why wars has been looking guilty now, if it wasn’t for the fact that they knew it was possible from me helping to repair his back in the war, then they wouldn’t be able to push it so hard. It’s not exactly his fault as long as he wasn’t one of the few that’ve been pressuring him. 

“Well, the others have. I backed off after the first time it was talked about because I respect Wild’s decision. Wars however…”

“It - I, I wanted to drop it but the others, well they wouldn’t exactly let me. I-”

“He w’s their shin’n example.”

“Wild’s right, as much as I wanted to let the topic just drop…”

“Wars struggles to tell the others no sometimes.” Not like I needed to be told that, after how much time I’ve spent around him it’s pretty clear he has a hard time saying no to anyone really. Every time I asked him the smallest favour he always did it without question, often times above what I asked for too. His will to please is often his fatal flaw. He still could have stood up more though seeing how much it affected Wild, they were doing it out of concern, no need to flip out at them yet. 

“I am aware. He’s shown that off time and time again.”

“Huh? but it’s only to people he’- don’t shove me like that!?”

“I know. I know trust me. It’s something I’m working on.” What was Sky going to say if wars hadn’t interrupted him there? Does it really matter though, what this is supposed to be is learning why this pressing has been so bad for Wild and how to get the rest to drop it. Although the time away from the group seems to be doing him good, his familiar weight pressing into my side as he’s making himself comfortable leaning on me. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been upsetting him though, does it?”

“Well no it-”

“Yeah it doesn’t, does it.”

They’re both fumbling a little bit now, Wars a considerable amount more than Sky, who’s admittedly keeping a fair amount of this new colder unbothered demeanour of his about him. It’s both oddly comforting and at the same time chilling, without Wild here to help keep the warm in my bones I might have frozen to the touch. I can’t say I wouldn’t want to see more of it. 

“So I take it that one of you is going to tell Time and the others to start laying off of him before I take matters into my own hands. Wars preferably? Seeing as you’re the one who’s pretty much the cause of this.”

“Wars should certainly be the one to do it.” 

The growl in Sky’s voice was completely new, even to someone who’s been travelling with him for longer; Isn’t a growl usually a sign of a bird being aggressive? Is he getting aggressive for our sake… why does my face feel so warm all of a sudden; and are Wild’s tail feathers poofing up? Huh… Maybe there’s something else to question if we get any privacy from wars later, although… It’s probably better for Wild and I to discuss things first, so that neither of us get hurt. 

“I- well, I- yes. I do need to take some responsibility for my part in this after all, don’t I?”

“It’d be the first step to earning both Wild and I’s trust in you back, if you want to do that anyway.”

“Huh - What of course I want to- why wouldn’t I?”

“Why wouldn’t you? Because you’ve shown that you put the pressure of the chain as more valuable than their feelings you fool.”

Wars looked worse than if he were slapped across the face at that; it’s nice not having to be the one to call him out on it either, because Hylia above I know I would have been worse than Sky was. I care for Wars, of course I do, but the fact that he simply went along with this when he saw how much it was affecting my sweet little bird? I would have made him regret it. Which he knows.He’s got the decency to look ashamed though. Standing with his wings drawn close to him, looking smaller than Sky for once even; although with how much he’s puffed out it’s not that hard to look smaller than him. 

“Guys.”

With the speed at which both of them turned their heads, I’m surprised that neither of them got whiplash or worse. The silence was more deafening than it should have been too; the whole forest around us seemingly dropping dead.

“I think it’s for the best that Wars goes back now so that we can avoid most of the fallout.”

“They’ll just question you later instead.”

“Yes, but we won’t be there for the Immediate backlash.”

“You’ll only be putting it off though.”

“You should go back now and tell them we’ll stay here for the night.”

It’s good that Wild feels comfortable enough to be speaking again now, and well I can’t say that having him be so assertive isn’t nice either. He’s still just as cuddly though so nothing was lost, except for maybe a little bit more of the captain's self-esteem as his wings droop even lower.

“Sky and I can go back to the main camp then. Throw ourselves to the wolves for you.”

You can hear the nerves in his voice now; letting out a quiet warble with frantic glances in sky’s direction. Why is he so worried about going back alone? 

“‘d prefer if Sky stayed here.”

“Oh?”

That was the biggest possible stroke to Sky’s ego that he could have given the man, made immediately clear by how much he puffed himself up and started getting flustered. Even going so far as to let out the softest little trill, competing with Wild for the cutest bird. Wait what am I thinking - why am I even - I don’t - I don’t see sky in that way. Do I?

“Mhm, I wanna be with the people I trust r’ght now.”

“And I’m one of those people!?”

“... you don’t trust me?”

“No… not at the minute.”

That seemed to be the nail in the coffin of the captain’s ego, leaving it shattered on the floor now; now he’s just looking between me and Sky for something is it pity he wants? Whereas Sky walked over with the biggest grin on his face, like the cat that got the cream. Since when did he get so damn pretty? 

“Can - Will I be able to earn it back?”

“In time, if you prove you really want to. But not now.” 

“That - yeah I can live with that. I’ll prove it to you that I will- that I can.”

And with one final teary-eyed glance between us, he turned and left. Leaving the three of us alone. I can’t say that I’m surprised that Wild trusts Sky but to want him here after the argument, well that is surprising. I can talk to him about it later though, maybe we could get him to collect some firewood while we collect our thoughts. 

“So what are we doing now? I guess I’m staying up here for the night. Unless you two would prefer some privacy in a bit?” 

“I - I’d like you to stay, please. Just, could you possibly give us a little bit of time, a few minutes even?”

“Yeah, some time to process everything would be lovely.”

“That works well, I’ll just go fly around for a bit and don’t worry I won’t listen in on you.”

Now it’s just Wild and I sitting alone on the plateau like we were back at the start of our journey again. 

Waiting till Sky was high enough to the point where we wouldn’t have to be worried about hearing anything as he circled the area lazily before going to perch somewhere. Leaving us to discuss everything. Well after sitting down and getting as comfortable as we both could, which meant sitting with Wild snuggled up against me.

“So them pressing you is why you’ve been so stressed recently? Why didn’t you come to talk to me about it my lil fluffball?”

“Didn’t want you overreacting.”

That- that’s fair, I can see why he thought I could have done that. 

“But I wouldn’t have done anything that you wouldn’t have wanted me too.”

“Mhm, I know ‘s just worried about it.”

“Okay that’s understandable love, but please don’t hesitate to tell me if it ever happens again. I don’t want you dealing with it alone.”

“I won’t, I promise. Besides I’ve got sky, wolfie and you now.”

“Oh? Sky’s made it into that list fast hasn’t he?”

“He’s a good friend to me, and I know there’s something going on between the two of you too.”

What? What does he mean by that? 

“I’m not blind my beloved, you look at him the same way you looked at me before we were together.”

I could feel my face lighting up now. Between everything he’s saying and the fact that he’s pressing kiss after kiss on my neck. My sly little bird trying to stop me from really being able to focus. Just because he doesn’t want to talk about his own issues. If he thinks I’ll drop it over him trying this he’s dead wrong.

“No, no there isn’t anything there link. And anyway we’re supposed to be talking about you here.”

“I’m not bothered, you know. I think sharing you with him would be nice.”

“Link I’m trying to talk about you being upset, not about whatever you’re imagining right now. Please stop trying to change the topic.”

“He looks at you the same way too, wouldn’t you at least want to try?”

[birdiewriteslit]

“driving me crazy”

eddie roundtree x fem!reader

you and eddie have never gotten along. is it because you hate each other, or is it because you’re both to proud to admit something?

enemies to lovers😏😏 also idk how long this is bc tumblr doesn’t have a word count smh but it is longer than my other stuff

warning: making out at the end (spoiler lol), suggestive

part 2

EDDIE: Y/n, man. That woman is no joke. We hated each other, at least for a while.

Y/N: He was always such an ass to me. Eddie, I mean. I really hated him. (pause) Until I didn’t.

The burning hatred Eddie felt for you started the day you auditioned for the band. Chuck had just left for school, and Eddie wanted to move from rhythm guitar to bass.

Like always, Billy shut down his request and decided to let people audition for the position. In his words, he wanted someone to “earn it.”

Eddie was already irritated from seeing Billy act like the previous performances were better than what he could do, so you can imagine how he felt when one actually was.

The last audition of the day. You strode up the driveway, big sunglasses over your eyes, sporting jeans and a tight tank top, but definitely not a smile.

Eddie just knew. There was no way he was getting that spot. Your playing didn’t even shock him. Of course, it was fantastic. Just great.

After that, it was all cold stares and angry glares. He wanted to make it very clear that he didn’t like you. He made a considerable effort to stay out of your way. He wouldn’t speak to you, look at you, or even think about you. Well, he tried very hard not to.

One night, a few weeks after your admission, you fell into step with him as he walked home after a rehearsal that ran long. He was moderately surprised by this and figured you would go away if he just ignored you.

You didn’t. You pulled out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. “Have a light?” you asked.

He furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what you were doing. After a moment, he nodded, pulled out his lighter, and lit your cigarette.

“Thanks,” you said. “So, is there any reason why you hate being around me?”

He was so taken aback that he stopped walking. “Sorry?”

You looked at him from over your sunglasses. It made him sort of angry that you were wearing them at nine p.m. when it was pitch black.

“You gonna answer the question?”

“Yes, there are many reasons.” Bullshit. There was only one and, honestly, it wasn’t a very solid one.

You said nothing and walked back up to him, removing the cigarette from your mouth and putting it out on his denim jacket, burning the material.

Eddie was more bewildered than mad when you pushed the glasses to the top of your head and smiled at him like you’d just done him a very nice favor. He never noticed your eye color before then, or how it looked in the moonlight.

“By the way, that jacket really reminds me of Billy.”

Okay, now he knew he was mad. He struggled to come up with a comeback and just moved his mouth in a stupid way that made you laugh when you left him standing there.

EDDIE: She knew exactly what she was doing. She’s always been good at that, making me mad on purpose.

Y/N: It was really funny. He doesn’t think so, but I was laughing about that for days.

The two of you continued throwing insults at each other for the months leading up to LA. Eddie’s favorite thing to do was comment on every mistake you made, much to everyone’s dismay.

He was just jealous of your abilities and, deep down, he admired them. You always knew just what to say back to him, adding unnecessary fuel to the fire.

More than once Billy had to yell at you to stop fighting. You both would resort to sending each other hateful looks and crude hand gestures for the rest of practice.

Driving to California was the real hell. Being cooped up in that van with Eddie for that long made you restless.

If it weren’t for Camila holding you back, there would’ve been several times where you launched yourself at him.

It was so nice to have another girl around. Camila was a good mediator for the two of you. You missed that when you went on tour.

Karen also knew how to break up a fight, but sometimes she would let you hash it out for the fun of it. Not like you minded, she probably knew how much fun you had while messing with Eddie.

Soon enough, things went downhill. Camila had the baby, which was good. Julia was such a sweet baby. Billy went to rehab, which was also good, for him and his family, but bad for the band.

The tour was canceled. A lot of money was lost. It was not a very fun time.

You sympathized with Billy. He had been going through a lot, and you understood how hard it was for somebody to recover from that level of drug abuse. Addiction was a gene that seemed to run in your family, with your mother being absent for most of your life and your father having to pick up the pieces.

Billy and Camila were the only people who knew about it. You didn’t think the others needed to know when none of them could relate to your situation.

Eddie didn’t understand. He went on and on about how bad of a guy Billy was. It made you furious the way he implied that Camila should leave him.

The rest of your fights were petty compared to the one you had on the day Billy got out of rehab. Eddie started complaining about Billy’s nerve or something along those lines. You flipped out. You told him he had no idea what he was talking about and stormed out of the room.

That shut him up. He stared blankly at the door you just walked out of and thanked God that it had only been the two of you in the room before.

He was relieved that no one else heard what he said because realized he was being childish. Even though he hated Billy he should still be proud of what he overcame.

He rushed out of the room to find you locked in the bathroom. He knocked once, twice, three times before a sharp, “What?” came from the other side of the door.

“Y/n, come out and let me talk to you.”

He heard your muffled scoff. “You’ve said enough.”

“I want to apologize.”

He couldn’t see it, but your eyebrows rose involuntarily. You undid the lock and opened the door. Your arms were folded over your chest as you nodded at him. “Keep going.”

“I’m sorry I said all that crap about Billy. It’s been a rough time for him. For all of us,” he said, sounding genuine.

This was shocking to you. He had never apologized to you for anything he said, even if it happened to be cruel and borderline disrespectful. He had this vulnerable look on his face that made you feel like you could tell him things.

“I’m not just upset about Billy,” you admitted. “This whole thing just reminds me of my life growing up. You don’t know this about me, but my mom was not the best at, well, being a mom. Unlike Billy, family wasn’t enough to pull her out.”

You weren’t sure what he was going to say. Then, he said nothing and pulled you close to his chest. His arms were around your shoulders, and you hesitated to hug him back.

He smelled of pine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from inhaling his scent. You stayed like that for a few minutes, until you heard the front door open and sprang apart.

Warren and Graham announced their arrival, and Eddie cleared his throat before joining them in the kitchen. Now it was you who stood alone in bewilderment.

EDDIE: This girl that hated me was trusting me with something, and I didn’t even know why. That was the first time I saw her for the woman she was, and not for the competition she used to be. As it turns out, I didn’t really hate that woman.

After that debacle, things were kind of weird between you and Eddie. He would still act like a dick, but in a different way.

Instead of, “Wow, could you be any worse at this?” he would say, “Wow, could you look any hotter right now?” He used the same douchebag tone for each, but his comments became flirtatious as time went on.

You usually had a witty retort to fire back at him, but there were some times that his words left you flustered and unable to think properly.

Karen noticed this first, giving you a questioning look from the other side of the studio. You waved her off and rolled your eyes at the thought of Eddie seriously flirting with you.

Warren and Graham caught on next, teasing him about it whenever they got the chance. He denied all allegations of being into you.

You refused to acknowledge Camila’s allegations either. The dynamic you shared with him now was different, but you kind of liked it. You would never admit it though, wanting to keep up the illusion that you still hated his guts.

Eddie walked into the kitchen and grabbed a muffin from the table you sat at. “Morning, smokeshow.” He smirked as he looked back at you from over his shoulder while crossing the room to the fridge.

“Shut up, Eddie,” you said with a mouth full of cereal. Shamefully, you felt heat climb into your cheeks.

He snickered as he sat down across from you. “Really? That’s all you got?”

You swallowed your food and glared at him. “Give me a break. It’s eight in the morning.”

He gave you his signature smile before flipping through the magazine on the table. Karen walked into the kitchen and sent you a knowing look once she saw you and Eddie being civil.

She made her own breakfast, and took Eddie’s seat when he left. “So, anything interesting happen recently?”

“Besides having a hit single, not much. I do really like that Daisy girl, though.”

Karen stared at you blankly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You placed your fingers to your temples and closed your eyes. “I sense something brewing between Karen Karen and Graham the Man. Nothing else between any other band members, so it would be pointless to ask.”

She laughed. “I sense nothing of the sort. I’m letting Camila deal with you. I just can’t anymore.”

Y/N: Looking back on it, we were pretty insufferable.

With Billy and Daisy writing songs by themselves, you and the others had some time to kill. Karen and Graham were off at the beach while you hung back with Warren and Eddie.

They really loved Rollerball. Either that or they were really high. You were willing to bet on the latter.

By the third showing, you didn’t fail to notice how close Eddie had gotten to you. His arm brushed against yours, and he leaned his head close to yours.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, moving away from him and bringing your arm off of the armrest.

He frowned and folded his arms over his chest. Both of you knew something just happened, but refused to acknowledge it. The tension in the air was thick.

Once back at the house, you went to your room immediately. You planned on calling Camila and bothering her with questions about what all these shenanigans with Eddie mean.

What you didn’t expect was Eddie following you into your room and closing the door behind him.

You glanced up from the phone. “What are you doing? Get out, I’m busy.”

The phone rang twice before Camila picked up. “What are we?” Eddie asked. You hung up before she could get a word out.

“What are you talking about?”

He looked more annoyed than he did angry, but the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Well, one second you’re rubbing up against me in a movie theater and the other you’re acting all pissed about it.”

You physically cringed. “‘Rubbing up against you?’ That is not what happened.”

“Then what about all those times you tell me I’m hot, huh?”

“You’re the one who initiates that!” you said exasperatedly. “All I do is respond. If you’re trying to insinuate that I flirt with you, then that’s all you.”

He marched up to you until he was mere feet away. “You’re so hot and cold that it drives me insane. Do you want me or not?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Pretty bold of you to assume I would want you.”

He made a wild gesture with his hands and ran one over his face. “You’re exhausting. You make me so mad, and I hate that I like you.”

“Shut up, you don’t like me. We hate each other.”

“Oh, my God, you don’t get it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I think about you. All the time. When I see a stupid joke in a magazine, I think of you. When I hear a John Denver song, I think of you. You drive me fucking crazy, Y/n! People who hate each other don’t think about each other like this, don’t act like this. I like you, for God’s sake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You listen to John Denver?”

“That’s all you have to say?” He tried sounding angry but he was laughing too.

“I thought you were a rockstar.” You mocked him by holding up two ‘rock on’ hand signs.

“You don’t even care about the sentiment.” He rolled his eyes.

“Be quiet.” You were smiling when you kissed him, cupping his face while his arms snaked around your back.

You tangled both hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss by tilting his head and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

Your fingers messed up his hair before moving down to tug on his shirt collar, pulling him impossibly close.

He tapped your thigh and pulled his lips from yours to whisper, “Jump.”

You complied. He held onto your back with one hand as the other gripped your thigh while your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your hands came back up to rake through his hair, tugging it softly. He continued kissing you feverishly as he made his way to your bed. He almost dropped you when he lowered your body to it.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over you, kissing down your neck while you gripped his shirt.

“It’s quiet,” Karen said, sitting on the couch, no longer hearing the near screaming match happening in your bedroom.

“Too quiet,” Graham agreed. Warren stood up and pressed his ear to the door, his mouth dropping open.

“Guys, I think they’re boning in there.”

“Warren, please refrain from saying ‘boning.’”

[otaku553]

omg pjsk fan?? whats your fav song (chart-wise) and fav character??? maybe fav band if you have one?

Piano forte scandal is the only one of these that I’ve full combo’d and I specifically enjoy it a lot because it’s a lot of very consistent tapping with minimal sliders and flicks I think. Honestly feel like it should be a 29 for now nice it is

Jinsei is just fun for some reason? The slow portion is almost always a combo killer but the fast tapping portions have some very nice satisfying patterns. Closest I’ve come to FCing is 2 misses I think

Invisible is difficult but it’s also a song I used to listen to a lot so some of the patterns just come intuitively with that lmao. Also the beginning part is fun.

I have sooooo many more favorites I’ve been a vocaloid fan since like,, middle school so I know a lot of the songs. But these are the ones I’m most actively trying to clear rn probably

Past this point I’m just going to be rambling so here we go:

I’m very bad at picking favorites but if I had to say favorite character, probably Rui? I can probably write an essay on it but I enjoy how his dynamic with the group has developed and how despite how he comes across at first as a crazy genius type he’s actually incredibly considerate of safety and his group’s wellbeing. He strikes an excellent middle ground between characters in excitement and the creativity born from that as well as rationality and knowing when to tone things down

And then for favorite band, I honestly Cannot Choose between wondershow and n25. Wondershow is excellently well-balanced and I can see clear dynamics and foils in pretty much every possible pairing or trio in the group, as well as in the group as a whole. They’re very good also at balancing humor and angst along with plenty of character development— I’ve heard people cite emu as a weak point in the group but honestly emu holds quite strong as her own character with the dreamers event and her ambitions/motivations and traumas!

And nightcord, though focusing really strongly on Mafuyu, is also pretty excellently written imo. It doesn’t seem like it at first I think with the main storyline and the sort of “oh no she’s going off to produce her own music because she wants to be alone” sort of thing and they sort of are a bit cheesy about their depiction of mafuyu’s depression at time but the events have really fleshed out her conflict very well. I think what gets me about nightcord is that their later depiction of the relationship between mafuyu and her mother is scarily realistic, all the way down to the manipulation tactics her mother uses against her to make her decisions seem like her own choice and not something her mother has railroaded her into. It’s the way that mafuyu’s mother seems to never do anything out of malice, but out of a genuine desire for her daughter to grow up successful and satisfied with her life, while her daughter never pushes back because she’s been conditioned to never do so since childhood, so her mother never gets that crucial feedback to stop pushing, eventually breaking mafuyu in the process.

Idk I wasn’t a big fan of their early writing for mafuyu but they’ve built her up to the point that she is scarily relatable in how she’s grown up to become lost and directionless and you just can’t help but root for their friend group and hope that the support system they’re building for mafuyu works out. I think that really is what project sekai’s writing excels in: making friend groups that have realistic dynamics and that act as strong support systems. It’s kind of therapeutic to watch them interact with each other and help each other out

[lostinvasileios]

Hii I wanted to ask you about Apollo because lately I have felt some sort of connection but I haven't seen the obvious signs. I got into paganism for this feeling I have and it has felt right but I'm still not sure, it would be nice to know if he is reaching out or wants to work with me. I would also love some advice because I'm a complete beginner. Thank you for your time and have a great day ☀️

Hello, lovebee! Thank you for asking! 🤍🪻

So, firstly, you don't need any blatant, big, grand, sparkly lit up sign(s) from a deity to attempt to get close with them, if that makes sense. It's super, super important to realize that your feelings/instincts will tell you a lot when it comes to your deity work. I want you to know is that if it feels right, if it feels safe - (and, sometimes, it won't feel safe. And that's almost always because, as humans, we tend to fear the unknown a lot. And stepping into new deities, into a spiritual path, ect, is unknown regardless of how much studying or whatever you've done beforehand. But! Fear and excitement can feel the exact same. One thing that you're gonna do a lot is take that leap of fear, and come out on the other side feeling that thrill of relief of not letting it consume you.) - and if it gives you those happy feelings in all of the various forms that they can come in, it's almost a definite truth for your path. Does that make sense?

When it comes to deities, I often overlooked the connection I had with them when I was first starting out because I thought, well, it was "just a feeling", but, I've come to learn that a huge part of deity work IS feeling!

The only reason I started to work with Apollon at first was because I felt some sort of - draw to him. He, along with a lot of (if not all of them) deities often will send an emotion, a constant-like thought of them or things connected to them, ect as a way to tell you how they want your company/to work with you.

For example, even before I started working with deities myself but was aware of their existences, I had this persistent (and I mean persistent) thought of Asmodeus. His name repeating in my head, feeling some form of butterflies at the thought of him, ect. But it took me months into my journey to begin to even question if he'd like to be around me in any capacity. And, funnily enough, it turns out he's one of my soul spouses.

(Of course, not every deity you feel drawn to is spoused to your soul, just to clarify!)

Apollon is a very, very social deity. He loves getting new devotees, he loves helping people, ect. Actually, he helped me through the first year or so of my journey.

Now, the relationship I have with him won't be like yours, since, if you weren't aware: everyone's interactions with deities will be different based off of countless things, but one of the major (if not the major) key points being because of the different souls. So, take this next part with a grain of salt.

From my experience with him, he's a very tender god. He's a very loving, considerate, patient, and - lords, I could mush about him endlessly. He's the type of lord that will kiss away your tears and ease your worries. You can be as repetitive as you like with your fears and doubts, and he'll be right there with you through it all to reassure you of any and everything.

But, of course, he also does have his more - firmer sides to him. He is a god of rage, amongst all his other things. Now, he's never yelled at me, punished me, ect. But, he has made his... Stance? On certain things very clear to me. When we first started working together, I had very... Bad habits. I was not nice to myself, emotionally, mentally, or physically. At all, really.

I was very harmful to myself. And lived in a very toxic environment. And, yes, Apollon being the sweetheart he is, accompanied me and wrapped bandages around my wounds, but, at the same time, he'd give me those stern (yet loving) talks about how I shouldn't inflict them on myself, how I shouldn't worsen the pain I was already going through by allowing myself to use the same weapons my parents, friends, ect would use on me, on myself.

To work with him, or any deities in my opinion, you have to be open to... Well... Change. And, that was drastically hard for me at first. But, the thing is, Apollon is a god of light and truth, as well. And some things that come with that are the light he'll shine on things you've pushed to the shadows, and the pain that'll come with having to face the truths of your reality.

Don't worry too much, however. That most likely won't happen until sometime into your journey with him. And, it'll be in your best interest whenever it does happen. Healing hurts, and he also rules in healing. He will re-open some of your deepest scars, but he does it to properly treat them and stitch them up himself. Not just the self-taught, shaky way that they were closed up before. If that makes sense, haha.

Also! Don't be afraid to get close with him when/if you two start working together. I've found out that he particularly enjoys being able to participate in some cliche's. Like having nick/petnames for one another, allowing him to listen to your ranting or vents, telling him small things about yourself (favorite colors, plants, ect), and so on.

A lot of the time, I see people who want so badly to get close with their deities, but are too afraid or unsure how to. All in all, it does depend on your form of love and what you're comfortable with. What you're able to do. But, it can be as simple as eating something in devotion for them. Thinking of them. Making them a small, or big, playlist. A pinterest board, ect ect. You can trust yourself to find ways to help feel closer to your deities, you can trust yourself.

And, no, you don't need a job to worship or get close to a god either.

(It's also very important to establish your boundaries, not that deities intentionally try to make you uncomfortable/to trigger you! It's just, you want to have some ground basics put down first, then maybe you'll learn some more along the way... Basically - communication. Very important, lol.)

Sorry I yapped as much as I did here, I hope it helped clear some things up for you, honey! May Apollon give you his loving rays.

[boiohboii]

The Tattoo Sleeve (Neymar Jr. Soulmate au)

Chapter 1

Prologue

I am currently sleep deprived, so I am really sorry for any mistakes.

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Warning: curse words

Taglist: @itzz-me-duh

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

"I need something to cheer me up that doesn't come from a vending machine," y/n took a seat beside the young children "you got any ideas?"

Three pairs of confused brown eyes looked to their left, seeing a white coat before tilting their heads up to see an unfamiliar face. Anyone passing could feel the peculiar atmosphere; the young lady having a relaxing aura while the three boys looked uncertain of the question itself, much less how to answer.

"Don't worry," reassured y/n "I am a doctor here, my name is y/n."

With a look to each other, the three decided to trust the long piece of clothing along with the card hanging on her neck, and introduced themselves.

"Thiago"

"Davi"

"Mateo"

"You boys have such nice names." Cooed y/n.

"Thank you."

"We are not babies!"

"Don't talk to an adult like that! Papa and Mama told us to be nice."

The two brunet boys reminded her of tom & Jerry in that moment, they were currently arguing about whether to be polite or to not trust strangers. Both rules taught to them by their parents, and both were correct - well, some would argue about always being polite rule, but that's not the current issue.

"A hug." A timid reply came as the blonde boy admired his swinging feet.

"Well, who's the lucky person that you hug?"

"Papa and mama," Lucca smiled. "My grandma too! She gives the best hugs!"

Y/n smiled at the small boy's enthusiasm as he talked about everyone that has hugged him with a wide grin on his face.

"What about me?!" Exclaimed Thiago. "I hug you too!"

"Yeah, but you're shorter than me!"

"Hey! My brother isn't short! He is big and strong!"

A laugh escaped y/n as she watched the three boys argue over the fact that a person is short doesn't mean they aren't strong. Oh they are so cute! I want to squish their cheeks so bad!

Going through her pockets, y/n searched for a few candies to give to the boys as a thank you for cheering her up, she always loved talking to kids they had the most genuine and entertaining conversations, especially with each other. However, as she was digging around she felt a smooth, slightly wet smudge on her fingertips, no no, please god I don't want to stay in a small cubicle for 10 minutes to reapply anything!

Looking at her wrist, the concealer's tone was bright and clear against the white sleeve margins, y/n groaned and rolled her head backwards.

"Miss, are you okay?"

Came a small voice, making y/n realise that the three boys have stopped their back and forth and watched her intently, not sure if they should move away in case she wanted to rest; Davi remembered his mother telling him of how hard doctors work and study to be able to help him, or if she was hurt and they should call someone.

"Ahh yes," y/n smiled reassuringly. "Just my coat got a bit dirty and I have to go change."

She wasn't about to tell them that her connection to her soulmate was writing on skin, and that her soulmate was obsessed so she had to wake up nearly before all and any gathering or meeting or work appointment by 3 hours to cover up tattoos that her soulmate placed on his skin with no consideration of the consequences that will occur to her nor her request at 23 years old asking him to please, stop.

Yes, she was and still is bitter about it, she can hold a grudge. (She, in fact, can not hold a grudge for more than 2 hours.)

"Is that a tattoo?" Mateo frowned with knitted eyebrows as he tried to get a better look at the drawings under her sleeves.

Wide eyes and a stumped smile on her face, y/n nodded, wondering how such a young boy knows what tattoos are. Well, there is internet everywhere. However, unlike her thoughts, the little boy had recently been obsessed with his father's right arm, looking at the black ink with the occasional question.

"Papa has that!" Raved Thiago as he looked at his brother and friend with shinning eyes and a wide smile. He had rarely seen any women with tattoos, only a few and he has no idea why, but it was something new to him and it made him want to sit with the doctor for much longer.

"Yes! Uncle Leo and papa have tattoos!" Gushed the blonde boy with his friends before asking y/n if there was more.

Not seeing any harm in showing three little boys the small uncovered part of her uncontrolled tattoo sleeve, she lifted a bit of her coat, just a layer really. And as soon as she had done so, the only blonde gasped as his eyes widened, freezing in place.

He looked familiar, very oddly familiar, and she knew that, she knew that she saw him before, she saw him nearly everyday in black ink on her forearm. She was desperate for the thought in her head to be wrong, to just be her mind playing tricks on her or for her to just currently be going through a romantic drought that she is making things up.

But, she was so, very wrong.

"That looks like papa's!" Davi exclaimed as soon as y/n showed her arm.

Well, holy shit. I am not insane. I'm right!

Oh. I 'm right.

Chapter 2

[joys-of-everyday]

The two SQQs: SY and SJ

Completely different people? The same person? Reincarnations of one another? Foils?

Aiyah, don't you love it when there's enough content to get juicy analysis but just enough ambiguity for wild theories? There's a surprisingly large spread of onions opinions on this topic which is fun to read though.

It has been pointed out by a number of people that SY and SJ are very different from each other (some interesting bits of analysis: 1, 2, funny: 3). Equally noted are their similarities (nice post here 4), and others have picked out things which hint in that direction, such as the fact SY seemingly isn't possessing the body, and has SJ's memories in his brain (5). Of course the system could very much be operating on different terms to the rest of the world, but it's consideration worthy because a subtroupe of the 'reincarnate into the villain' troupe is 'the transmigrater was actually the same person all along'. Even without going into the nitty gritties of how transmigration works, they are connected by their shared body and name - here's a great post on how SQQ describes his own feelings through og!SQQ (6).

Now then *cackles* *rubs hands*

The Lack of Self

SJ is a former slave who does everything in his power to survive and excel. SY is fairly well-off and has a dangerous lack of self-preservation.

SJ is ambitious without end. SY is a wastes his life on webnovels.

SJ is acerbic and stand-offish. SY is softer and friendlier.

They are different people!

An onion opinion I see a lot are 'they're obviously different people so they can't be reincarnations of one another'. Firstly, like bro, do you know how reincarnation works? If I reincarnate into a slug, don't try to tell me that the slug and I have the same personality. Jokes aside, this naturally begs the question: 'what constitutes our soul?', or adjacent: 'what within us is permeant?'.

Some would argue nothing. (And this is a highly radical statement if you think about it.) This is subtle (I won't pretend to understand it fully), but for example what does it mean to be 'selfless'. To do selfless acts? To be compelled to do selfless acts? But what compels me to do selfless acts? An innate 'selflessness' within me? If right now I can decide to stop doing selfless acts, that means I am no longer 'selfless'. So that innate 'selflessness' isn't in fact permanent, so can it really be something I own? On the contrary, if I can't just decide to stop the compulsion to be 'selfless', can that compulsion really be called 'me', since I am not in control of it?

Even without going so far, it's clear that our experiences have a deep impact on who we are. Take Bingge and Bingmei. They are different people, yet they are the same. Their divergence started at age twelve. Now at age twelve, a human is still rather squishy. Some studies suggest (the Best Source is Wikipedia Obviously) that human personality shows most active development between the ages of 20-40 (note Bingge was in the Abyss between ages 17-22).

Fundamental characteristics vs outcomes

Okay, 'they could be the same and still different' isn't particularly useful, but something that could be argued with SJ and SY is that they have the same personality seeds, expressed differently. 4 does this (see above), adding a few points.

Acerbic. Neither SJ nor SY are really people people. SJ’s love language seems to be blatantly insulting people (poor YQY). SY’s interactions with PIDW and Airplane bro need not be explained (they’re hilarious) (and also, SY was an internet troll). But SJ’s acerbic attitude pushes people away from him when he needs them most, while SY’s snarky wit is a joke to whoever has the honour of witnessing it. SJ is perceived as a violent and hateful person (‘I’ll kill you’ he says to at least two people he ends up saving the lives of – Shi Wu and LQG). SY, having grown up in a much less violent society and having much less violent ways of expressing this stinginess (calling for the castration of a fictional character vs. saying you want you co-worker dead), is perceived as far more lovable.

Difficulties with communication. Both SJ and SY are infamously bad at expressing themselves. This gets both of them in trouble. But SY’s difficulties in communication primarily arise around his feelings and his sexuality. He doesn’t have the same distrust of others as SJ, arising in SJ from his many childhood traumas. So while SY manages to create a disaster with LBH, he manages to maintain amicable (if hilariously frustrated) relationships with everyone around him. SJ? A lot of his difficulties with communication come from his strained relationship with his past. He is unable to admit weakness. He cannot ask for help. Ruins everything.

Empathy, but in a funny way. SJ is a funny one. He goes out of his way to save people with no gain on his behalf on several occasions and yet he continuously tries to tell you he’s evil. Then there’s SQQ, who justifies letting a bunch of teenagers die by being like ‘oh they’re book characters’ but then clearly feels uncomfortable about it as soon as it starts to happen. Both of them have this weird way of internally dismissing the fact that they do – in fact – care about people. The stark difference between them is that SJ is much more comfortable with murder and violence, although that’s very much explainable by his background.

Anyway, I could go on (their insanely unreliable internal monologues, their negative self-perception, how they both pretend to be people they aren't...) but the point is that the same personality traits, nurtured in different environments, can produce very different results. On one hand, this is a narrative choice - SY and SJ's parallels are precisely what makes them good foils of each other. But also, these connections are what allows the various reincarnation/SY=SJ with memory loss theories to float. (Then again, different people can have similar personality traits.)

The influence of roles

‘Qingqiu’ is the title of the Qing Jing Peak Lord as much as a name, to SJ as well as SY. So what does it mean to 'be Shen Qingqiu'? (parallel question, I like Doctor Who, what does it mean to 'be the Doctor'?).

Both of them are actors. In their own way, they are acting Shen Qingqiu – the (emotionally constipated) scholar, aloof and restrained. This isn’t like a… bad thing, inherently. We all have different 'faces' for different social situations – people act differently towards say, their boss or teacher, as opposed to their close friends. There's a tendency to view this as 'acting' as opposed to an illusive 'true self'. While there's definitely scales to how authentic you are being (you might feel like you're 'acting' far more around say a coworker as opposed to a close friend), but you could also argue that bundled together, this so-called 'acting' is precisely what makes you you. In acting Shen Qingqiu, both Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu become Shen Qingqiu.

The Influence of Body

Slightly more on the side of metaphysical bs, the body is the bridge between your consciousness and your body. Since we don’t do a lot of body hopping, we don’t often appreciate just how much your body influences your perception of reality and the way reality works around you. (Apparently the bacteria in your gut can influence your moods. Like, isn't that crazy?)

SY is in SQQs body. At least after the Lingxi caves, he is comfortable in that body. He experiences the strengths and limitations of SJ’s physical reality. On a wider scale, he experiences (at least for the first few months) how the people around SJ interact with him. Very literally, he is in SJ’s boots. How could that not rub off on him?

It’s quite interesting that all the peak lords thought ‘oh he lost his memories, that’s why he’s like this’ and just accepted that. Their mannerisms were similar enough for that to be plausible. That might be a sign that they're somehow connected on the level of souls, or it might be something that's written into SJ's body.

(Theory that the mushroom body was 3-4/10 similar to SJ okay bc he used SJ’s blood, but also cuz SY sees himself in the mirror so often that he’s unconsciously accepted it as his own face, the way your internal image of yourself changes as you grow old.)

Same People From Parallel Universes

A sister onion opinion to 'they're different people so they can't be reincarnations of one another' is 'they're different people so they can't be the same person' (I know, the question is funny). Mirror universe in Star Trek anyone? It's the evil twin troupe right?

Conclusion

Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu are pretty different! They also have some interesting similarities. Experiences make you what you are. How much of what you are? ...well that is up for debate.

And of course, for the purposes of writing fanfic, 100% endorse going crazy on the theories. I love Shen siblings. I love SY=SJ for angst purposes. I love SY and SJ ripping each other to shreds. I love SY and SJ making each other better.

[againstacecilia]

Target Practice

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Warnings: Canon weapon use, flirting, pretty chill chapter

A/N: This is honestly kind of a filler chapter but I had so much fun writing it and learning about the different blasters lolol. This entire story wouldn't be nearly as good without @creatively-analytical as beta-reader extraordinaire, so all my love and thanks to you, darling!!! 💖 Asks are always open!!

To your immense satisfaction, Din announces after dinner that your hand to hand combat is progressing nicely and you won’t spar nightly anymore. Whether that was due to you taking him down earlier in the evening or genuine trust in your abilities you didn’t really care, it meant that you might not wake up tomorrow sore. Although, that had also become a thing of the past; the more you and Din practiced and sparred, the less often you woke up with stinging muscles and surprise bruises.

A glance in the fresher mirror as you were getting ready for bed shows the physical progress you have made as well. Definition was beginning to show up along your arms, your eyes are bright and clear, and something in your stance radiates confidence. But becoming strong wasn’t something that was strictly on the outside of your body; the changes were internal as well. You couldn’t imagine recognizing yourself if you ran into your past self and the feeling blossomed something akin to pride in your chest.

The hold is glowing when you step out of the fresher, light panels illuminating the angles and edges of the metal around you. Everything is softened in the light, including the Mandalorian sitting on your cot, helmet trained on your every move. His armor remains in the corner of the room, neglected since your training began hours ago. Only his beskar helmet returned to its place after being removed for dinner.

“I had an idea,” he says as you settle onto the cot next to him.

“And what’s that?”

“I think we should stop for one day on the way so I can teach you more about weapons.”

You roll your eyes playfully and scoff, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Tonis sounded pretty clear on his timeframe.”

“This is a necessary stop, you need more than just hand to hand combat skills for what we’re headed into,” Din reasoned. “Plus, it’ll make me feel better about you coming along if I teach you as much as I can.”

You expect to feel nervous about the situation, but instead the care he’s showing in just a couple statements shines through and you feel a wash of gratitude toward him. It’s easy, now, to see the meaning behind his words. You’re ready to learn more, you can handle it, I care for you and want you to be safe. You nod, “You make some good points…”

“I know.” You can hear the smile in his words.

You turn toward him and sit criss-cross with your hands clasped together in your lap. “Alright. We stop and you teach me some more. What am I to be learning?”

Din reaches over and takes one of your hands, rubbing light circles along the back of it. “More practice with your blaster will be the main goal. Might even teach you to use a rifle. General weapons training.”

“Sounds good to me.” You slip down onto your back, legs over his in an echo of the night before. “With such a good teacher, I’m sure I’ll pick it up in no time.” He chuckles, transferring his touch to your legs.

A beautiful quiet settles over the cargo hold. Din’s head tips back with a clunk on the wall of the Crest. “We’ll stop sometime in the next few hours.”

“You can come down here, you know,” you scoot over to give him room on the cot. There may not really have been any room, but the thought of Din leaving and staying in his little nook made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

He stares down at you for a moment in consideration. Slowly, he adjusts his body to lay behind you. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies shift together as his arms wrap around and pull you close.

“Din?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He squeezes you gently, “I’m glad you’re here too, Cuyan.”

- - - - - - -

Your end goal was ultimately the Core World of Corellia, but your stop for training is on Sarka. Mid Rim and small, Din lands the Razor Crest in an uninhabited area in the mountains to avoid accidentally running into anyone. As the engines shut down, the sound of a flowing waterfall rumbles through the walls.

Down in the hold, Din hands you a new blaster, a slightly larger one with a sight, and a belt with a new holster. “You’ll wear your old blaster and holster as normal, but I want you to have this one as well. It’s better for longer ranges.” After you fit your thigh holster in its place, Din helps you adjust the new one. Supple leather rests naturally on your hips, the holster settling on the opposite side from where your old blaster sits. His touch lingers on your hips, sending sparks through you.

“How do I look?”

“Dral,” he responds, both hands pulling your hips and body closer, “Strong.” His fingers dig into your flesh through the fabric of your shirt and leggings.

“Din,” you breathe, trying to keep control of yourself, “Training?”

Din clears his throat, “Right. Training.” He steps back and gives you an actual once over before grabbing his own weapons. “Let’s go.”

You giggle and follow him out of the Crest, ramp closing behind you. The clearing you landed in is grassy, surrounded by mountain trees. The waterfall roars behind the ship. “I’ve never seen mountains like this,” you comment with awe, slowly turning in place and admiring the sights.

“They’re some of the biggest in the Galaxy,” Din responds next to you. “I had to capture someone here, once.”

“I’m sure that was fun,” sarcasm laces your words.

“It actually was.” He leads you to the middle of the clearing. “Alright, stretches first.”

Going through the stretches and forms is second nature now, your body responding and reacting without much thought. You use the time to calm your mind, pushing out any thoughts of lingering touches and glances and focusing on the task at hand. Din seems more focused as well by the time he moves you on to the blaster at your hip.

“This is a modified DL-18 blaster,” he explains. “There’s a sight for slightly longer range shots than what your sidearm can do.” The mechanics are similar to what you’ve gotten used to on your smaller gun (“That one’s an ELG-3A.”) and it’s easy to pick up on the differences. The gun on your thigh would be for your dominant hand, the other for your off hand as backup.

Like during your first training session, Din lines tins and other targets up along the clearing and asks you to knock down as many as you can. No time constraints, just feeling the weapon in your hand and how it feels to shoot. Lift, aim, breathe, aim, and squeeze.

Tins fly off their resting places one by one, some more stubbornly than the others. You take your time and focus on each target. After they’ve all successfully been knocked down, you lower your blaster and turn to face Din.

He’s standing right behind you, towering beskar form eliciting an oof from you as you bump into him. You look up into his visor. “How was that?”

“You’re a natural.” His voice is low, skittering over your bones. Your face heats and you turn away, hoping nothing in that helmet can track your breathing or heart rate. “Let’s practice with the other one.”

He steps away and goes to reset the targets a little further away this time. You watch every step, need growing with each move of his body. You can’t help your eyes roving over his body as he walks back toward you, cape whipping in the light wind and steps purposeful. The power radiating from him crawls over the ground toward you, slinking up your body and sending your mind racing. He steps behind you again, “Go again, and remember to take your time.”

Grabbing the DL-18, you take a moment to feel its weight in your hand. In the back of your mind, though, all you can feel is the heat coming off Din, his body inches from your own. You shake your head and lift your arm.

“Wait.” You freeze as Din’s arms surround your body. His hands envelop yours and he adjusts your grip on the blaster. “This one’s a little bigger so you have a little more room to fit your hands comfortably and securely.”

His hands leave yours and you take a breath. Aim. Squeeze. The slightly larger weapon takes some time to get used to but the targets fall one by one. With comments here and there, Din helps you mold your stance and aim over the next few hours. When he’s satisfied with the speed and accuracy of your shots, Din says, “Good. Very good, Cuyan. Let’s stop for now.”

Arms shaking from the unfamiliar weight and angle of the new blaster, you flip the safety on and holster the weapon on your waist. You realize, though, that the vibrating in your limbs isn’t just from the training; the pent up energy from the afternoon needs a release.

“Let’s spar,” you suggest, removing your weapons and stripping to your base layers. The sun setting through the mountaintops had heated your little hideaway over the afternoon. Although, the heat in your body could’ve been due to other factors as well…

“You sure?” Din asks, unbuckling and removing his armor at your nod.

This is what you needed; a physical way to get rid of the nerves and emotions coiled through your body. You don’t hold back sending punch after jab after sweep in Din’s direction. If he’s surprised at your renewed vigor he doesn’t show it. He just moves along with you.

The sparring session becomes a dance. You weave through his attacks, light and lithe on your feet. He manages to catch your wrist and pull you close before you whip out of his grip and spin out of his reach. You land a blow to his stomach, only for him to catch your shoulder and nearly knock you off your feet. Neither of you get the upper hand on the other for too long before the energy shifts, and the sun sets further by the time you raise your arms in defeat, both of you panting from the exertion.

“You… Win…” You say between breaths. Hands on your knees, you let your head hang as you let your breathing return to normal.

Din sits on the ground in front of you before flopping to his back. “If you hadn’t said something, I was close to giving you the round.” His head lifts in your direction, “You’ve come a long way.”

Straightening up and walking over to him, you help him stand and gather your things on the ground. “I told you, I have a great teacher.”

He holds your hand for an extra beat before letting you go to don his armor again. Even after thoroughly exhausting yourself, you can’t help but watch his deft hands work the armor back into place, the way he places his weapons back where they belong.

Back on the Crest, you both clean your blasters and Din reviews with you how they work internally. He has a few power packs laying around for both of yours, but after this you’ll definitely need to get more. Disassembling and reassembling your guns give your hands something to do for the next couple of hours, leaving your mind free to drift.

“When was the last time someone saw you without your helmet?” you ask after a stretch of silence.

“I removed it for Grogu when he left,” Din responds factually. There’s an edge to his voice, though.

You look up at him. “What does that mean for your Creed?”

“I… Don’t know,” his admission is laced with guilt. “But I’m going to find more Mandalorians and find out.”

Nodding and looking back down at your blaster, you slip the final piece into place before speaking again. “When are others allowed to see you without your helmet?”

His hands still before he answers. His helmet lifts to you slowly, “We really only remove our helmets for… Certain people.”

The energy in the room shifts as your mind begins to race. Family, maybe? Or maybe…

“Oh, like… When you’re married to someone?”

“Marriage is a little different for my people, but yes. My ridurr is the only person who can see my face.”

Heart now racing along with your mind, you nod. “Makes sense. Have you ever had someone… Like that?”

“No,” he answers frankly.

“Ah.” The conversation comes to an awkward end and the two of you clean up the rags and tools. Once everything is put away, you stop in front of him as he heads toward the cockpit.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I... feel like I asked you an inappropriate question earlier and it got weird and I’m sorry.” You look down at your feet after you finish talking.

“Hey,” he calls your attention back up to his visor. “You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry I responded poorly.” He steps closer and takes a breath. “I don’t really know where I stand with the other Mandalorians but that doesn’t excuse me being short with you.”

A soft smile lights your lips and you nod. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“You’re fine to ask me anything, Cuyan, you’ve earned that.” Din squeezes your shoulder as he climbs to the cockpit.

Later, his voice comes over the comms system through the cargo hold. "Let’s stay here for the night and leave in the morning. We’re not too far from Corellia, one extra night won’t hurt."

“Sounds good, Din. You staying up there tonight?”

"Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I gotta make sure is good for the rest of the trip. I’ll wake you up before we leave."

“Okay. Sleep tight.”

"You too."

- - - - - - - -

In the middle of the night, you wake up to strong hands bringing you close to a warm body. You keep your eyes closed as plush lips kiss the crown of your head. The corners of your lips lift into a contented smile as you drift back to sleep in Din’s embrace.

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[jarino]

Giving up the Ghost: Chapter 18 (Eternal Peace)

Link and Zelda meet with the sages and determine the future of Hyrule.

AO3 Link

Link and Zelda slowly made their way back to Lookout Landing. When they arrived, Purah and the sages were there waiting for them.

When Sidon’s eyes landed on the pair, he immediately sprinted forward, scooping Link up into his arms. He planted a series of desperate kisses all across his face, holding him close.

“I was afraid for you…” he murmured, his voice warbled.

Link gently patted his cheek, leaning back slightly so he could meet Sidon’s gaze. ‘I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m okay.’

Tears pricked Sidon’s eyes and he pulled Link in for a proper kiss. Link returned the affection with everything he could, tilting his head for better access.

Zelda coughed slightly, which forced the two of them apart, each blushing deeply.

She giggled and said, “It seems there’s a lot you’ll have to catch me up on.”

Sidon set Link back down on the ground and rubbed the back of his tail awkwardly. “My apologies, your Highness. I must say, it is so good to see that you are safe and sound.”

She gave a gentle smile. “Thank you. I’m just glad everything worked out in the end.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Purah asked. “No residual…draconic traits?”

“Draconic?” Riju asked in confusion.

Zelda let out a small sigh. “There’s so much to tell you all. I’m not sure where to start.”

“I have an idea,” Mineru suggested. “Perhaps we could all convene at the Temple of Time. You can explain everything along the way.”

Smiling, Zelda said, “That sounds like a good idea.”

Thankfully, the Purah Pad was able to teleport the entire group to the Great Sky Island. They all walked through the landscape, admiring the view as they went. Zelda told the sages everything that had happened after she fell below the castle, detailing all she could.

When they reached the temple, Mineru left her construct outside, her spirit emerging and floating alongside them.

As they neared the walkway outside, Yunobo and Sidon both looked over the edge, admiring the view.

“Wow…I’ve never been this high up before, goro,” Yunobo said in wonder.

“Thank you for coming. I wanted to share this view of Hyrule with you all,” Mineru uttered with a smile.

“What a sight it is…” Riju said, mild awe in her voice. She turned to the princess and asked, “And Zelda…you were roaming the skies this whole time?”

“Yes, although…I don’t really remember.”

Mineru spoke up then, theorizing that Rauru and Sonia channeled their light and time powers through Link in order to return Zelda to normal. Link had a suspicion that that was the case, but it was nice to have a more concrete answer. He glanced down at his right hand, flexing the fingers.

He still carried Rauru’s arm. It was likely he would have it for the rest of his days.

When Link looked up again, he saw that Mineru was beginning to slowly fizzle away. She looked down at her hand, a solemn expression on her face. “Now it seems…it is my time.”

“Mineru…” Zelda said sadly, taking a step toward her.

Smiling, Mineru told Zelda not to worry. They had overcome the Demon King and Zelda would be just fine without her.

Tulin hummed in consideration before letting out a hurried exclamation. He turned to Link and the other sages, conveying his thoughts with his eyes. Ah…Link had told his friends on the way here about the sages of Rauru’s era…about the oath they had taken to pledge their loyalty. This must be what Tulin was suggesting.

The sages nodded to each other in agreement before taking a few steps back, making a semicircle that faced the princess. Once Zelda curiously turned to face them, they began to speak in unison, with Link signing along.

“Those of us gathered here swear on our lives to support Princess Zelda, and…”

They lost their rhythm for a moment, each chuckling and looking at each other awkwardly for a moment. Riju cleared her throat to get them all back on track.

“…to support Princess Zelda and safeguard the land of Hyrule.”

Zelda looked shocked for a moment before she began to smile.

“Rauru and Sonia will be pleased to hear this,” Mineru said warmly. “And I’ll let them know just how much you care.”

Zelda turned to her, her expression saddened as her friend began to disappear for good. She watched as her spirit dissipated, floating into the air around them.

Zelda gave a soft sigh. She was silent for several moments before she spoke again. “King Rauru, Queen Sonia…Mineru…the ancient sages…They sought to bring eternal peace to Hyrule. I would dedicate myself to that goal.”

She turned to face the sages, a determined look upon her face. “With your help, I believe I am ready to take on the title of Queen. Please, stand with me, and we will make Hyrule a place safe for all.”

Link and the sages approached her then, smiles upon their faces.

‘Are you okay?’ Link asked her.

She met his gaze, her eyes melancholic, but her lips pulled into a grin. “I will be. With all of you beside me, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

Link pulled her into a hug, which she easily reciprocated.

-----

A week later, Link and Zelda sat at their home in Hateno. Link rose to his feet, a look of hurt upon his face.

‘You’re…firing me?’

Zelda gave him a solemn smile. “I’m letting you go. You’re free to live your life.”

‘But…who will protect you?’

“There are the royal guards, and with more time, I will be able to fully master my powers. Besides, at this point, most of the danger has passed.”

‘What about the Yiga? They’re still a threat.’

Zelda sighed softly. “Link…I know you worry because you care. That is precisely why I’m dismissing you as my knight.”

He gazed at her in confusion.

“This position…it has caused you so much pain. The last thing I want to do is be the cause of your suffering. You should be free to do as you please, without being stuck by my side.”

‘But…I want to be there. I’ll always be here for you.’

“Exactly.” She exhaled deeply. “Link…I know that if I ask, you will come running. But until that time comes, I want you to live your own life. You needn’t be bound by an oath you made over a century ago. You deserve to be happy, with Sidon.”

Link’s eyes widened and his cheeks heated up.

‘I can’t convince you to change your mind?’

“I’m afraid not,” she said with a good-natured smile.

Link turned his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t at Zelda’s side…the Calamity and Upheaval excluded. He wasn’t sure what his purpose was, if not to be her guardian. But his thoughts turned to Sidon then and he paused.

In the years after the Calamity, he saw Sidon so infrequently. If he wasn’t at Zelda’s side, he would be free to see Sidon whenever he pleased. Maybe, he’d even find his home at the Domain.

Turning his attention back to Zelda, he asked, ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?’

Smiling warmly, she answered, “Positive.”

He sighed before stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. When he pulled back, he signed, ‘Don’t hesitate to call on me. I’ll always be there for you.’

“I know. Thank you.”

-----

When Link arrived in Zora’s Domain, Sidon instantly spotted him and came running to meet him. He pulled Link into the tightest hug, squeezing him close. “My sapphire! It is so good to see you again.”

Smiling, Link looked up at Sidon and signed, ‘Can we go speak at Mipha’s Court?’

“Of course!” Sidon exclaimed. “Come, you can ride on my back!”

When they reached the top of the waterfall, Link took a seat in the crystal-clear water, kicking his legs nonchalantly. Sidon sat down beside him, nuzzling his crest against the top of his head. “What did you wish to speak about, my pearl?”

‘I’ve made a decision,’ Link said, ‘about the arrangement.’

“Ah! And what have you decided?”

With a grin, he answered, ‘I would love to be your consort, if you’ll have me.’

Sidon’s beamed at him, his teeth shining brightly. “That is marvelous news, my love! Of course I will have you!” He pulled Link into a hug, nearly crushing him in his grip.

Link let out a series of giggles, squeezing Sidon just as tight.

When he pulled back, Link added, ‘I’m also no longer Zelda’s personal knight. I can stay in the Domain, if that’s okay.’

“The news just keeps getting better and better! Oh, to think you’ll be here all the time…I cannot wait.”

Link looked to the sky, watching as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

This was really happening. He and Sidon were going to be together and he had finally found a place he could call home.

Grabbing Sidon’s cravat, he pulled the zora down so that he could kiss him. Sidon let out a small squeak of surprise before he began returning the kiss in full.

Link thanked Hylia for allowing him this happiness. It had taken a lot of time and a lot of work, but he was finally getting his happily ever after.

Sitting in the sunset and kissing Sidon, he smiled.

Hyrule was safe, and he was free to be with the one he loved.

Finally, he could be at peace.

—

And so this story comes to an end. I'm still shocked I was able to write both of these fics within a month and a half… I don't have any plans to write more Sidlink, but I could change my mind in the future, we'll see. Thank you to everyone who's enjoyed this story! I really appreciate every one of you! <3

[ethanlvndry]

Roxto X reader fluff whit angst?

I've had this in my inbox since December, so I'm gonna clear it out!

Title: Only you

Pairing: Roxto x Metkayina!reader

Type:Angst, to fluff

⚠️:none

Pov:1st person

Summary: You see Roxto talking with one of the Metkayina girls that everyone has been crushing on. You, however, see how her expression changes when she comes around. Will you confess in time, or will it be too late?

♡♡♡

"You've got to tell him [name]!" Tik'ila urges me as she catches me, staring at Roxto from across the reef.

"No way! Don't you see the way he looks at Naku?"

I feel my eyes tear up at the mention of her name. I know I'll never be as pretty as her. So I think ill of her, even though it's not her fault.

"Oh, c'mon! He looks at her like she's a friend! He looks at her the way he looks at Ao'nung-"

She starts to talk more, but she's cut off by the very girl we were just talking about.

Naku.

"Hey you guys, I was wondering if you'd be willing to give me some.. Crush advice. There's this really cute boy who I've been talking to. But, I have no idea how to confess to him."

Tik and I make eye contact when we realize who she's talking about.

I was about to decline her request. Seeing as I had no experience in stuff like this. But Tik quickly took my spot and started spewing out recommendations that she never gave to me. Her best friend.

Naku thanks her and dismisses herself. Leaving Tik and I by ourselves. Tik suffering the blow of my pointed stare towards her, making her sweat bullets

"I'm sorry I panicked! She was just being so nice and I got nervous!" Of course, Tik is developing a crush on Naku. Just like Roxto probably did.

"I forgive you, but that doesn't mean I'll forget about it."

Tik'ila and I continue on our day together when night finally comes.

♡♡♡

As I'm walking back, I see Naku hiding behind a marui web, staring at Roxto from a distance, who's walking along the shore, and talking with Ao'nung.

I remember I had to pass by the shore, in order to get to my marui, and as I'm walking past, I hear my name being called. I pick up my shoulders and straighten my back at the vibrations coming from the ground that are getting more powerful. I turn to see Roxto, and Ao'nung trekking towards me.

"Hey [name]! What are you up to?" Ao'nung asks.

"Nothing, just about to go rest so that I'm ready for the celebration tomorrow. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Roxto was wondering if you could take my spot in the walk we usually do across the shore, I have to meet up with Neteyam."

"Of course I can. It's not like I was doing something important. Enjoy your time with Neteyam 'nung!"

As Ao'nung walks back to the village, I'm left to converse with Roxto, which is not the first time I have, but as I've gotten older, and my crush on him has grown. It's gotten difficult for me.

"I'm sorry if this is a burden for you, I can walk back to my marui if you wanna rest. Ao'nung isn't very considerate when Neteyam isn't around."

"Don't worry! I haven't been as active as zi wanted to be today. So you're helping me, and I'd like to thank you for that."

♡♡♡

After we take 2 whole laps around the entire island. We circle back to my marui. Roxto being kind enough to drop me off.

"I had such a good time with you, Roxto. We should do this again sometime."

"I did, too, I would love to do this again with you."

As I'm walking into my marui, I pass Roxto to see a faint purplish blush on his face. But it is wiped away faster than I can blink.

I reach my hand up to grab the flap that covers my pods entrance. But I am stopped by a hand latching onto my wrist, stopping me from doing so.

I look at Roxto and see an uneasy look in his eyes.

"Roxto, is everything alrig-"

I'm cut off by the feeling of lips being mashed against mine. Before it stops.

"I'm so sorry [name]! I don't know why I did th-"

He's cut off by me, pulling him back for a kiss.

"I like you too. But you like Naku more, don't you?"

"Naku and I are just friends. She has a crush on Ao'nung and Neteyam."

I facepalm myself at how stupid I've been to not notice the hand caressing that goes on with those 3.

I open my mouth to apologize to Roxto for how stupid I've been, but I'm cut off my a kiss.

No talking...just us and Eywa's way. Only, us.

I nod my head.

"Oel ngati kameie, Roxto"

"Oel ngati kameie, My love"

[marierg]

Of Light and Darkness: Ch. 19

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi X Reader (not here today)

WARNINGS!:  Angst, anxiety, Language, guilt.  Lets face it Our Girl has more issues than Time Magazine.  But nothing major.

A/N: This is more of an Anakin centered chapter. Mostly looking at how the two of them get along and how he learns about the many layers that make up Y/n.  I may have had a Brando esk character in mind when I was writing Maffa, but really it falls back to one of my uncles who used to race on the weekends. 

PS- I am not a Star Wars mechanical expert so most of this is based on Automotive mechanics.

Picture Credit: Pinterest

Word Count: 2200

Masterlist Next Part

“Oh… this is not good.”  Anakin Skywalker groaned as he turned to face the two thugs who had closed in behind him.

“Ok little punk you’re commin with us.”  The large klatooinians grabbed ahold, lifting him from the ground and carrying his smaller form into the Bar. 

Anakin had no choice but to comply, at least he would find out where you were being held.  He had taken the cross-town transport to meet you at the hospital in hopes of getting food at the diner.  Master Obi Wan was off world on a research assignment and it was one of your few shifts.  Anakin had arrived at the hospital only to see you being shoved into a speeder by a couple of thugs, thus the situation he was in now.  Entering the dark, smoky den he could see drunks pawing at the twi’lek dancers on the stage, death stick dealers plying their trade, and the band played loudly enough to cause his head to ache.  “Where did you take Master Y/n you skugholes! Put me down or I’ll…”

“Well what have we here little Y/n, a minion all your own I see?”  an older looking Keeterian chuckled from the corner.

“Yes, a very disobedient one at that.”  You raised an eyebrow at your surprised looking Padawan.  “Hey Mumbo… Jumbo could you put my apprentice down please.  Seriously Sweets these goons of yours have no manners.”

Sweet Maffa laughed heartily then coughed hard enough to crack his ribs, huffing to catch his breath.  “Well they aren’t hired… to be nice now ….are they?”

Positioning the older being forward you placed a mask over him to add supplemental oxygen, “Easy now, breathe easy.  There nice and deep.”

“Uh… Master are you alright?”  Anakin straightened his tabards and walked over to your side.  A medical bag was open, it appeared you were mid exam on this Sweets person, and Anakin was still deeply confused.

Sensing the kid needed further direction you turned to the young man.  “Anakin would you hand me the med scanner there.”

He watched as you drew a blood sample and placed it on the device, muttering under your breath.  Looking around at the goons in the room he concluded that Sweets was the boss.  Having lived on Tatooine he was used to seeing his fair share of gangsters, but how was it his Master was on a first name basis with one?

“He looks like quite the toughie to me,” Maffa grinned, “So Anakin what’ll you have to drink?  I have some excellent fresh Citimantix juice, better than anything you’ll find in that temple.”

Anakin saw you grin and shake your head that it was fine.  “Yes please, if that’s alright?”

“Anakin meet Sweet Maffa, King of the lower levels, fastest speeder pilot in the Quadrant, and purveyor of this fine establishment.”  You introduced them with a waive.  “Sweets this is Anakin Skywalker my Padawan.  You know he used to race pods.”

“REALLY!  Well that is something now innit?”  It was clear to you that Anakin’s stock had just gone up in Sweets book.

“Built it myself too.”  Anakin relaxed considerably seeing that you were clearly not in danger here.

Turning to look at the boy Sweets scratched his chin appraisingly.  “Talk to me son, what was she built of?  How did she ride?”

The two talked for thirty minutes straight just about the carb injectors and torque specifications.  You sipped at your beverage enjoying the fact that Anakin was clearly comfortable and in his element.  Maffa was an old friend of your late Master, he kept the peace on the lower levels.  Not that he was an angel by any means and you never asked for details when he called for a favor.  There was simply a long standing and unspoken deal between him and your master that you carried on, as long as the innocent were never involved you would come when called.

  It was Maffa who kept the slave trafficking off world, he had a bone to pick with that particular breed of skughole.  His sister had been kidnapped, sold and well… there was a reason that he, not the law, made that particular trade difficult on Coruscant.  It was Maffa’s sister that had once begged Master Melri to come and help her brother after a particularly bad fly by.  He had been shot and hospitals asked questions that were better left unanswered.  In todays particular case though he had caught pneumonia and was fairly ill. 

“Sweets you need to go home and rest.  I can give you a script for antibiotics and am recommending vape treatments four to six times daily till this passes.”  Peering over the top of the med scanner you blew a hair out of your face.

“Oh Come now little Y/n, a man has business to attend to.”  He was putting up a disappointed tone but you knew he would follow your orders.

“Yes but how can a man attend his business from the grave?”

“Oh alright alright,” coughing again you pulled a vape out of your pack and handed it too him.  Puffing it slowly his breathing evened, “Healers orders I suppose.”

“That’s right.  Yo Muggsy and Buggsy you best take good care of this fella or you got me to deal with.”  Packing your things you collected Anakin from where he was looking over speeder diagrams.

“Here Mr. Sweets I made a few modifications I think will work better,” Handing over the pad Maffa chuckled and ruffled his hair.  Anakin found that he liked the gangster, at least he had excellent taste.

“I’ll let you know how they tune little speedster.  You both take care now.”

“We will, and I’ll be back in a day or two to check on you.” Giving him a cheeky wink as you walked out. 

After making it back to the turbo shaft both you and Anakin silently walked to the express stop.  Anakin could tell that you were tense.  Arriving back to your domicile he was pointed to the dinner table.  The blank look on his Master’s face should be worrying, but instead of anger Anakin sensed sadness and maybe regret.  Raising his eyes slowly Anakin decided to break the ice first, “I’m sorry Master I should have called…”

You raised your hand stopping him mid sentence.  “No Anakin I…Should have called you.  I’m sorry that you got roughed up.”

“Are you mad?”

“No no no, I’m upset with myself,”  Sighing you ran a hand around the back of your neck.  “I sometimes play a little fast and loose with the rules to help friends.  You shouldn’t have been pulled in.  As your Master it’s my duty to be an example and I have done a rather poor job.”

“You were helping him as a Healer, why would that be bad.”

Chuckling low in your throat you smiled wistfully.  “It’s something I do off the books and could reflect poorly on the Order.  I have to be careful when I do these things so that others won’t suffer my consequences.”

“Like Obi Wan and me.” His tone was less worried now and more inquisitive.

You nodded, “exactly.”

Moving around the kitchen island you began pulling out sandwich makings and brought dinner around to the boy, having cut off the dry crusts that he didn't like.  Anakin thought the whole encounter over again, from when he had seen you get into the speeder to when you were talking with Sweets.  “You’ve been taking care of them for a long time haven’t you?”

You nodded over your Kaf cup.  “An old promise…so to speak.”

“Obi Wan doesn’t know does he?”  Seeing you nod again Anakin thought this over further.  Why would his Master keep these secrets?  How had she gotten involved?

“What?”  You could clearly see the gears turning over in the young mans head.

“Oh nothing..” 

 “Spit it out Ani-man I don’t read minds.”  You raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Can I go with you when you go to see Mr. Sweets next?”

Oh no what was this kid up to?  Squinting suspiciously at your Padawan you folded your hands meditatively.  “Yes you may. However, I have already told Maffa that if I ever catch you in a racing pit again that there would be Hell to pay, so don't even think of it.”

Smiling innocently Anakin replied lightly, too lightly.  “Master I wouldn’t dream of racing speeders.”

“Bantha Shit.”  You shot back, “Anakin I want you to listen to me very carefully, you only have one life to live.  I’ve buried too many friends and family over the years, don’t make me burry you too.”

"But I can still look at the Speeders right?"

Shooting the kid a very unamused glance you had to think your reply over carefully, "Look, tinker, wash. But NOT behind the wheel."

 Bowing his head Anakin focused on his sandwich again.  After dinner Anakin walked to his workbench and found himself deep in thought.  Twirling a servo driver lightly through his fingers his mind went to work piecing together what his did know about you.  He knew that you were a healer from a line of them, that you were fearsome in a fight, that you broke electronics constantly (not that he minded fixing them), and that you were kind.  He could also surmise that since Sweets called you Little Y/n that he had known you when you were younger.  As Anakin twirled the driver faster he almost missed the knock on the door.  Looking up he peered at your face in the frame. “Yes Master Y/n?”

“Just coming to see if you’d gone to bed yet,” you folded your arms guiltily and sighed, “Sorry again about those goons.”

  “I’m ok, Jabba’s guys were way worse.”  Anakin smiled.  Deciding that he may as well ask what he really wanted to know, he cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to the floor.  “Master I was just wondering something.”

            Pulling up a chair and plopping down you took an appraising look at the kid.  All in all he had handled the situation very well, probably better than you the first time your own Master introduced you to Maffa.  “Had a feeling, fire away.”

“So you had a Master before Master Windu.  Were they friends with Maffa?”

Feeling the familiar pang and grimacing you were uncertain how best to tell Anakin about your late Master.  Deciding to take an easy out you kept the answer short. “Yes.”

“And she’s the one in the Holo you keep in your office?”  he pressed forward hesitantly.

                Your own eyes shifted to the ground, again you felt ashamed of yourself.  You rarely spoke of Master Melri preferring to avoid the pain of the past, but in doing so you failed to pass on her wisdom and lessons.  The holo, which was kept in a special place next to her kaf mug, was taken on an early if not your earliest RRC mission.  The two of you smiled and your master was giving you tooka ears as the pilot took the shot.  “Yes, that Holo is of me and Master Melri.”

Hearing the low tone Anakin decided that was enough questions for today.  “She seems Wizard.”

“That she was kid,” unable to keep the grin away you gave a low chuckle, “She would have liked you.”

Anakin smiled putting the driver down, “ I think I would have liked her too.”

“Hey you need to head to bed, got early republic history with Master Nu in the morning.”  Standing and striding over you pushed his chair towards the bed.  “Try to get some rest.”

“Yes Master Y/n.”  Anakin watched as you smiled and put out the light.  Staring at the ceiling the young man couldn’t help thinking over the conundrum that was the lineage he now belonged to. 

“Mr. Sweets how did you meet Master Y/n?”  Anakin was hanging over the top of a speeder hood while Maffa watched him do some modifications.  The two of you had come back to check in on the Boss as promised, you had just dashed down to Sweets office to call in a consult while Anakin tinkered. 

Maffa chuckled turning to the young man.  “Well what does she say?”

“She…gets sad, so I don’t really ask.”  Anakin started connecting the new wires into the turbo. 

“Well I don’t want to talk about a friend in absence, but she was about your age when we met.”  Thinking back on it he smiled again.  “Melri, your master’s master, had rushed down to help me with a …problem.  Little Y/n had tagged along, you know she held my hand so I wouldn’t be scared.  She’s a sweet girl that Y/n, so was Melri.  You should take good care of her.”

“Of course.” Anakin was indignant, then a thought crept in.  “She isn’t sick is she?”

“No no no, just people like that only come round so often.  You should take good care of them, they’ll give their all till…”

“Till they cant.” Anakin answered lowering the hood and handing Sweets the keys.  He thought of his mom who had often gone without so he could have something just to eat.  Anakin also thought about Qui Gon and how he’d given his life to protect the galaxy. 

“Folks like Y/n, they’ll fight to the last.”  Sighing the old gangster swallowed thickly, “and when you’re the last no one’s there to look after ya.”

@meshlasolus @nurseytypechick @a-rose-of-amber @just-dreaming-marvel @stanny-uwu @songoficecreamandfireworks @aquaamethyst96 @iambored24601 @obiknights @pickleprickle @acatalystrising @purplepandora666 @in-a-mellow-tone @lovelyxmaggs @misscamptl @ginger-swag-rapunzel @the-going-merry

[amethystconstellation]

Shunsui Birthday Blurb

Okay so this is the first time I’m writing something like this. If you have any tips for me to get better, please let me know in the comments or message me. I want to get better at writing in the story sense just so I can write some nice things for myself. (Like I love the black reader tags with all my heart and soul but I really need some fluff right now 😅 So if I get better at this, I’ll start writing some fluff soon).

So of course my inspiration comes from the fact that Bleach, one of my fave anime shows from when I was a kid, returns and I get to see the love of my life Shunsui again.

You know it’s funny. When I was a kid, I always liked Shunsui. He was funny and laidback and him and Jushiro were the best friend dynamic I always loved. But I also thought he was super cool and really intuitive because he was really good and looking deeper into situations and because of how he presented himself outwardly, people would think he’s assuming and he would use that to his advantage. BUT he was still a captain and was mentored by Yamamoto so everyone new there was something special about him. And he was always like a teddy bear to me because he did show a lot of care and considerations to others as time went on.

And now that I’m older, that just morphed into him turning into my man my man my man because well…. HE’S GREAT! I don’t know what to tell you.

Now with TYBW coming back, we get to see more of his character and how he thinks because he was made soutaicho. I also want to do like my own head cannon deep dives into his character because he’s really just an overall interesting character. That’s what these little blurbs are for. It’s going to be out of order because TYBW is ongoing and I’m able to keep up with it easier than the old series (which I’m rewatching right now) if that makes sense.

Also I am going to write in his perspective. If there is any instance where I accidentally mess that up in the writing, please let me know.

And I’m going to be mainly basing this off the anime, I am going to read/re-read TYBW and update these when I have the chance and time but right everything is anime based.

But yeah. Sorry for being long winded. Here’s my writing below under the read more button. I hope you guys like it too.

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

TYBW Ep 1: The Blood Warfare

Warnings: Anime spoilers but other than that none. Again if I missed

something let me know! 🙏🏾

Something’s off with the air today but what? I don’t know.

I’m sitting and drinking some sake looking out the window from my office. Well, more like nursing it really. I haven’t drank much of it because today just doesn’t feel right to me.

On the Karakura side of things, everything seems fine. The usual hollow appears, we send Soul Reapers to handle the problem. But if push comes to show, we have them and, most importantly, him on our side to help.

Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends, Orihime Inoue, Yasutora Sado, and Uryu Ishida.

He’s one interesting child alright. He’s got us out of tighter spots with dealing with everything that’s happened.

So much has happened since Rukia has met.

It feels like it was just yesterday that he ran in here with his friends to save her from execution and then everything happened so fast.

Aizen, Tousen, and Gin, to a major extent, were revealed as traitors. The Bounts emerged again along with Ran’Thao and ultimately became extinct. The arrancars and thus Aizen returning. The Fullbringers. Kisuke returning to clear his name and the downfall of Aizen’s plan.

We’re lucky to have him help. It’s unfortunate he’s so young. Not just in soul years (?) but just in general human years as well.

I have a feeling that fate is not done with Jim’s and his friends yet but we’ll have his back. Besides knowing him, he’ll want to help even willing to risk his life in the process.

But something weird is going on here. Whole communities in the Rukon district have been disappearing without a trace. The latest incident being in Sabitsura, the West 64 District in Rukon Ikkaku and Yumichika, the 3rd and 5th seat of Squad 11 are there now helping with the investigation.

I wonder if they’ll find something in this dis—

“Hm?”

Someone’s spiritual pressure disappeared just now. I have a bad felling about this—

Someone else’s spiritual pressure is gone…

…..It was Lieutenant Sasakibe’s. I knew something was wrong with today.

It’s only a matter of time before Old Man Yama calls the captains together again.

“Captain Kyoraku.” Nanao’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Oh, Nanao. Haha. Looks like you found me. What is it?”

She furrowed her brows and I can see the worry and stress in her face.

After a brief pause, she finally tells me, “Soutaicho Yamamoto has called for an emergency Captains’ meeting and has asked for all Captains to report to him immediately.”

I stand up and put on my Sugegasa hat to get ready to head to Old Man Yama and the others.

“Okay. I’ll head over immediately.”

Walking out the door and heading to the meeting place, I can’t help but wonder.

How bad is this going to be?

I should’ve known that peace in the Seireitei would be fleeting and would only last for so long.

With a deep sigh, I said to myself, “I guess it’s time to go back to work.”

[whispersafterdusk]

Heart of Stone - ch 11

At an appropriate time Unsuur walked over to Dawn's and found her in her yard sitting at her workbench (the actual one and not the makeshift table, though he could see that one sitting over by her furnaces stacked high with ore, scrap, and bronze bars). A notebook, a few scattered pencils, and a considerable pile of copper screws were on the bench in front of her. Her left hand was resting on its side, fingers slightly curled, providing a back stop for the screws she was deftly flicking at her palm with her other hand two at a time until she reached ten, where she then used the back of her left hand to sweep them off the edge of the bench and down into a bucket at her feet.

He waited for her to reach ten before speaking. "Hey there." ((Continued below cut))

"Hello! One moment..." The next cluster of screws plunked down into the bucket; she fumbled for one of the pencils and scribbled something down on the notebook before standing. "Let me just grab something from inside then I'm ready to go."

Unsuur leaned against the fence to wait. He'd been varying levels of anxious all day -- an ever-present feeling like an insect buzzing around his head; now that the time was here he didn't feel too buzzy (thankfully) but there was something else mingling with it that he couldn't quite put his finger on...

Dawn came back out of the house with a rolled up bundle of something under an arm and her canteen hanging at her side from a shoulder strap. "Ok, ready -- where are we going?"

"It's not far. What's that?" he asked, looking at the bundle. It was thick fabric of some kind...a blanket?

"Something to sit on and, depending on how late we stay out, something to wrap up in if it gets too cold," she answered.

A blanket then. "Good thinking. The padding will help since the ground is pretty hard, and I only have one jacket with me." She laughed at that, wiping out the remaining nervousness with that oh-so-familiar warm feeling - maybe he wouldn't even need his jacket - leaving the other unnamed emotion just beneath the surface; it was a quiet enough feeling as to not be distracting (so far, anyway).

They headed along the tracks, down the path and across the wooden bridge, and over to a spot that he'd brushed clear earlier. Dawn unrolled the bundle and shook out one of the two quilts she'd brought, folding it in half and laying it out for them to sit on; the other she rolled back up and set behind her, and left the canteen sitting between them.

Unsuur scooted forward just enough to comfortably sit with his feet off the edge of the quilt; though he mentally acknowledged that it was already sitting on the ground, in the dirt, he still didn't want to muck the fabric up with his boots. "Did you get to talk to Matilda?"

"I did, and it actually went better than I'd expected. She's willing to let me purchase land on a sort of credit."

"That's good...right?"

With a happy little hum she slipped her boots off and set them to the side then pulled her knees up to her chest, crossing her arms across their top. "It is! I explained how I needed somewhere to assemble and store the trusses until the bridge base was ready and she said I could buy some of the land around the workshop and pay it off in installments, so once I get everything made I can start drawing up an addition to the house. Bare minimum I'm adding on a bedroom but I may also add on a room for my jewelry making. It'd be nice to keep extra dust and whatnot out of my tools, plus it would be more secure to store my materials and creations inside just in case a tourist gets any ideas. ...it's odd to think about, really -- er...the - the 'buying land' thing, not thievery. It's the most set-in-stone thing I've done since I ran away to school. --uh..."

As she spoke she'd been practically glowing in excitement and in the setting sun's light her hair and eyes shone brightly, and her grin was so wide and earnest and it sparked a bubbly happiness inside him too; he'd glanced away about halfway through so he'd stay focused on her words and keep from losing himself in that smile but as she stopped at the mention of 'ran away' his attention snapped back to her immediately.

"Um...forget I said that last part - I-I want to look forward to the future not retread the past. My contract here is only for three years but buying land feels, um, feels permanent, you know?" she stammered.

He thought back to the day he'd seen her on the train platform, when he'd thought she was already leaving. That had been before he'd gotten his crush on her or had any reason to consider builder contracts and the fact that they eventually ended - a worrisome thought, but, if she was going to own land here... "Were you not planning to stay beyond your contract?"

She plunked her chin down on her arm, staring out at the distant mountain and shielding her eyes with a hand. "Before today I don't think I would've had an answer to that. I've spent the last several years hardly able to plan out further than a month or a semester at most... Owning land and building something on it that's solely for me? That was..it was something that felt out of reach until now. Now I guess it's like saying, 'hey world, I'm here to stay.'"

Phew. "I'm glad you chose us. A lot of people don't like Sandrock but I'd say it's pretty much the same as anywhere else, just with more sand."

She snorted and started laughing, shifting to rest her cheek against her arm, facing him. "Have you traveled a lot?"

"I guess. It's more my family moves around a lot. I'm not actually sure where they are most of the time -- they send letters every month but by the time the letter reaches me and I write one back they've usually moved on. I've gotten a lot of my letters returned to me unable to be delivered but that's all right, so long as I keep getting theirs I know they're ok. They weren't too thrilled when I struck out on my own either -- I only ended up in Sandrock because I got lost in the desert while trying to walk to Atara."

"I can't imagine walking to Atara, from here or anywhere else... I thought the train ride took long enough," Dawn mused. "Why'd you choose to stay here?"

"When I arrived I saw the sheriff was hiring. Justice hired me on the spot and said one day, if I worked hard, I could make deputy. It seemed as good a dream as any. I've yet to be told how that's done though."

Something snuck into her smile then; it was a subtle change and he couldn't figure out what it meant. "Well... I think it's a good dream," she said softly, turning to gaze toward the mountains again. "And I'm positive you'll achieve it."

That did not help or give anything away about that smile but the encouragement was touching...seemed like it wouldn't be just his family who'd be proud of him if he made deputy and he felt a heat creeping into his face. "Thanks."

The sky was shifting to pinks and purples as the sun dipped almost below the horizon with the breeze starting to pick up as the air cooled; the stars would be visible soon and the moon would rise, bringing with them a new view to appreciate.

"You were right...this IS nice," Dawn murmured beside him, pulling his attention back to her. "Sandrock really is pretty."

Her eyes were still on the mountain; Unsuur admired how the remaining light turned her silhouette soft, like a painting -- she looked so serene and was so... "Yeah...really pretty." As the words left his mouth he felt his nerves stirring again.

Or...maybe it wasn't the anxiety coming back, exactly, but more a... Longing. Yeah, that might be a better way to describe it. Maybe this was his heart's way of telling him waiting was not the right answer, but then, was now the right time?

She let out a soft noise then, something between a sigh and a giggle, and reached to pull her boots back on; he forced his feelings down and took that as a sign she was ready to head back home and prepared to stand up, but after she'd tied the laces she used her hands to lift her backside up and slid further down on the quilt before laying flat on her back. Her upper half was on the fabric, her lower on the bare stone, and after a second or two she reached up to move the spare quilt further away from where her head lay (but still on the one they were sitting on) then slipped her hands behind her neck and stared up into the sky. "Back in Atara there was an observatory on the outskirts of town - it was technically part of the university's astronomy program - and it would allow non-student visitors on some evenings...never had the time to go myself but I'd hear about others getting to see shooting stars and sometimes Emile would bring me printed postcards of starscapes and whatnot. Wonder what they'd think of Sandrock's skies...the sky in Atara isn't nearly this clear."

"Sandrock has either clear skies or sandstorms, there's not much in between unless it rains and that doesn't happen very often." While speaking Unsuur stretched out too; it felt like he was closer to her physically now -- something about laying down felt a little more intimate, even though he hadn't actually moved any nearer or further away than when they'd been sitting up. Briefly he put his hands behind his neck too but they still hurt too much for that to be comfortable so he settled for resting his head on his uninjured forearm; his free hand drifted down beside him with his fingertips brushing against the canteen, and he pictured them slipping around Dawn's hand instead... They were close enough he could do that, if her hands weren't behind her head, and that feeling of longing grew a bit deeper.

"I'm actually curious what it looks like around here after it rains," she giggled. "Is it a lot of rain? Does it flood in town because the ground is so hard?" As she spoke she rolled up on her side toward him, scooting her hips back a bit to avoid laying on top of the canteen and bracing her elbow on the ground to prop herself up.

"I love the rain, and I think you will too. Every plant that can flower does and for a day or two everything is colorful and smells great. Also when it rains everyone collects as much of it as they can but even if they weren't doing that we don't get enough rainfall for flooding to be a concern." Her position change put her hand out of reach; he shifted to gently fold his hands across his stomach instead.

"Sounds wonderful..." she sighed. "That might be the only thing I miss about Highwind: the scenery."

"What about traveling back to visit?" he asked. "Does that friend that sends you the coffee still live in Highwind?"

She nodded. "Nia, and...while I'd like to visit her I doubt I will so long as she lives there still. I don't want to run into my family - I would honestly rather kiss a cactus than have to deal with them again."

"I can think of a lot of things I'd rather kiss than a cactus, and I don't think Fang would be too happy with you if you did. Cactus spines are hard to get out of your skin." Don't think about the kiss, don't think about kissing her...

She grinned and rolled onto her back again, throwing one arm over her eyes while the other patted toward a pocket; out of that pocket came the little pocket watch she carried, which she peeked at from behind her arm then sighed heavily. "I should probably get to bed early... Rocky has his crew sourcing steel scrap for me and once they locate enough of it I'll be able to actually start making the trusses. ...and I have all those screws and rivets to finish counting in the meantime," she added after a moment, tone sour.

He had to smile at the equally sour look on her face as she sat up. "Don't be intimidated, counting things is actually easy once you get the hang of it. I've discovered that one out of every thousand sand grains is white and shiny by counting them. I also tried counting blades of grass but there's so many, and I started forgetting which ones I'd already counted."

The sour look disappeared in a fit of giggles as she collected the canteen and spare quilt; after they were both back on their feet Unsuur picked up the other quilt, shook the dirt loose, and folded it loosely over an arm. Together they walked back the way they'd come, easily able to make their way by the moon above; under the moonlight Dawn's hair was more of a wine color and Unsuur caught himself wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. Probably a lot better than sand, and he bet it smelled nice, and--

You made it this long, don't let your brain run off on you now. "If there's anything I can help with, just ask. Even if it's just helping count things or keeping you company," he said, dropping his gaze to the quilt on his arm -- he could think about how blue it was, instead of red hair. "You're working to save Sandrock again and I don't want to stand around while you push yourself so hard a second time."

Her fingers brushed the entire length of his arm from elbow to fingertips as she took the quilt from him, and maybe he was imagining it but he thought she lingered a bit as their hands touched; between her touch and the night air hitting his skin he felt goosebumps forming. It was a nice, blue quilt...

"--hopefully," she was saying. "If I need extra muscle or fingers to count on I'll let you know."

Woops. He'd thought about the color blue a little too much and missed most of what she'd said; looking up from the quilt he met her gaze. She was smiling so tenderly at him...

"Sleep well," he said softly.

"You too. And, thank you for tonight. I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"Anytime you want. I know a LOT of great places."

Dawn closed her eyes for a moment, still smiling, then turned to head through her gate. "Guess you'll have to find time to show them all to me," she called over a shoulder.

That sent a little quiver through him and he sucked in his breath -- he was going to need to scout out as many nice, new places to sit as possible.

He waited until she'd gone inside before he started home; halfway there he'd shoved his hands into his pockets and found the folded up notice for the fireside meeting. Oops. Normally he didn't feel too bad about missing them from time to time but considering their bridge problem both he AND Dawn probably should've been there tonight. Not much they could do about it now as he could tell the square was empty and most of Sandrock's lights (aside from the saloon's) were already off. If there was anything really important he needed to know Justice would probably tell him.

(He'd had a way, way better time tonight anyway)

On a whim born out of knowing he wasn't tired enough to sleep just yet he kept walking passed the Corps building and his house and went down the tracks to have a look at what was left of Shonash Bridge from this side of the canyon. There were already signs of construction in place -- a few pallets of bricks, a pile of dirt filler, and most of the remaining track and the gravel under it had been pulled up and set aside. Unsuur let himself walk as far as the pallets before stopping and looking around; it was hard to believe the bridge was gone, and he could still hear the awful sound of it collapsing in his mind...that was going to take awhile to forget, if one could even forget something like that.

Pen hadn't found where the geeglers had run off to so Justice was operating under the assumption that they'd left this region of the Eufala; Unsuur certainly hoped so. They'd threatened and harmed enough people he cared about -- if he never saw one again he wouldn't shed any tears. ...and now he was thinking about how cool it had been when Dawn had walloped that one down in the Breach. She didn't like revolver and wasn't experienced with the sword but she'd handled that pickhammer like an extension of herself...maybe he should suggest some kind of hammer as her weapon of choice (he was thinking "weaponized pickhammer" but that seemed silly - it was already pretty deadly even if it wasn't considered a weapon). The only downside was Justice was way more experienced with hammers than Unsuur was so it would be better for him to provide the lessons. Still...he supposed Dawn being able to protect herself when he wasn't around was the goal so ultimately it shouldn't matter who taught her.

Unsuur turned to head back home and stumbled a little in the remaining loose gravel, his foot slipping down into an opening between the railroad ties; he managed to avoid twisting his ankle and once he'd regained his footing he used the side of his foot to shovel the gravel back into place -- once he'd gotten a sizeable pile into the gap he could stomp it down and hopefully prevent anyone else from tripping in this spot.

As he lifted his foot to start pressing the stones into place a glint caught his eye. Unsuur squatted and brushed his fingers across the gravel and then came back up with a...

Wow.

Wow.

It fit in the palm of his hand and was amazingly smooth to the touch, and as he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away some of the dried dirt clinging to it he uncovered a shiny white luster with a few darker wisps of color threaded through it.

It was a rock, shaped like a heart.

It was perfect. He'd found it. He'd found it.

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

As soon as he got home he'd shown Wilson, then slept with the stone sitting on the nightstand beside his bed (beside his head?). When he woke he stretched and, in a break of routine, laid there on his side staring at it instead of immediately getting up.

When he finally did get out of bed he had to rush around a little bit to avoid being late to start his patrols but the sheer excitement of having finally found the perfect replacement for that dang heart knot propelled him through a shower and breakfast in record speed.

It's not holding me back anymore. That mental hurdle was completely gone -- replaced by a rush of anticipation. All he needed now was the right moment and that was something he could actually plan out ahead of time (though if he saw such a moment come prior to the plan then he could jump on it, and he'd still have something nice planned anyway! Win-win!)

The right moment would probably be some time after Dawn had finished her part of the bridge construction; Sandrock was counting on her again and she'd probably be tired and stressed throughout the whole process -- it didn't feel ideal to give her the stone heart in the middle of a crisis. He would support her in any way he could, plan out a relaxing evening of some kind (another sunset show? Or maybe dinner, on story night? She'd loved the former and had said before she wanted to attend the latter) and offer the heart to her then, and see what happened. There WAS the tiniest fear of rejection but...after everything so far Unsuur was pretty certain she liked him as much as he liked her; the fear was likely just a natural part of a crush - anyone would be afraid of taking such a leap...probably.

He practically glided through his morning and lunch time rolled around; aside from helping Elsie wrangle a yakmel that had tried to jump the fence his patrol had been uneventful. As he was heading up the steps to his house Justice came out of the Civil Corps building, spotted him, and waved him over.

"Anything to report?"

"Only a jumping yakmel," Unsuur answered.

Justice nodded. "Good... Not expecting too much trouble with the geeglers gone and the bridge out -- which means Sandrock can handle itself for a bit tomorrow morning. 9 o'clock sharp at Martle's Square I'm going to hold the Deputy Promotion Ceremony and I expect you there."

...deputy...promotion...ceremony? Really? Was it... "Right. I'll be there."

"See ya in the morning," Justice chuckled, heading off toward city hall.

Deputy promotion... Was he finally making dep-- hang on a second. Suddenly that unknowable smile last night made sense: Justice must have told Dawn first that he was going to name someone deputy. No wonder she was so certain he'd achieve it.

Man... Between finding the heart rock and now this, this was turning into the best week ever.

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

The next morning, just before 9, Unsuur headed toward the square. He had the rock heart in his pocket, partly for luck and partly just in case, and was pleased to see both Mi-an and Dawn standing at the base of the steps that led up into city hall. Justice was waiting at the top of the steps and as Unsuur walked up to stand beside Dawn he cleared his throat.

"Alright, now that everyone is here, let the official Civil Corps Deputy Promotion Ceremony begin!"

Movement in his periphery drew his attention down to Dawn, finding her smiling brightly up at him; when he returned the smile she gently nudged her shoulder against his arm then turned back to Justice.

"-Sandrock wouldn't be the safe and secure place it is here today!" Justice went on.

He'd missed the first bit during that little interaction so Unsuur tried to refocus on the speech -- it would be awfully embarrassing to miss having his name called.

"Nevertheless, there is still one who stands out among the rest... One whose tireless dedication to law and order has earned them the right to call themselves... Deputy of the Sandrock Civil Corps!"

On Dawn's other side Mi-an clasped her hands in front of her, almost wiggling in place as she whispered to Dawn "Wow! I don't know why but I'm really nervous all of a sudden! You don't think he's going to pick one of us, do you? I mean, I know we're just Builders but-"

Could a builder be a deputy? Would they even have the time to fill both roles? Sounded like a lot of work, plus neither of them were in the Civil Corps so he wasn't sure why Mi-an was worried.

"Now, heh heh, I don't mean to tantalize you all. I'm sure you're on the tip of your toes wondering who I've chosen to be my deputy, so without further ado: our next deputy is known not for brute strength but nimbleness! And wisdom!"

Interesting. Wise wasn't a word Unsuur (or anyone else) had ever used to describe himself. Maybe he'd been missing out.

"Our deputy brings a uniqueness to the team, and fills in the gaps in our Corps skill set with raw, individual talent."

Again he heard Mi-an whispering to Dawn, wondering if Justice was talking about her. Mi-an did seem pretty wise at times, but, again, not a Corps member.

"-with flowing black hair that shimmers in the sunlight as they dish out hearty, heaping helpings of justice with elegance and finesse!"

...not too sure about that one. Black hair didn't really seem shimmer material -- now, Dawn's coppery red? That sure did shimmer. It even shined. He glanced at it just to be sure and yep, it was bright and shimmery and he still wanted to run his fingers through it.

As Unsuur dragged his attention away from her hair and back to the sheriff Justice paused and raised a hand that held a brown leather hat with a deputy's star; Unsuur heard Mi-an suck in a loud breath, and again Dawn gently nudged herself against him.

"Let's give it up for our next deputy: Captain Caaaaaaat!"

...what.

"What the? The cat?!" Mi-an gasped.

Beside him Dawn had gone as still and stiff as a board, staring up at Justice with her mouth hanging open in shock.

Captain (he hadn't even noticed the cat's presence until now) hopped up the steps and Justice placed the hat on the feline's head. The cat meowed loudly, pawed the hat crooked, then sat and began grooming himself.

"Captain, or should I say Deputy Captain, has not only been diligent in patrol work, but this year's mice incidents have fallen to an all-time low. Yes, there really is no question that Captain is the most deserving of this title."

A cat. Had been made deputy. Over him. Suddenly, the week didn't seem like the best one ever. As he let his gaze drop to the ground he felt hands encircling his arm - one high on his bicep, one just above his wrist, and he looked up just enough to see Dawn's apologetic and worried look. "I thought I caught the most mice..." he said, trying to force a smile.

"One more time, a round of applause for our new deputy!"

"I'm so embarrassed! But congrats!" Mi-an mumbled. A breath later she turned to scurry away, rushing for the stairs to head back to her workshop, leaving Dawn and Unsuur standing together in the square.

Captain continued to groom himself as Justice walked down the steps over to them, settling a hand on Unsuur's shoulder opposite Dawn.

"Sorry pal. It just wasn't your time." Unsuur opened his mouth to say something but Justice's attention quickly moved from him to Dawn. "And you, Dawn -- sorry if I made it seem like I was gonna make you or Mi-an deputy. I wasn't trying to yank your chain or nothing but, you and Mi-an are honorary members of the Civil Corps regardless, and I thank you for all your current and future efforts toward the betterment of Sandrock and all its people."

Unsuur had fixed his gaze on a point on the wall over Justice's shoulder as he spoke; he could see, at the edge of his vision, Justice's smile falter then fade completely.

"Ahem, well, best get back to it. Good, uh, have a good day you two."

With that Justice quickly moved around them and headed back toward the Corps building (or at least that's what Unsuur assumed -- he was still looking ahead at the wall).

Lost out to Captain...he really wished he knew what he needed to know, or do, or be, to become deputy. What did Captain have that Unsuur didn't? What-

"How freaking dare he..." Dawn growled beside him.

He tore his eyes away from the wall. "It's ok. I'm happy my friend got promoted. Justice told me he pushed that button real good-"

"It is NOT ok!" she insisted, moving to stand in front of him. One hand remained on his arm and the other gently poked a finger into his chest. "YOU should have been made deputy, not a damned cat! I don't care how many mice he's caught, he's a cat! An intelligent one but he isn't even of the talking mutant variety! How could Justice do that...elevating a...a house cat over you?"

"Captain doesn't have a house but I think he likes sleeping in the sheriff's."

She let out an annoyed huff, tipping her face back to the sky a moment before looking back to Unsuur. "He's lucky I'm too short to properly strangle him... Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No, I skipped it today." Too excited to feel hungry before but now all he felt was disappointed. "Please don't strangle Justice - I'd feel awkward arresting you for assault."

"I wasn't being serious. ...mostly. Come on-"

He blinked as she took him by the hand and tugged him after her down the street; he was sort of aware of how his hand still hurt even in her gentle grasp.

But, she was holding his hand. VERY aware of that, and he marveled a bit at the size difference between their hands too.

...right, she was pulling him along. He should start walking with her so she wouldn't think he didn't want to go (and let's face it - he'd go anywhere she wanted to). "Where are we headed?" he asked, matching his stride to hers so she was beside him rather than partially in front of him.

"Blue Moon - I still want to beat Justice senseless with the dang hat he asked me to make but the least I can do for you is treat you to breakfast."

"You don't have to."

She shrugged with a smile. "I want to. -- un-unless you have to get on patrol?" At that she slowed to a stop just outside of Owen's front porch, looking up at him questioningly.

He did, but in this exact moment he didn't care. "Our new deputy can handle my route for now," Unsuur answered.

With a roll of her eyes Dawn laughed and started walking again, all the way to the saloon's front doors and then inside. There were unfamiliar faces at some of the tables - an unusual number of tourists considering the bridge was out, maybe they were from some of the surrounding villages instead - but there were two stools next to each other at the bar that were open so that's where Dawn headed, and it wasn't until they were sitting down that she dropped his hand.

They'd just settled in their seats when Owen came out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand and one each balanced on his forearms, and gave them both a nod to acknowledge he'd seen them before heading out to deliver the order; it had been awhile since Unsuur had been in here during the breakfast hours... Scrambled eggs sounded good, maybe with a little bowl of fruit.

(Something that wouldn't cost too much since he doubted he could talk Dawn out of paying for it).

Owen came back around the bar and paused to wipe his hands on a towel before heading over with an easy-going smile. "Hey you two - what can I get you?"

Unsuur gestured for Dawn to order first and Owen's attention shifted to her.

"Just a rice omelet, one pancake, and a glass of sand date milk, please," she answered.

Owen nodded and looked to Unsuur.

"Scrambled egg, and a small bowl of fruit salad."

"That'd be a half order of the fruit then. That all right?" Owen asked.

"That's fine. As long as it's not a lot."

Owen chuckled. "Noted. Drink?"

"Just water is fine."

"All right, be back shortly."

Unsuur watched him disappear back into the kitchen -- he hadn't seen Grace since they'd walked in so he assumed she was in there as well. Hopefully it'd be Owen making Dawn's omelet.

"Not much of a breakfast person?"

Dawn's question brought his gaze back around and he shifted on his stool to angle himself toward her. "Not really. I usually eat light in the mornings so the heat doesn't make me sick later." She looked less annoyed now, which was good. "It also takes less time and fewer dishes to cook a small meal. It's easier to clean up afterward."

She giggled. "I'm not a fan of dishes either but I do like cooking, despite how much I hated it starting out."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Because of your mother?"

"Yep," she replied, tone flat. "But at least cooking is a life skill anyone can and should learn. I hate HOW and WHY I was taught to cook but now I enjoy cooking for myself, and others."

"Is there any dish you like cooking the most?"

He could always tell when she was thinking about something -- that lower lip was between her teeth again. Owen came back with their orders before she'd answered; she made no move to pick up her fork and Unsuur wasn't in any hurry to eat either so he waited as well.

"I'd say...probably this rice porridge recipe that was my grandmother's," she answered then and a wistful smile crept across her face a breath afterward. Finally she reached for her fork and carefully cut into her omelet. "Any time I had to spend the night over at their house we'd have that for breakfast in the morning, and sometimes as dessert after dinner too. She taught me how to make it when I got old enough and it's always been a comfort dish. ...wonder what it'll taste like if I use yakmel milk in it, since that's the only milk I can get here."

Unsuur speared a piece of cantaloupe and popped it into his mouth as Dawn took her first bite of her omelet. His repertoire of recipes was pretty limited...a lot of soups, roasted vegetables, fruits, and he couldn't recall any specific family recipes -- he just ate whatever his parents cooked, and now that he was on his own he stuck to simple things. "It might not be as sweet since yakmel milk is pretty strong.

"Hmm, that's possible. Won't know until I try it I guess...want to be my taste tester?" she asked, flashing him a mischievous grin before taking another bite of omelet.

He could feel the weight of that rock heart in his pocket suddenly. "I'd love to."

She eyed him a moment; Unsuur didn't think his face was giving anything away, but hid himself behind his water glass just to be sure.

"Once I get the trusses done?" she went on.

He swallowed the water and paused to make sure he was composed. "Whenever you want - I'll make time."

With a little hum she went back to eating, and they ate in silence for awhile; he finished off his fruit quickly and purposely paced himself with his eggs so he wouldn't finish before she did. Thankfully focusing on his plate helped temper the rising tide of anticipation and warm fuzzies; that sneaky grin a moment ago had come close to tipping him over into 'give her the heart rock' territory -- maybe not the worst thing he could do right now but he couldn't let over-eagerness potentially ruin the moment.

A change of subject would help. "Has Rocky found the scrap you need?" he asked.

Dawn downed half her glass of the sand date milk before answering. "-not yet. This morning they dropped off what they'd managed to find that was of a high enough quality and I've got that smelting down into something usable, but I'm going to need way more of it."

Unsuur looked to her curiously. "I thought most of the Old World buildings were built with steel and iron?"

She nodded. "They are but not all of it is the right kind to use for this or in a good enough condition to be worth melting down, and there's some areas that were corroded or otherwise ruined by whatever happened in the Calamity. That sort of scrap would be fine for smaller projects but definitely not for a bridge."

That made sense. It would be like choosing the wrong size and shape rock for a stack -- one mistake and it'd all come tumbling down, and the bridge had already tumbled down once so they didn't need a repeat. "I'm sure he'll find what you need. His crew is pretty good at finding things."

"I plan to head down there and help them out after this," she giggled. "Or, well, I will once I've taken my fence down. Heidi will be out sometime later this afternoon to mark my new property boundary."

There it was again - that bright spark of life in her eyes he'd seen the other night when she'd first told him about buying land and building on it; it drew him in, made him smile. Dawn held his gaze for a moment then glanced down into her plate, cheeks going red.

"W-well, anyway, it's going to be a long week," she murmured. She pushed around the last bits of rice on her plate with her fork; the pancake was still untouched. "I hope yours will be less stressful than mine, with the geeglers gone now."

"It should be, though we ARE back to giving the bandit problem our full attention now - the desert is a really big place to search. I'll still get to see you on my patrols though." ...well, that had slipped out.

Laughing, Dawn set her fork down on her plate and nudged it away. "Is that your way of telling me to keep an eye out for you?"

With his face turning red all Unsuur could manage was a quiet 'heh' in response but luckily Owen came over - a timely, if likely unintended, rescue - and Dawn paid the bill, finished her drink, and stood up as Owen grabbed her dishes and headed for the kitchen again.

"I should probably get going, and I don't want you in trouble with Justice either," she sighed, then after a pause smiled gently at him. "I'll see you whenever you pass by."

He felt warm again, whew. "Be careful in the ruins."

She laughed and patted his shoulder as she headed for the door; Unsuur still had eggs on his plate but wasn't inclined to finish them with his stomach doing flips. Owen came back out of the kitchen as he was standing to go and reached out for him.

"Wait a second, Unsuur - got a moment?"

"Sure." Unsuur scooted his stool back in close to the bar and out of the way and waited for Owen to hurry back over.

"Could you come by the saloon later tonight, around dinnertime, and make a quick delivery for me?"

A delivery? "I can do that, but why?"

Owen leaned in toward him, lowering his voice. "With all the work Dawn and Mi-an are going to be putting in for our bridge I feel like the least I can do is keep them fed so they don't have to worry about cooking anything after a full day of work. You're always out that way anyhow -- I'll prepare a few dishes, you can deliver to Dawn and I'll take Mi-an hers."

"That's a good idea, and really nice of you." Plus, it'd give him a reason to stop by her place tonight, and however many nights Owen had something for him to take to her.

"Just trying to help in the only way I can," Owen chuckled. "I'll have it bagged and ready for you."

"Thanks. See ya."

He had to dodge around a small group of people coming in as he left; outside the heat was reaching its peak - the marginally less hot winter season would be here soon enough at least. As he turned to head toward Hammer Time and start his patrol route from there Unsuur slipped a hand into his pocket to rub this fingers over the stone heart...he'd slipped up slightly with that 'I'll get to see you' comment but she'd taken it well. That was encouraging, but he also didn't want anything else slipping out of him again (unless it was the right time - maybe another slip up WOULD be the right time? Who knew...)

Completing one full route put him back at his house and he headed inside and straight to his nightstand where he kept his notebook and pencil. The best way to avoid blurting anything else out again on accident would be to get it out of him first.

Dear Dawn,

Sorry I forgot to sign my last letter. I hope it didn't worry you.

I just wanted to tell you how impressed I was by how you handled those geeglers -- I hear you were very brave, and good with a gun even though you'd never held one before and don't like them.

You're a good builder, and now you're an honorary member of the Civil Corps, is that right? You'd be a very good deputy. Captain did a good job in there too I hear, and he's a good looking cat and all, but you would look way better in the hat.

Sorry, I kinda lied earlier in this letter. I didn't really forget to sign my first letter. I just didn't want to.

Unsuur paused and read it over a few times; short and simple, like the first one. He stood and folded it and went to get an envelope but then saw he didn't have one big enough to hold a letter and a rock of any kind...guess no opals or anything like that in this one. Hmm. If he included a little gift it would need to be...small, or at least fold-able. What did he have...

Oh, wait a moment.

He went over to his closet and threw the doors open, greeted by the sight of all his uniform jackets, spare shirts and pants, and a new pair of boots he'd been meaning to break in but hadn't gotten around to yet -- he didn't need the clothing or jackets at the moment but the boots were sitting on top of a box that held a small collection of belongings he'd never really found a place for. Shoving those aside he flipped the box's lid open and moved aside a few wayward rocks to pull a photo album out, brushing away dust and sand that had come off the rocks and carrying the book to his kitchen table.

It was full of landscape pictures that he'd bought from Arvio about three years ago now. All the colorful pictures and artful framing of Sandrock's vistas and rock formations had caught his eye, and while he suspected Arvio had slightly inflated the price he still purchased it and had kept it on his kitchen counter for awhile, until he'd accidentally knocked a cup of water over onto its cover; even though he'd immediately rushed to dry it off the cover in that spot had wrinkled and warped and, not wanting to risk ruining anything inside the book, he'd stored it away and only took it out periodically to thumb through it and admire the images.

He hunted through the pages for one particular picture: sand dunes painted brilliantly by the setting sun's light, and if he wasn't mistaken this was actually taken from the top of Mt. Rocksand. Dawn had loved the sunset; she was bound to love this and it would fit inside the envelope without him needing to fold it.

After he'd slipped the picture into the envelope he pulled the letter free and opened it flat on his table once more and quickly scribbled an addition to the bottom:

Here's a picture of sand dunes. Maybe you can hang it in your house or something. I'm not your boss or anything, though. You can do whatever you want with it.

He returned the letter to the envelope, sealed it, set his alarm so he wouldn't forget to do it later, and stuck the letter inside the photo album to hide it until tonight, then headed back outside; normally he'd head to the Corps building to see if Justice needed help with anything but since nothing had happened lately Unsuur headed out across the tracks and down near where he and Dawn had sat together to watch the sun set, gathering up rocks as he went. It felt like he was overdue for a nice, relaxing stacking session.

[petedavidsonscock]

There’s four minutes left in the episode of 30 Rock when Holster’s hand, which had been resting on Ransom’s stomach, sneaks under the bottom of Ransom’s shirt, moving a little lower than it had been before. Ransom’s sitting between Holster’s legs, laptop in front of him. They're having a designated study break, because Ransom has a research paper due at midnight tomorrow, and he can’t afford to go fragile-intensive-obsessive-crashing the way he does if he lets himself work for twelve hours straight. So he takes breaks in the form of sitcom watching—“and cuddle time, bro”—every few hours. Now, he has to bite his lip when Holster’s hand starts messing with the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s been way too long—like four days—but he regretfully puts a hand over Holster’s to stop him. 

“Bro,” Ransom says. “I can’t.”

“Because of the essay? C’mon, I’ll be quick.”

Ransom laughs. “Hot.”

“We were gonna watch another episode anyway,” Holster points out. “So we can like… instead.”

Ransom considers. His considerations are mostly: Holster’s hand, still on Ransom’s waistband, thumb stroking Ransom’s bare stomach; his warm, solid presence along Ransom’s back in the chilly air of the attic; the fact that Ransom hasn’t jerked off in two days; and Holster’s dick game, which is kind of incredible, fuck.

Then he thinks about the essay again. Fuck.

“‘Kay, how about this,” Holster says, pausing the episode. “Give me five minutes. If I can get you fully hard by then without touching your dick, then you, like, really need it, and we can fuck. If I can’t, no biggie, we’ll bang after you finish your paper.”

Then you, like, really need it, Ransom’s brain echoes in Holster’s voice. You really need it. You need it. He swallows. 

Five minutes isn’t much time, he reasons. Holster can definitely turn him on in less than five minutes, but fully hard is a lot without actually touching him.

“And not,” Ransom says, voice a little raspy. He clears his throat. “Like, not some bullshit where you blow me but it doesn’t count because it’s not your hand. Or jerk me off through my sweats.”In the momentary silence, Ransom feels Holster grin.

But he promises, “No bullshit,” voice serious. He slips his hand under Ransom’s pants and pats his thigh, and Ransom says, “Wait, hold up.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens the timer app. His hand maybe shakes a little as he sets it to five minutes, but he manages to press ‘Start’ on his first attempt. 

“Aand go,” he says, putting the phone on the floor next to the bed.

“‘Swawesome,” Holster says, kissing his neck lightly. Then he pulls his hand out of Ransom’s pants and grabs the laptop.

“Uh,” Ransom says, as Holster minimizes the video and opens a new tab. Even the way Holster is reaching around him, chin on Ransom’s shoulder to type enveloping him, is nice; could be kinda hot; but it’s not what Ransom was expecting. “Bro?”

Holster hums, then finishes typing the url. 

Ohh. Okay.

“Unless you think this is cheating,” Holster says lightly, scrolling through the front page. He pauses over a video of a man blowing his partner in a club bathroom, then scrolls onwards.

“Nah,” Ransom manages. “That’s just making use of available resources.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

Ransom doesn’t watch a ton of porn. He’s never struggled to get laid, and when he’s going solo, he has a few choice memories to pick from that get him off without the risk of downloading a computer virus. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see the appeal. 

Holster chooses a video promising public sex, which isn’t what Ransom usually goes for, but he can feel himself starting to get hard anyway. It’s the combination of anticipation, pent-up stress about his microbio class, and being a twenty-one-year-old guy. He knows Holster is going to touch him, but isn’t exactly sure how; he takes a slow breath in through his nose and tries to think about anything except the way Holster is wrapped around him. 

Except that now that Holster’s picked a video, his hands are free to roam. He sets the laptop down, then leans back, tugging on Ransom until they're pressed even closer together than before. Ransom can feel Holster’s dick against his ass, not even half-hard but definitely getting there, and pushes down the urge to squirm against it. On screen, the two main actors are sitting at a table; as Ransom watches, one of them drops to his knees underneath it and crawls to kneel in front of the other.

Holster kisses the spot just behind Ransom’s ear and whispers, almost a confession, “I’ve been thinking about this.”

“Having sex in the middle of a restaurant?”

It’s clear that it’s someone’s living room, but they’ve at least made the effort of dragging in a couple tables and moving the television. 

Holster hums the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how to express something complicated. Meanwhile, he slips one large, warm hand under Ransom’s shirt to run it up and down his flank, while the other one idly grasps the inside of his thigh and pushes Ransom’s legs open a little wider.

“Remember the kegster last weekend?” Holster asks finally, tone conversational but mouth hot and very close to Ransom’s ear. Ransom tries to suppress a shiver.

“Uh, yeah. What—” Ransom’s voice stutters as Holster bites his earlobe. “What about it?”

“That girl who came onto you while we were dancing.” In the video, one actor’s dick glides in and out of the other’s mouth. Ransom’s throat is crazy dry. “She thought we were just friends.”

“Yeah,” Ransom manages, and then Holster takes both hands off of him. Ransom whines, which makes Holster laugh, low and raspy, right in Ransom’s ear, which makes Ransom whine again, until Holster’s hands settle at Ransom’s waist.

“Lift your hips, baby,” he says, and Ransom does. Holster pushes his sweats and briefs over his hips, and Ransom gets them off his legs. 

“Shit, Rans,” Holster says, almost reverently, “your thighs.” He runs his hands up and down them. Very carefully moves a hand into Ransom’s pubic hair, careful not to touch his dick; starts to leave a trail of sloppy kisses behind his jaw, open-mouthed and messy. As Holster trails his fingers through Ransom’s pubic hair, tugging lightly, just enough to be a contrast against the pleasure of the moment, Ransom has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from begging him to forget the game and just jerk him off. “What was I saying?”

“Girl.” Holster bites his neck, and Ransom ends up gasping out the word. “At the—kegster.”

“Right, yeah,” Holster says in his ‘horny but trying to focus’ voice. “Uh.” He adjusts himself, shifting a little closer where they’d drifted apart, and this time Ransom lets himself rub back against Holster’s dick. Holster groans, and Ransom does it more, until Holster grabs Ransom’s thighs firmly with each hand: immobilizing him, holding him close. “I wanted her to look at us and know. Wanted to drop to my knees and suck you off right there, so everyone would know.”

“Fuck,” Ransom groans.

“Would you let me?” It’s phrased like a question, but Holster goes on before Ransom even has time to nod vigorously. “‘Course you would. Way you were grinding against me, shoving your dick at me. So needy, right there for anyone to see. I bet you were thinking about it.” Ransom hadn’t been, but now he’s going to, at every party for the rest of his life. 

On screen, a woman has shoved a hand between her legs, rubbing herself showily as she watches; the man next to her has pulled his dick out of his pants and is stroking fast, mouth open and drooling a little. 

“Unless you’d rather have been blowing me,” Holster says. He pinches one of Ransom’s nipples, and Ransom squirms, making Holster’s hands tighten on his thighs, making him talk faster, relentlessly. “I know how much you love having my dick in your mouth. Maybe everyone else should know it too, see you on your knees for me, see how much it turns you on. You get so fucking focused, like it’s the most important thing in the world. And the sounds you make, ‘cause you’re getting off just as much as I am.”

“That’s so fucking hot,” Ransom manages, not sure what he’s referring to, and senses Holster’s responding smile, almost savage.

“Need them to see the way you want me,” he says, like he’s agreeing, then taps a finger against Ransom’s mouth. “Open up.” Ransom obliges automatically, and Holster slides two broad fingers inside, a solid weight Ransom fucking loves. “Suck, baby.” 

Ransom does, and there’s such a relief to having something in him that he barely bothers with fancy tricks, swirling his tongue around only for a moment before getting to business, hollowing his cheeks out while Holster glides his fingers in and out. A line of spit traces down his chin, and he somehow feels Holster’s decision not to wipe it away, feels himself get harder at the thought of it happening in public, at a kegster, everyone seeing how messy he gets for Holster. 

“Love your mouth,” Holster says, breaths coming quick. “Your fucking amazing mouth. Everyone can see how much you want it, how hot you are. How well you suck my dick.” 

Ransom sucks a little harder, and Holster swears. 

“But they don’t get to feel it, do they, baby. They all want to, but they just have to watch, because your mouth’s just for me, isn’t it. Because you’re mine.”

Ransom moans. Drool spills out of his mouth but he doesn’t care; the man in the video is coming all over his partner, and Ransom’s cock is so hard it hurts. Holster pulls his fingers out of Ransom’s mouth and shoves up his shirt to rub at Ransom’s nipple while his other hand drifts down to Ransom’s ass, spreading his cheeks, getting a finger against his hole, and he wants it so bad he might die.

“Holtzy, please,” he gasps, and Holster says, “Please what,” and then the timer on Ransom’s phone goes off. He throws his right arm over the side of the bed, scrabbling for it without looking—he doesn’t want to move out of Holster’s arms. It briefly slides a little farther under his bed, and he thinks for a moment he might cry from sheer frustration—Holster is still touching him—but he finally fishes it out and turns it off, saying, “Fuck.”

He twists around in Holster’s arms so that they're facing each other.

Holster grins at him, and Ransom grins back.

“So do you think you’re fully hard, or,” Holster says. 

Ransom laughs, a sound that turns breathy when Holster finally—finally!—gets a hand around his cock.

“Please,” Ransom whispers again, and Holster’s face does the thing. He grabs the lube off the nightstand and starts jerking Ransom off, slow but solid, and Ransom’s eyes flutter from how good it feels.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” he asks, and the question adds to the heat in Ransom’s gut but he shakes his head. He would, normally, but—

“I just wanna come.”

Holster lets out a weird, breathy half-chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Like this.” He falls back, propping himself up with his elbows, and Ransom follows him down, hovering just over him in a plank position. He lowers his head to lick Holster’s neck, which is salty from sweat, and smiles to himself when Holster lets out a little sigh. Then Holster takes them both in hand, and all of  Ransom’s concentration shifts to not coming immediately. He drops his head to Holster’s shoulder, then raises it again. Holster’s mouth is already there, because of course he knew what Ransom was thinking, that he wants to kiss now. They do; the little noise Holster makes when Ransom licks into his mouth makes Ransom’s toes curl, and he knows he’s not gonna last long at all.

“Fuck, Holts,” he pants, and Holster groans, “Yeah,” and pumps a little faster, and Ransom hears him say You’re mine again, and a moment later he comes all over both of them. Holster follows a second after. 

They breathe through the aftermath together.

Ransom rolls onto his back, staring at the top bunk. “That was, like, really good,” he points out once he can speak again.

“Chyeah,” Holster says. “We’re kind of awesome at this.”

Ransom grins. “I love you, bro.”

“I love you too.” Holster’s smile is a little smirky. “And hey, that took less time than a 30 Rock episode. So you didn’t even lose essay time.”

Ransom groans. “Fuck, the essay.”

Holster drops a kiss on his shoulder and starts clambering out of bed, pausing the video that’s still playing on the laptop. “You can have first shower.”

“Thanks, babe,” Ransom says, and sighs. “Fuck that essay.”

~~~

thanks for reading! here's the ao3 link for if u want to leave a kudos/comment.