#even if you don’t like star wars you should check the show out

[xiaq]

Is it time for a Steddie time travel fix-it AU? (yes)

A03

There’s something wrong with Steve Harrington.

It’s not that Eddie’s watching him. Not that he pays any special attention to him. But the guy is noticeable. He’s the closest thing Hawkins has to royalty: Rich. Star athlete. Attractive. He’s the cliche golden boy of every teen movie with his polos and letterman jacket and vacant, pretty smile as he walks down hallways with his arm around the girl-of-the-week. He’s a predictable staple; a static figure in the horror script that is Eddie’s high school existence.

So when Steve Harrington shows up to school on an otherwise ordinary Wednesday looking and acting really fucking different, Eddie notices.

Well, he doesn’t actually look all that different. The clothes are normal. But his hair is far from its typical careful coiffure, and there’s a frantic energy to him as he shoves his way through the double doors and jogs into the empty hallway.

He doesn’t see Eddie, tucked in the bathroom alcove.

The only people at the school this early are the marching band kids, wrapping up their hellishly early practice, and Eddie, waiting to sell to a tuba player with no concept of how much weed should actually cost. Eddie has no intention of informing him.

Steve Harrington, pacing in front of a segment of lockers, checking his watch, shoving his fingers through his hair, is wildly out-of-place in the bright-lit early-morning hallway.

And then, things get weirder.

Because Robin Buckley exits the band room and they both freeze.

“Fuck,” she says, “are you––”

“Rob,” Steve says, and it's the most gut-wrenching sound Eddie has maybe ever heard in his life.

She throws herself at him and they hug like—Eddie doesn’t even know. Like the people you see on the news from war zones who thought their family had been killed before a miraculous reunion.

“Are you ok?” she asks, voice cracked and carrying in the empty hallway. “I woke up this morning and my mom was just acting like everything was normal and I had to get to practice and I thought maybe it had all been some fucked up dream but even I’m not that creative.” She pushes away from him, tugging up the bottom of his shirt, “what about––are you––?”

He grabs her wrist, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m completely fine. I’m just…1983 me.”

What the fuck, Eddie thinks.

Well, he’s already been thinking that, but. What does that even mean? What else would he be?

“Are the kids ok?”

What kids?

“I don’t know. I don’t have a walkie or anything anymore it’s all––” Steve gestures, “reset. And if this is ‘83 then they’re all actual children again, El might not even be––and what if they don’t––”

“They have to. I mean, if we do, they have to, right?”

Are they on drugs? Is he on drugs? The blunt he smoked last night shouldn’t cause hallucinations. He pinches himself. Ow.

The band hall doors open again and Eddie shifts further into the alcove as several horn players walk past.

“We can figure things out after school,” Steve murmurs. “We just have to hold it together until then. I don’t know if we’re stuck here or not but if we are––”

“Right. Act normal. Just normal, 16-year-old Robin things. No problem.”

They grab each other again, a tight, desperate, embrace that is not at all normal, Eddie feels it’s important to point out. He didn’t even think that Harrington knew Buckley existed. It’s almost as strange as if Harrington decided to hug Eddie. Inexplicable.

They separate, Robin rubbing at her eyes and Harrington muttering something about not remembering his locker combination. Eddie’s customer arrives before he can decide if he wants to investigate things further.

Focusing in his first period is even more impossible than usual. Focusing on math is tedious enough normally, but when Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are having some sort of shared nervous breakdown it’s even harder to care about logarithmic functions.

He sees Steve again in the hallway after first period and Eddie will admit he’s actively looking for him now. Steve is talking in hushed tones to Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Beyers of all people. His hair is an absolute wreck, and his posture is…Eddie doesn’t know how to describe it. 'Aggressive' isn’t quite right but it’s close.

And then, like Harrington has some sort of intuition he’s being watched, he glances up and meets Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know why he runs. His fight or flight instincts have been well-honed his 4 years at Hawkins High and there’s something about the feral-ness in Steve’s stance, the completely unfathomable emotion in his eyes, that has Eddie shoving his way around the corner and into the bathroom. He drops his lunchbox into the sink and pushes both hands into his hair with a quietly muttered: “fuck.” He feels like he might be going crazy.

The door opens.

“Eddie,” Steve says.

It sounds strangely similar to the way he’d said “Rob” that morning–full of something Eddie doesn’t understand.

“Harrington,” he says warily.

Steve takes two steps forward and Eddie automatically scrambles backward, running into the wall and bashing his elbow against the paper towel dispenser. Steve has never actually hurt him before, but some of the guys he hangs out with have and—

Steve freezes: both hands out, reaching for nothing.

“You don’t—?”

There’s a question, there, but Eddie has no idea what it is.

“Eddie?” he says again. This time, it’s desperate and Eddie has no idea why.

The only time he’s ever seen someone’s eyes look like this is when he was looking at his own reflection in the church’s bathroom mirror, clinging to the sink at his mother’s funeral.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. 

Steve’s jaw works. “You don’t remember,” he says blankly.

“Remember what? You’re kinda freaking me out, dude, which is impressive, considering,” he gestures expansively to himself, gives a little shake of his hips so the chains rattle.

Steve doesn’t laugh.

“You don’t remember,” he repeats, more to himself than Eddie. “But you’re ok?”

He’s looking at Eddie’s chest.

“Yes? A-okay. Tip top. Hagan barely touched me yesterday, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“Tommy hurt you?” Steve says.

Well, shit. The crazy eyes are back. 

“Man, why do you care?”

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but can I just–”

Eddie lets him approach, this time. Lets him reach out to touch. It’s just one hand, at first, tentative, like Steve is expecting to be rebuffed, palm cupped to the ball of his shoulder over his jacket. “Sorry,” he says again, letting go only to reach for the hem of Eddie’s shirt, “Sorry, I know I probably sound crazy, I just––” he pulls it up, stares at Eddie’s side, and then lets out a hysterical little noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob.

“You’re ok,” he says.

His fingers are hot on Eddie’s skin, pressed light and shockingly reverent to the space between his hip and rib cage.

“You’re ok,” he repeats. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, it comes out more breathless than he’d prefer but Steve fucking Harrington has him backed against a wall in a bathroom with his hands up Eddie’s shirt so he thinks a little lack of air is warranted. “Are you ok?”

The fingers on his abdomen flex.

“No,” Steve says. His eyes are wide and fathomless and the look on his face is terrible. “No, I’m not even remotely ok.”

It sounds like a confession. 

Steve lets go of Eddie’s shirt.

He takes a studied step back but then stops, palm still splayed on Eddie’s side, free hand reaching for Eddie’s arm, for his elbow, to cling, like he can’t quite force himself to stop touching; not yet. He’s looking at Eddie like Eddie has broken his heart which doesn’t make any sense because they don’t know each other. They’ve never spoken directly to each other in their lives. So there’s no reason that Steve should be looking at him, like, like––

Like he is.

They’re breathing each other’s second-hand air and Eddie can smell him and there have only been a few times in his life when a boy has looked at Eddie with even half the want that Steve Harrington is looking at him with now. And never, never has a man who looks like Steve Harrington looked at Eddie with anything approaching whatever the hell is on Steve’s face.

“Eddie,” Steve says, and he sounds so lost. 

Eddie’s not proud of it.

He runs away.

He shoves Steve to the side, wrenches open the door, and runs without stopping through the hall, outside, down the sidewalk, and onto the main road. He runs until he has to stop because he can’t breathe and only then does he bend over, hands braced on knees, and look behind him. He almost expects to see Steve has followed him.

He hasn’t. 

Eddie can't decide if he's relieved by that or not. And then he realizes he’s left his entire stash in the lunchbox in the bathroom.

“Fuck,” he hisses, straightening, hands on his head, lungs aching.

“Fuck,” he says again, just for the hell of it.

He has no idea what’s happening.

But what he does know is that something is seriously wrong with Steve Harrington.

Pt2 here.

#steddie #steddie fic #time travel #myfic #mywriting #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #robin & steve

[gabbasposts]

>How they’d react to you loosing both romantic and platonic feelings after knowing you liked them<

Star Wars: Skywalker Men, specifically the original boys.

Warnings: angst, language (I think 💀), +18 even though this has no nsfw, I plan to write for that in the future so yeah lol (also gifs aren’t mine, I just wanted a nice sky gif because I’m talking about my favorite Skywalkers, and I wanted gifs of them that kinda showed how they’d feel towards the situation lol)

A/n: My first official post on this blog (which is funny considering I’ve had it for so long lol) but just a heads up, I’m now just entering my Star Wars phase so I’m going to be honest, I’m a little clueless 💀 ofc like any fanfic writer who wants to write good shit, I fact check as best as I can, but if things aren’t correct or seem off, I’m open to criticism lol

Anakin:

At first he’s relieved…

He already is romantically involved with Padme, and he doesn’t want someone sabotaging his relationship and making things complicated because they feel the need to declare their love for him when it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way about them.

And you of all people should know (especially if you were super close to him) that he’d never feel that way to anyone other than Padme, yet alone you…

It’s bad enough Padme seems to be becoming restless with his new ideals, and his methods when it comes to wanting to keep her safe… the last thing he needs is for her to gain a reason to cut him off for good.

All because of a witless misunderstanding, from someone he never even looked at that way to begin with.

Yes, he’s told you things he’s never told Padme before… things he now regrets considering it’s not obvious you view him in a light that you think he also sees you in, but isn’t that what friends do?

He won’t immediately go off on you… he still respects you (again, most likely because you know shit he doesn’t want others knowing 🤡) in a sense, but at the end of the day, he puts his foot down before you can even get in a retort.

You are a friend.

Padme is his lover, and soon to be mother of his child.

Nothing would change with that…

He begins to ignore you.

Wanting to see if you’d understand his message at first.

If you push him, still wanting him to realize your feelings for him, let’s just say… your officially no longer a friend, and he isn’t above doing things to both silent you (because he doesn’t want Padme finding out you had feelings because your already a friend and he works closely with you) but he’d make you understand you’ve fucked up with him.

If you back away after his harsh, solid, and honest reaction towards the fact he would never feel the same way, he’d calm down, happy you understood you place at his side.

He first notices your sudden indifference to him when your suddenly able to be in a room with him in it, and your eyes can suddenly meet his.

They don’t hold the hurt, or embarrassment that was easy to both sense with the force, as well as read on your face and in your body language.

And he’s happy about it. Things can finally return to normal… or so he thought.

That’s when your behavior towards him changes full fledged as well…

Fights with Obi that you usually would come to his defense and try to back him up (not just selfishly because you liked him) factually, and in calmer tone than he typically wouldn’t be able to muster when Obi would bring him to that point of anger… suddenly became you acting like you weren’t in the same room.

Sometimes you didn’t even go the full mile of pretending to be preoccupied with something else like dealing with your light-saber, or suddenly checking your map… you’d just stand there, starring at him once Obi put his foot down on something, a stoic and indifferent facial expression on your face.

When he’d confront you about it, you’d simply state you were loyal to the Jedi order and your previous actions were more or less caused by your irrational feelings towards him…

This would one, sadden him because in his mind, realizes now that you weren’t doing those things because you were a genuine friend who wanted to support him when he needed it, you were simply hoping he’d realize your effort, and develop the same feelings you had towards him.

And it would anger him because how could you be so dumb to think he would ever return your feelings when he was clearly and so obviously in-love with Padme?

You were able to throw away your moral code even if there was a possibility that you didn’t agree with him on things, all out of the hope that there was a small chance he liked you back, and he’d view it as romantic devotion to him…

You’d go against your Jedi way which yes, he knew he had no right to be judging when it came to that considering he went against every Jedi rule just to be with Padme, but he at least had a good reason.

You on the other hand didn’t… again, he didn’t return your feelings so why would you risk everything you built up in terms of working towards receiving your Jedi title, only to sabotage it for someone who didn’t like you?

This ultimately leads to a fight.

However, if your truly over him and even show shame to even liking him to the point you tell him it was a weird phase or something, then the chances of a fight will probably be lowered weirdly.

He understands phases… he also understands putting hope into someone, praying they’d realize your potential and worth and while he doesn’t respect you did so hoping he’d understand or even leave Padme for you, he can relate.

Just don’t expect him not to be bitter towards you for it.

No he didn’t like you, but he thought you were his friend.

You were there for him when master Yoda told him he was too emotional and he needed to learn to center his emotions, you were there for him to mediate fights with Obi, another person he had considered a friend up until the point he got harsher with his actions and words and utter refusal to see that Anakin would do anything to protect Padme, as well as his genuine views and methods… it was too much.

While he didn’t love you the way you wanted, it felt like a loss he could’ve still had some control over.

Maybe if he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to go soft around you… maybe if he hadn’t showed his true colors, colors that not even Obi-wan had gotten to see…

Only naturally, he starts to dislike you.

When your fighting an enemy together, you better pray you can hold your own because he purposely doesn’t stick near you.

Luke:

Like his father, he’s relieved at first. (but that also depends on how you take it…)

If your calm about it, (at least calm enough to hold up a front in front of him until you can be alone) he’ll smile sadly, realizing that even if you take it the “right” way, you’re still probably disappointed by it.

After all, pouring your heart out to those you wish to love and have love returned to you isn’t something you just up and recover from immediately.

He’ll ultimately try to find a way to excuse himself in a kind matter… only because it’s undoubtedly awkward as hell to just up and kick start a new conversation after that.

Of course he’s not going to just up and ditch you without making sure nothing is going to change between you two platonically.

That’s the difference between him and his dad 💀 (but then again, Anakin still has a bit of a better reason to distance himself and not try to salvage the friendship. After all,the woman he’s with is having his kids and he loves her deeply, something he’s shared and told you most likely if you two were hella close, but still)

After some time apart, (maybe sleeping on it, or say you confessed to him before he had to depart to somewhere else) the next time you’d see him, he’d greet you normally and would pay close attention to your demeanor even though he’d be doing his best and acting as if nothing has changed between you two since your confession.

When he notices your smiles seemed more strain, and you tend to seem hyper focused on your task rather than acknowledging him when he enters a room like usual, ultimately he becomes saddened by it, but he won’t confront you… yet.

He’d try to hang out with you like you two would typically do after training or a hard mission, and would joke and ask you how you were doing, but when he realizes your not as actively doing the same back, and your actions not words don’t seem as genuine, that’s when he grows frustrated.

He’ll begin to give you distance… wanting to see if you’d take the bait and try to see what’s wrong due to distance usually not being his thing.

He’s lost people he loved before and while his love for you isn’t romantic, he still loves you and wants you in his life.

He wants you too, to realize that your getting rid of a solid friendship just because he doesn’t return you feelings… he has put his life on the line to protect you before, and even now while your acting this way, he’d do so again with out a second thought because the way he cares for you is deep… he wants you to realize that.

He hopes you will…

But ultimately, the only thing he gets from you is maybe a small smile if your walking past one another, or a nod of acknowledgment when you two are in the same places.

Finally he’d confront you, growing both saddened and slightly annoyed.

“I still want us to be friends… were your feelings always just… a crush you had on me?”

Surely you wanted to be platonic with him before anything else…

How you respond ultimately is what makes or breaks him when it comes to how he feels about you.

If you tell him you started developing feelings towards the midst of your friendship, he holds a slither of hope that he might be able to convince you to be his friend again by reminding you of the times you had before you developed feelings.

If you tell him you always had feelings for him, prior to formally becoming friends… as much as it pains him, he knows that there is no chance of ever returning back to having a normal friendship with one another… because at the end of the day, it’s clear you always saw a prospect of him realizing your feelings for him, and not that of simply wanting to be friends.

He’d nod, smiling sadly and apologize for not feeling the same way… but not before thanking you for being his friend.

Because at the end of the day, even if the friendship was one sided, he enjoyed your company and he’d miss the memories you two shared.

IF you take it badly… (example: “But… I thought because we were so close, you maybe saw something in me too…”, “What? No, all the things we’ve done together… they didn’t mean anything?” Etc, you know… the delusional route 💀)

That’s when his frustration rises.

As calmly and carefully as he can (because still, he wants to see if he can salvage the friendship) he’ll explain to you that the moments that you took as romantic were always platonic for him.

That it isn’t fair that your punishing him by pretending you not only never had feelings for him, but that you never cared for him to begin with by acting like he simply was another acquaintance you worked with instead of someone you already established both a friendship and memories with.

He’s shared some of his most intimate moments and thoughts with you… his secrets, as did you.

And he’s risked his life for you and even though you were acting as if you didn’t know him now… he still would if you were in trouble… he loved you.

…Just not in the way you clearly wanted.

It might escalate into an argument.

With him defending his right to not be entitled to loving you the way you clearly wanted, and you still trying to prove you always looked at him in a loving manner that you wanted him to realize.

Ultimately there’s only one route that follows after this, and that’s the end of your friendship as you both know it.

It’s sad… and he’ll always miss you as you do him… but one thing you should know about him, and should’ve always known about him even once you had managed to escape acquaintance field with him, is that he would always and had always remained true to his feelings.

And he would until the day he died even if he missed you badly… as a friend.

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #luke skywalker #star wars luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #star wars #angst #I made this while drunk as hell because I always get in my feelings and want sad shit when I’m drunk for some reason 💀 #skywalker family #also first post lol #gabbasdumbthoughts #I love skywalker men lol

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine Hayden Christensen warms your day up.

Warnings: none, light, short reading.

***

Here you are again. You have all that you want: a good job, good paycheck, but not a domestic stability. Your family, in spite of you being an adult woman capable of looking after yourself, keeps meddling in your life and always says things aimed to hurt you.

Who cares whether you are peaceful, gentle, good hearted? Who would remember the sacrifices done throughout these years to them? Should it really surprise anyone at all that you are trying to be unreachable?

You’ve had a huge fight with your grandparents. They are difficult to handle most of times, they don’t make your life easy… even if they don’t live with you anymore, but this weekend you paid them a visit and they hurt you badly.

Still under the effect of these old wounds, you opt to isolate yourself at home. It’s when Hayden comes at you. Your long time celebrity friend has been wondering why you haven’t been picking up his calls, wondering about your whereabouts.

On this Saturday, though, you are going to get a pleasantly surprise. Hayden decides to come to your apartment and check on you himself.

“Frankly, my dear Y/N, I do give a damn.”

Such are his thoughts when rewinding at the back of his mind the gleeful way you often lead your life, or how you helped him throughout his divorce, often there for him when you needed.

As Hayden prepares to drive all the way to meet you, he recollects the times you made him laugh when he was heartbroken due to a misunderstanding that led his ex wife ask for divorce; or even before, when you cheered him up after the critics he got in “Revenge of the Sith”.

Your closest friend also remembers when you encouraged him to take back the role of Anakin Skywalked/Darth Vader, ever the enthusiast about “Star Wars.”

(“Seriously, H. No one does the Darth Vader thing better than you”, you told him then.

“I do not feel so inclined… I mean, don’t take me wrong but…”

“I will not, I will take you by Force.”)

A joke that brought him to laughters then….and makes him smile now. But for a while he could tell you’ve not been the same. There was sadness in your eyes, exhaustion showing in how you sighed… your smile faltered often, and he could tell you haven’t been yourself lately. Whenever he tried to inquire, you shooed him away.

Once this upset him, now he knows he should have never given you up—because you never quit him.

Now here he is, anxious to check on you. He doesn’t care whether you are sick or not, he’s going to be with you, to spend weekend with you.

Hayden Christensen is going to look after you… because he also comes to realize he came to love you.

***

Unbeknownst about it, you follow your routine. You have just taken a shower, so your hair is wet and you are dressing a black “Darth Vader” blouse and jeans shorts. You are about to have ice cream for lunch when the doorbell rings.

“Who the hell is here?”, you ask yourself out loud, not in the mood for interaction.

But every moaning dies when opening the door and seeing Hayden Christensen with a grave look on his face.

“Hayden!”, you exclaim, rather shocked for his unexpected visit. “What are you doing here?”

“We haven’t talked during these past four days. It is very atypical of you to go off like this”, says he, engulfing you in an embrace that makes you mewl deep inside. “I missed you, Y/Nickname.”

This isn’t how you expect to be greeted by a friend. When his strong arms engulf your petite frame in a warm embrace, your heart races and your mind goes blank. When breathing in his scent, your body chemistry is affected—an unfamiliar warmth clings onto your feminine parts in a way that has never affected you before. At least not where your friendship has been concerned.

Which makes you realize that there’s always been that question which you promptly avoided to ask: is friendship enough for you?

Sweeping away such thoughts, you rather focus in the delight his presence gives you.

“Well?”, says he, impatiently so when both of you reluctantly part of the other. “What’s your excuse?”

“I wasn’t being myself lately”, you admit, aware how pointless it would be to lie to him, not after his surprising visit. “I was just…”

You sigh before updating him about the recent events. You detest how family businesses affect you, and so suddenly you find yourself sitting in the couch with him by your side as you burst into tears.

This time roles are reversed and Hayden consoles you, not only patting your shoulders, but actually listening to what you have to say. And then he plays with your hair, delicately so, before making you look at him.

He can tell you are a mess, but this fragility you often kept to yourself. Thus it is meaningful how open you are to him, like he has been to yourself.

Indeed, what you two have is rare.

“You don’t have to shy away from me”, he helps wiping away your tears. “Come on, you have no right, not when you saw me at my worst.”

You have no right to protest it, your conscience already admonishes you for any attempt in doing it. So you nod your head and lean it against his shoulder, melting in his strong arms.

“I apologize for being proud”, you sigh heavily, feeling like he’s your home and he is, you know it. “I did not wish to trouble you.”

Hayden scoffs at your lame excuse and you chuckle at the sound of it. He’s not ready to admit it yet but when he lowers his gaze to meet yours, his heart stops lightly.

Oh.

“For the love of God, woman, when have you ever troubled me?! If you have, I would’ve told you somehow.” Pleased to make you smile, he adds: “I am staying this weekend.”

“Hayden!”, you blush, the first evidence of something that gives him hopes that perhaps his fondness is not entirely one side.

“What? You looked after me, now I should return the favour”, says he as a matter of factly. “I am not taking any no as answers.”

You don’t protest, specially because it does feel good to be finally looked after at least once. You are the one who tends others and always try to be strong.

As you nod, you delegate Hayden the control that used to be yours.

“What happened?”, he inquires as you two sit in the couch.

As he plays with your hair and you get comfortable with his presence in more than friendly acceptable ways, you tell him about your recent emotional distress.

He listens.

Attentively so.

And then… he lifts your chin, seeing sadness in these pretty y/c eyes of yours. His long fingers hold you still and you are paralyzed, mesmerized by how he denudes your soul.

Never before you felt so exposed.

Never before you felt… seen.

Understood.

“I need to apologize”, says he, breaking the spell, though he doesn’t let go of you for a moment.

“What for?”, so you question him, confused. “You’ve never done any wrongs to me, Hayden.”

“I’m afraid I have”, Hayden sighs before parting the gaze just to dive again in you. “I took more than enough time to realize I love you. I think I was afraid to admit it concerning all I’ve been through, as had you, but I cannot look away.”

You are shocked by his words and, as a result, your mind goes blank. Hayden waits as you process it, partly fearful for being misled into think you feel the same.

His heart starts to race faster when you lean into him with a sweet smile on your lips.

“You are my sunshine and you make me happy when skies are grey”, you translate your thoughts in such a famous lyric before holding him near and kissing him gently.

Every doubt dies at this very moment, when peace moves away the last reminiscences of a long lasting storm.

So there you two remain, locking lips, locking hands with interwoven hearts.

#star wars #star wars imagine #Hayden Christensen #hayden christensen x y/n #Hayden Christensen x female reader

[techy-space-demon]

Angle dust should have been the first to die and go to heaven.

Angel was the first patron of the hotel and the one seen by heaven when Charlie argues her case. He checks all the boxes and we see him genuinely grow and begin trying for redemption, he seems more at peace the night before a war than he has been the entire show, having a reason to fight and keep living instead of drowning himself in men and drugs. Sir pentious in contrast has been there a week and has nowhere near the in-depth character development or emotional attachment given to Angel.

Imagine this:

Angel fights the final battle alongside husk, we have the regular back and forth fight but then we see husk in the direct line of one of Adam’s rays, Angel pushes husk and takes the blow for him. Husk whips around and rushes to Angels side. Husk drops to his knees and cradles Angle, pleading with him to be okay to not go that he is gonna get through it and all the dont you fucking dares. Angel smiles they have a cute sad moment but Angel dies. Charlie sees, shouts, and charges at Adam with Razzle and Dazzle, continue the rest of the fight just don’t have the sir pentious sacrifice scene.

Husk is heartbroken in the after scene, shown to be drinking himself stupid with grief he refuses to acknowledge. We also get a painting of Angel, and given all the posters/ media we have seen of him so far, it would feel so bittersweet to see him in art not as a sex object but as himself. We have an ending similar to sir pentious where Angel ends up on a street in heaven, not in front of the seraphim, and we see him confused, and as he looks around he hears “Anthony?” And we see his sister, the one that was in the heaven musical number, recognize him, his name being something he probably hasn’t heard in years.

And think of the implications of that for season 2! We know that heaven can be achieved, and not only that, we now know that you can be redeemed even if you have a contract. And given how famous Angel dust is, imagine how impactful it would be in hell to see the owned contracted porn star get redeemed and sent to heaven. Overlords would lose their shit because they could lose their owned souls, contracted demons would clamor to be redeemed to get out of their deals, and Alastor would be put in a hard position, as husk could use the redemption against Alastor and get to Angel. That’s not even mentioning the implication of Valentino losing Angel and targeting Charlie for it, with a high likelihood to get other nervous overlords on his side.

Sir pentious feels like the easy death, the oh cool it works death, but we all knew on some level it was going to work. But Angel Dust? That is emotional, and that possibility of redemption would build so much angst and conflict between Charlie and the overlords, especially the V’s, going into season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angst #angel dust #sir pentious #hazbin alastor #hazbin #hazbin husk #hazbin charlie #hazbin spoilers

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 5

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut (not for a few chapters still), Canon-Typical Violence

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4

Chapter 5 summary: The Batch arrives back on Ord Mantell, where Crosshair keeps an eye on Dara. We find out where Omega has been these last few chapters.

By the time they arrived on Ord Mantell, Dara had succeeded in sharing sips of the grassy beverage with every member of the squad but Crosshair, chatting openly, even charmingly, with each one of them. They were regaled with languid observations of her time on Endor and other planets she’d encountered in her years traveling, many of which they had never visited themselves—she had, understandably, avoided the war-torn planets they were most familiar with. Dara seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a solitary nomad with no occupation, just brief stints of day labor wherever she could get it passing through. She met people; she worked in markets and ran errands for shopkeepers; she helped with harvests; she spent months alone on uninhabited moons, living out of her ship and watching the stars. Her blasters, she claimed, were for protection, not only from seedier elements in the cities she traversed, but bandits and creatures. She liked traveling alone, she said, but there were dangers, too.

When the hatch opened in their usual landing bay, Tech assessed Dara’s injuries with one final scan. “The symptoms associated with your concussion appear to have subsided. However, you will likely continue experiencing some pain elsewhere for several more hours.”

She rose slowly, still limping a little as she tested the feeling in her leg and hip. “I really can’t thank you all enough.”

Wrecker, the friendliest among them, seemed a little disappointed to see her go. “Hey, come find us if you need anything!”

She brightened a little. “Of course, big guy! Maybe I can buy you all a drink to show my appreciation. Hope I see you around.” With that, she turned and made her way out of the bay, disappearing into the crowded streets of Ord Mantell as they watched from the top of the ramp.

“She’s lying,” Crosshair insisted immediately.

He expected pushback from his brothers, so he was surprised when Hunter agreed. “Oh, yeah. She’s pretty good. Most of the time her heart didn’t even stutter a little. Maybe she was even telling the truth sometimes. But the shuttle…that’s not what happened. I don’t even think she was on Takodana.” Crosshair admitted to himself, begrudgingly, that he should have known his brother wouldn’t be so easily duped. Hunter’s enhanced senses gave him a unique insight into the subtle bodily tells that would have betrayed her efforts to bury the truth.

“Indeed. While the majority of the information that she provided regarding her travels was accurate, her timeline for her visits for at least the past year most certainly was not. For example, Boonta Eve is not celebrated on Tatooine during the period that she claimed to be living there,” Tech contributed.

Hunter nodded decisively. “Crosshair, keep an eye on her. There could be a lot of reasons she’s lying, but she knows we work out of Ord Mantell now, so we should at least try to find out if she’ll be a problem for us.”

Crosshair wasted no time before deftly scaling the sides of the landing bay to track her from the rooftops. He spotted her quickly, her silver hair bobbing among the crowd as she made her way down the street. There was a determination in her step despite the ongoing limp, her earlier attitude of carefree traveler gone as she navigated the city like an expert. She did not stop to inquire at the spaceport about shuttles that could take her to her next destination, instead marching block after block, occasionally doubling back deliberately while scanning the crowd, peering at the shop signs as if looking for something. Finally, she entered what appeared to be a curio shop, exiting twenty minutes later.

Leaping easily from rooftop to rooftop, the sniper tailed the mysterious woman all through the afternoon, watching as she paused at market stalls, chatted with vendors, and ducked into innocent-looking stores. Any purchases she made within view appeared to be innocent: resupplies for her camp kit and other necessities for a nomadic existence, all of which the Bad Batch was deeply familiar with from their years at war and their fugitive lives since. Once, Crosshair witnessed her deftly catch the wrist of a pickpocket as the youth brushed against her, giving him a stern look before he could get his sticky fingers on any of her credits, but otherwise letting him go unharmed and without protest. She occasionally turned down dead-end alleys, only to duck into a doorway and wait a few beats before returning the way she had come.

Whatever she was doing, she was cautious about not being followed. Of course, he was no ordinary observer.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Crosshair gave up his pursuit. He made his way to Cid’s parlor, scowling at the familiar neon sign on his way in, removing his helmet and sticking a toothpick in his mouth as he entered. The rest of the squad had delivered the goods to Cid and were huddled around a table, drinks in hand. They looked at him expectantly as he threw himself down in a seat.

“She’s experienced at evading a tail and didn’t even bother to ask at the spaceport about shuttles, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary,” Crosshair reported. “Mostly restocked on supplies all afternoon. Standard stuff, except for a trip to an antique store. I couldn’t see if she bought anything there.”

Cid, who was lurking about nearby with a sponge—cleaning what, Crosshair didn’t know, since the place was as filthy as always—narrowed her beady, reptilian eyes. “What kind of antique store?” she asked suspiciously.

Attentive and thorough as always, Crosshair had memorized the name of every shop she had entered. “Old Ord Salvage.”

“Huh.” The Trandoshan looked intrigued. “Where’d you say you picked up that girly?”

Echo’s eyes darkened a little, betraying his distaste for their employer. “Why? You know something?” he asked.

Cid’s face returned to its usual expression of contempt. “Jeez, you boys are lucky you have me to keep up with things for you. Old Ord Salvage is a front. There’s a back room where smugglers and other shady characters—such as yourselves—can use their sub-space communications set-up to send long-range transmissions without the Imperial authorities picking up on them.”

“Well. Dara did, in fact, hijack a shuttle, then flee from and kill several Imperial stormtroopers. It stands to reason that she would seek to remain off the Empire’s radar,” Tech considered pragmatically.

Crosshair shook his head, frowning. “She went straight there immediately after she left us. She already knew about where it was and how to access it. This isn’t the first time she’s had to avoid the Empire—she has experience. We should leave Ord Mantell—she can connect us to it, it’s compromised.”

“I don’t think so, skinny,” Cid interrupted. “You lot have work to do. The next few jobs I have lined up are time sensitive.”

Seeing Crosshair open his mouth to reply, Hunter stepped between the two of them decisively, avoiding whatever violent threat the sniper was about to make toward their employer. “She’s right. We’ll ask Rex to see if he can find out any info on Dara from his contacts. Just so we know if she’s someone we have to worry about or not. In the meantime, we’ll keep an eye out. I have to go contact Omega and let her know we’ll be a little while longer while we finish these next jobs for Cid.”

Wrecker seemed disappointed to hear they wouldn’t be heading back to Pabu soon. “Aww. The kid’s not gonna be happy,” he lamented. When they had left Omega, they had expected to complete one quick job before they returned. Now they would be apart from their sister for weeks—although she understood that the extra credits they were scrounging up would help fund Rex’s rebel clone network.

Hunter sighed. “I know. I miss her too. But it’s good for her to be around friends her own age, for a while, anyway. We’ll go back to pick her up soon.” The sergeant got up, making his way toward the parlor’s back rooms to make his calls. Crosshair stalked after him.

“I don’t like this,” he murmured unhappily.

Hunter was thoughtful. “I don’t much like it either. But whoever Dara is, it’s clear she’s no friend to the Empire. There can’t be too much to worry about.” He gave his brother a comforting pat on the shoulder before exiting, leaving the sniper chewing unhappily on his toothpick in the dingy bar.

#bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch #star wars #tbb spoilers #clone wars fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb fanfiction

[oroniusn]

Introductions

Hello! You may call me Samuel :] (or Sam, Samael, Oroniusn, Oro, I’m not picky!) I decided to redo my introduction post so it was more accurate and elaborate.

I’m a trans man, I’m oriented aroace (romance and sex repulsed/indifferent but it fluctuates at times, when not repulsed I consider myself gay/MLM)

I call myself Transexual, Tranny and a fag, that bothers you feel free to leave your complaints at the door I do not care. All other “old” queer terms fit as well!

I’m also a proud socialist!

My two big special interests are WW1/WW2 history, and survivalist/apocalypse prepping. I’m always down to talk about both. (Especially if you’re also from the United States, the land here is beautiful and I’d love to run off into the woods)

a warning for cannibalism/murder talk on here (both of which I bring up regularly), to get the F&Q out of the way, yes I would eat a person if given the chance, Now moving on!

Currently learning German (A-1? Bordering on A-2? It’s a slow process) and will probably be posting on here in German as a practice when I get better.

American English is my native language (C2)

I’m a practicing Norse Pagan (with Christopagan/Enochian elements mixed in) as well as a Therian/Otherkin (spiritual and mental, depends on the kintype, feel free to ask questions!) I’m generally a very open person when it comes to the paranormal, ghosts, cryptids, curses, demons, I follow a sort of “It’s real until proven otherwise” path. It keeps life interesting.

-DNI-

Supporters of the IDF/Israel or anyone who thinks you can have a neutral stance on the liberation of Palestine

Actually anyone who thinks ANY form of colonization is correct, I don’t want you here

Far right wingers (I’m a socialist, why are you here)

TERFs/SWERFs/TRUSCUM, any of those fuckers, I’ll just block you anyways but might as well add it

“Kill all men” people (I’m a trans dude, once again why are you here?)

Evangelicals, I have no problems with other branches, Y’all are welcome here

Anti-recovery (It’s fine if YOU don’t want to recover, just not if you don’t believe people should recover)

Anyone who is Anti-reclaiming, please do some research on 80’s-90’s queer culture.

-BYF-

I pretty much never check the accounts I interact with before hand, if I broke your DNI it wasn’t intentional (although I tend to find “this fandom dni” type lists stupid as hell)

I can seem very unhinged at times, that’s pretty much my normal (by unhinged I don’t mean “silly” I mean I have little to no moral compass and empathy for others, I also struggle to differentiate right from wrong sometimes)

I also experience paranoia, hallucinations and delusions that can cause me to be irrational. Typically around things like being watched (either by something or by cameras Truman show style) being hunted or an impending sense of doom/feeling that something bad is about to happen.

I struggle with self harm/suicidal thoughts and will occasionally vent on this blog, if you’d like to avoid seeing that block the tags (#tw self harm) and (#tw sui ideation)

A detailed list of fandoms/my interests can be found below!

-Movies/Shows-

Hannibal (the show and all movies, manhunter included)

Saw 

Sweeny Todd (2007)

The Crow (1994)

The Thing (1982)

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)

Land of the Lost (1974)

Tremors (1990)

Coraline

Star Trek (specifically from 1966)

M*A*S*H (1972)

Dawn of the Dead (2004)

Apocalypse Now (1979)

The Truman Show 

Saving Private Ryan (1998)

JoJo Rabbit

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930, the new one is also good however I prefer the original)

Dunkirk

Band of Brothers (2001)

Downfall/Der Untergang 

Inglorious Bastards

Full metal jacket (1987)

Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

Look who’s back/Er Ist Wieder Da (political commentary portrayed as comedy my beloved, the book is even better)

(I’m a massive old/war movie fan and I always take suggestions for new ones!! )

-Books-

Maus

Look who’s back

Paradise Lost

Paradise Regained

The Divine Comedy 

All Quiet on the Western Front

1984

Animal Farm

Catch-22

Crime and Punishment 

Jurassic park

The Lost World 

The Book Thief

Hannibal (all four books)

The Hunger Games

(And more)

-Music-

The Crane Wives

Swear and Shake

The Oh Hellos

Hozier

Modest Mouse

Gregory Alan Isakov

Kimya Dawson

Noah Kahan 

Iron & Wine

The Mountain Goats

Johnny Cash

Saintseneca

Radical Face

Alex G

Rammstein 

Ghost (bc)

Mitski

Mumford & Sons

Fiona Apple

Big Thief 

Florence + The Machine 

The Hunts

Radiohead

Little Chief 

Roar

(And more but this list is already long)

-Games-

FNAF (Been a fan since 2014 baby!)

LOZ (BOTW, TOTK, Skyward Sword and Twilight Princess mainly)

Night in the woods

Fran bow 

What remains of Edith Finch

Stardew Valley 

MW2

Red Dead Redemption

FAITH: The Unholy Trinity

Fears to Fathom

Red Dead Redemption

(Just the main ones I’ll talk about)

-Misc (Mostly YouTube based stuff)-

Hazbin Hotel (since pre pilot days)

Angel Hare 

Local 58

Gemini Home Entertainment

Mandela catalog

Mystery Flesh Pit

Graylock 

Vita Carnis

Happy Meat Farms

Welcome To Nightvale

The Magnus Archives 

Creep Cast 

The Red Thread

-YouTubers-

Wendigoon

ESOTERICA 

Jacksepticeye

Markiplier

Sam O’nella 

GTLive 

Game theory (and all attached channels)

Watcher

HasanAbi

Penguinz0

-Hobbies-

Crochet

Knitting (although I’m not very good yet I do still enjoy it!)

Quilting

Hiking (I love, LOVE being out in nature, I’d die in the city)

Witchcraft

Writing (both my own stories and fan fiction)

Bushcraft 

Archery/making bows (I’m not great at it yet but practice makes perfect!)

Art (painting and digital)

Foraging (both for food and medicine purposes)

Folk medicine/medicinal herbs (just small stuff for myself right now, I’m not confident enough in my skills yet)

Herping (I keep a notebook full of native species I’ve found out on my walks, especially snakes)

Collecting bones, pelts, and other animal parts

Bird watching

Hunting/Trapping (I put this in hobbies because I do enjoy doing it, however I only hunt for food and use every part of the animal)

#langblr #aroace #loveless aroace #introducing myself #therianthropy #therian #otherkin #alterhumanity #alterhuman #norse pagan witch #practicing witchcraft #I’m a sucker for military movies #angelkin #actually angelic #i’ll add more tags later

[from-a-legends-pov]

Star Wars Legends Highlight of the Week: Razor’s Edge by Martha Wells

This is a new feature where a fan will share one thing they love from Star Wars Legends – a book, a comic, an author, a character, an event, or anything else they want to highlight – and tell us more about it.

If you, too, love Legends, follow @from-a-legends-pov and check out our upcoming Star Wars Legends fanfiction event, From a Legends Point of View, HERE. Signups open April 28 – please encourage your favorite Star Wars writers to participate!

Today’s highlight is Razor’s Edge (also known as Empire and Rebellion: Razor’s Edge) by Martha Wells (yes, that Martha Wells, for all you Murderbot fans out there), a 2013 Legends novel, and we’re talking with @lajulie24.

Tell us about your Legends highlight. What is it? What’s it about?

Razor’s Edge is a novel set between Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back centered on Leia Organa. Leia, Han, and a group of other Rebels are on a mission for the Alliance when they are attacked by Imperials (led to them by an Imperial in the Rebels’ ranks). They flee into pirate-controlled space, where they encounter a ship of Alderaanians who survived the disaster, became pirates, and are now severely in debt to the Lorrdian pirate leader, Viest. Basically Leia needs to figure out how to protect her surviving shipmates, complete her mission, help the Alderaanians (who have pretty mixed feelings about Leia and don’t particularly want to be helped or give up their pirate lifestyle), and keep from being killed or turned over to the Empire should Viest figure out her true identity. Oh, and there’s also the matter of her growing attraction to Han (who is in ride-or-die mode when it comes to Leia already, even though they are ostensibly just friends), her guilt and grief over Alderaan, and her internal conflict over her commitment to the Rebellion.

Why is this a Legends highlight for you? What do you love about it?

Leia has always been one of my favorite characters, and I love that she gets her own spotlight in this book. She’s also written very well – she’s smart, capable, devoted to her cause and to the people she cares about, and at the same time she makes mistakes, she fails, and she struggles with her loyalties to the Rebellion, to Alderaan, to her friends, and to herself. Like me, Martha Wells is a HanLeia shipper (and she’s a former HanLeia fanfiction writer), and many of the scenes in this book have a fanfiction-y flavor to them, such as a UST-filled strategy conversation they have in the ship’s ‘fresher. You can literally see Han and Leia falling in love with each other, see the friendship and trust they have with each other, but that’s happening in the background while the action of the plot is in the foreground – and it’s a fun, intricately designed story, with lots of schemes, betrayals, rescues, and action sequences. Han and the new original characters are also very well written. I also like that the fights and action sequences feel real, with real stakes; for instance, there’s an attack early on in the book and we see that several Rebels have died and Leia’s trying to help the others even though she has a concussion and a splitting headache and isn’t able to think very straight.

Favorite moment?

Hard to choose, but there’s a lovely quiet moment toward the end of the book, where Han and Leia are waiting together to see if their ally will accept Leia’s offer, and it’s not looking good. It brings together a bunch of the themes of the book and also shows their care for each other as well as for the cause.

And of course, there’s my favorite quotation from this book: “Good luck, crazy human lady. It was fun destroying things with you.”

To learn more….

If you’d like to read more about Razor’s Edge, you can check out its page on Wookieepedia or find the novel at your favorite library or used bookstore (it no longer seems to be in print for new copies, sadly).

And be sure to check out @from-a-legends-pov and our From a Legends Point of View fanfiction event; as another reminder, signups open April 28, 2024!

#star wars legends #star wars eu #star wars extended universe #from a legends pov #legends highlight of the week #razor’s edge #martha wells #leia organa #han solo #han x leia #hanleia #Star Wars #lajulie24

[martianbugsbunny]

Kay babes, I already posted a salty kinda tongue-in-cheek thing about Kalluzeb, in context of *MANDO SPOILERS* Zeb appearing sans Kallus in the Mandalorian. Because in honesty, he should be on Lira San with Kallus enjoying retirement, but I have no beef with him doing whatever it is he’s doing other than the part where he’s doing it without Kallus, because that is a huge red flag for me.

I thought I would have to worry about the following issues when it came to Ahsoka, but I guess they’re either setting him up for an appearance in that or they’ve decided to explore his post-Empire story in Mando, which is fine. If ye be free of indignation about Kalluzeb/Zeb just being gay, read on! If you’re an apple riddled with the worms of homophobia or if you’re very strongly anti-Kalluzeb, then this is not the post for you, and I would rather you just left now than got mad at me in the comments.

I’m going to specifically discuss this in terms of Ahsoka first, because I’ve had this in my drafts for months, so I wrote it before Zeb getting no-homo’d was a present and immediate danger. This may not be the best-written I’ve ever produced, but it is fairly logical, so please take it in context of the first section being written months ago, and the last section as being written today, and then you’ll be sitting pretty.

So it’s basically common knowledge at this point that Hera and Sabine will appear in some capacity in Ahsoka, and probably going to be in contact with our queen herself. I have doubts that Zeb will be a significant part of the show; maybe a cameo here or there, or they mention him but he stays off-screen. If Hera/Sabine gets off a comm in the back of their spaceship and Ahsoka’s like “hey, who was that?” and Hera/Sabine says, “just checking in with Zeb,” there is a choice. And because I have no faith in anyone to canonize Kalluzeb, this is what feels much more likely to happen: The writers will either throw in a single line after that (such as Ahsoka replying with “oh, cool, how’s his wife?”) or there will be no mention of a spouse. And believe you me, there is literally no reason that Zeb, who would be off-screen at that moment, and whose Rebels ending involved no female Lasat, should have a wife for that throwaway moment. It adds nothing to his story and it would be completely out of nowhere, probably never to be explored again. Mentioning a wife would literally just be the galaxy’s biggest, flashing-neon “no homo” (or, in Star Wars terms, you might say that he got Zorii Bliss-ed). There’s no reason to do it. Not saying he has a wife technically doesn’t even disprove the concept that he might have a wife *sarcastic snort*. So if something like that does end up in Ahsoka, we all know why. There is legitimately no other reason to add in a throwaway line like that other than to disprove the concept of Kalluzeb. Or maybe just to disprove the concept that Zeb is gay. I would honestly rather they never mentioned Zeb at all, even in passing, than throwing that kinda thing in our faces. There is no reason to disprove it. Leaving Zeb with a slightly ambiguous relationship poses no problem. No plot hole. No loose end in desperate need of tying up. There is no reason to officially, explicitly de-canonize Kalluzeb or gay Zeb, because there is no significant woman in his life he might possibly have a solid, built-up, understandable relationship with, and because his most significant person (I would argue) is a man. I can’t say it enough. This is the test. Either we get Zorii Bliss-ed again, or Zeb gets to continue enjoying the grey space. (Because I don’t have enough faith in Filoni, the man who still has not made Ahsoka a splesbian [lesbian in space] to canonize arguably one of the most dramatic potential romances in Star Wars history. Even though Kalluzeb makes sense. Even though Kallus’s entire reformation arc is started by Zeb. Even though in his little screen time as a Rebel, it is still obviously Zeb who means the most to him out of all the Specters. Even though Zeb, who is often portrayed as being kind of rough, is much kinder and more honorable towards Kallus than he deserves, before they’re on the same side.)

In context of Mando, the same rules apply. There is no need to mention him having a wife. There isn’t any urgent need to even explicitly canonize Kalluzeb, other than the fact that Star Wars needs to improve its queer representation by leaps and bounds to get up to standards, and also that Kalluzeb makes a whole lot of sense. I am terrified of him existing in post-Rebels media because thus far, he is without Kallus, and with the way their Rebels storyline ended, there’s really no reason he should be. Kallus should be by his side.

UNLESS Kallus is A) currently enjoying retirement on Lira San, and Zeb is off-world for short periods of time every now and then but goes home to Lira San and Kallus or B) they’re saving Kallus for a moment when Kallus shows up late to whatever business he and Zeb have and we get a quiet, “hey, husband of mine” and there’s no fanfare, no Zorii Bliss situation, just two gay dudes being married and living their lives together.

This is it. This is where I find out if it’s even crossed Filoni’s mind (or the minds of other miscellaneous writers, but he really sticks to his characters) to leave our plausible couple be. This is where I find out if his viewpoint of *paraphrased* “it wasn’t my intention, but I won’t de-canonize it” (https://gizmodo.com/star-wars-rebels-producer-dave-filoni-is-totally-fine-w-1823593680) holds up if he’s going to explore characters close to Zeb (which includes Kallus) post-Rebels.

#ahsoka #kalluzeb #garazeb orrelios #Dave filoni #Star Wars rebels #sorry this is so rambly-bambly #but if you understand the gist it's all good #the mandalorian #mando spoilers #love you kalluzeb nation #y'all are rockstars #Alexsandr Kallus #anti zorii bliss #get all your lucky clovers and horseshoes together #and don't you dare break a mirror or walk under a ladder #because if we want zen to not get zorii blissed we need a whole lot of luck #throw in your personal lucky items like pennies or what have you to manifest canon kalluzeb #as unlikely as it may seem and as bitter and salty as I may sound #I still hope it's going to happen #if you made it to the end of the post (or the tags) congrats! here's a virtual high-five #*slaps your hand gently*

[restwellsoon]

Jason Todd’s Masterlist

Return to the Main Masterlist

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact or follow! You will be blocked!

Legend

♡ fluff  ❣ smut ▽ hurt/comfort ◆ tw/kink, please read fic notes/ tags

Sweet One Shots & Drabbles

alive and well ♡

Sundays Down the Aisle ♡

The Sky is Grey ♡ ▽

Corn Dogs & Kissing Booths ♡

hallelujah ♡ ▽

Spicy One Shots & Drabbles

Playmates ❣ ◆

Sir ❣ ◆

Sea Foam on Your Skin ❣ ▽ ◆

under your (dry) spell ❣ ◆

Unholy Confessions ❣ ◆

Since I Ever Was Your Star ❣ ◆

Fire & Envy ❣

Introductions ❣

Dressed in White ❣

Call Out My Name ❣ ◆

The Dream of the Astronaut’s Lover ❣ ◆

Check out the tags for specific content  

x Reader

xM!Reader

x GN!Reader

Smut

HCs

AO3 Exclusives!

amor vincit omnia ❣ ▽ ◆

Direct link to AO3 here!

Status | in progress!

Summary: As the goddess of love, it only makes sense that you should feel at odds with the god of war. After all, the two domains appear to be on opposite ends of the spectrum. Chance encounters while working lead to a growing curiosity about this hated god, and soon the two of you become a topic of gossip not only in Olympus but in the mortal realm as well.

“I appreciate your decorum, but you needn’t be so polite with me. I’m used to the rugged language of the battlefield. If this is your way of kindly telling me to fuck off, speak plainly, so we don’t waste our time.”

Ares’ banter drew a smile out of you, his brusque manner of speech refreshing from all of the niceties you exchanged tonight. Twisting, you rested your back against the railing, propping yourself upright with your elbows as you spoke with tease.

“Sweet god, do you know who you’re speaking to?” You shot your most charming smile at him in case he forgot. “When the goddess of love commands you to fuck, you may end up in a wildly different situation than intended.”

Stake Your Claim ❣ ▽ ◆

Direct link to AO3 here!

Status | COMPLETE!

Summary: In a desperate attempt to improve your social status, you sneak into a wane gala in the hopes of getting turned by a vampire. Anything was better than being an omega and a base. Instead of getting turned, you meet a werewolf who’s determined to show you what you’re truly worth.

“Do you like to play with your food before you eat it?” You asked, trying to wash away the bitterness that Jason brought out. He seemed to hit all the sensitive parts of you, your insecurities and your weaknesses.

Finishing his drink, he set the glass down with a loud clunk. Instead of using his hand, his tongue peaked out to lap at the stray droplet on his lip, his eyes never leaving yours until he winked. “Isn’t that why it’s called foreplay, sweetness?”

Words with Friends ♡ ❣ ▽ ◆

Direct link to AO3 here!

Status | COMPLETE!

Summary: Jason Todd was someone you’d consider an acquaintance at best, having run in similar crowds during college. After meeting at a gala, you’re surprised to learn how much he’s changed since then, especially when he makes a proposal that the two of you should have sex.

“I’m just trying to get laid, have fun and do some kinky shit. Maybe even have a few good memories to look back on when I’m old and my dick isn’t working anymore. And -don’t let this get to your head now- for whatever reason, I feel comfortable doing this with you.”

The Spaces Between Us ❣ ▽ ◆

Direct link to AO3 here!

Status | COMPLETE!

Summary: The Red Hood has been on your tail for months. Confrontations get heated with each meeting. What seems hopeless finally becomes hopeful when he ambushes you in your safe house.

A kiss, crushing and desperate. Your hand pressed against the back of his head to keep him there. It was a kiss that left your mouth red. Red like the color of passion. Red like the color of guilt. Red like the color of anger. A kiss that reminded you of Red, the man who didn’t love you

Dripping in Gold  ❣ ▽ ◆

Direct link to AO3 here!

Status | COMPLETE!

Summary: A sequel to The Spaces Between Us. You filled in the parts of yourself that left you broken with   forgiveness. But as life moves on, there’s someone out there who wants   to know if there’s space for reconciliation. Someone who’s refusing to   be known as Red anymore. Someone by the name of Jason Todd.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a draw, a deadlock. Fights in the past weren’t easily erased. You could still make out the words as you slept, your mind filling in the parts that were scratched out. It couldn’t be remembered as it was but it was feelings not facts that were key to relationships.

#jason todd x reader #rest writes #rest writes! ...on AO3 only #jason todd smut

[terrible-titles]

A Hodepodge of Older Shows to Watch During the Strike

We support the writer’s strike here, and in a Culture of New, TV execs are going to use the “impact” to currently running shows in order to try to shift your support to them. But here in Tumblr we have revived century-old novels and put them firmly in the mainstream by having a Tumblr-wide bookclub, so I think we can do the same to older shows--not only to keep ourselves entertained, but to remind us all why writers are so important to begin with. Now that AI is coming dangerously close to replacing writers’ work (and is indeed one of the issues the writers are striking over), I think it’s important to remember that our favorite lines (one of mine is “Everything is confetti” from Haunting of Hill House) couldn’t have happened without a writer creating and then fighting for it. Writers deserve healthy workplaces, fair compensation, and recognition for their talent.

Disclaimers: 1. As with all shows, but especially older ones, there will be problematic content. 2. I will try to avoid obvious recs that still have an active fanbase like Star Trek or Buffy, but I don’t have my finger on the pulse of pop culture so maybe I rec something that’s still pretty popular and I don’t realize it. I’m also not necessarily going for “obscure” or “you’ve never heard of this,” but just shows people might have overlooked. Yes, I’m from the US (sorry!) and yes, I would love to hear from non-US people about the best shows from your country that I’m missing out on! Please feel free to reblog and add your favorites to this!   3. Maybe my taste doesn’t align with yours and you disagree. Maybe I missed something because I didn’t want this to be 500 pages long. That’s fine! Again, reblog with your own recs. The more, the better! 4. Genres are weird. I tried. 5. I chose not to add where you could find these series because it can vary country to country, but if all else fails, check your local library’s media collection! (And if that fails, you might sail the seas...) 6. Please be cool... please. 

Comedies

Better Off Ted (2009, 2 seasons) A workplace comedy in an evil corporation. Perfect for fans of The Office or Arrested Development. Happy Endings (2011, 3 seasons) It’s like if Friends was just every so slightly more diverse. Takes place in Chicago, which is cool.

M*A*S*H (1972, 11 seasons) You’ve probably heard of this comedy/drama that stars cultural icon Alan Alda as a cynical army medic just trying to survive the Korean War, but have you watched it yet? You should.

NewsRadio (1995, 5 seasons) A workplace comedy in a news radio station starring Phil Hartman. A less cringy Office and a less sophisticated Frasier. Vicar of Dibley (1994, 3 series + specials) Dawn French plays the first-ever female vicar in a small English village. Watch out for an utterly amazing Spice Girls reference and Richard Armitage. Keeping Up Appearances (1990, 5 series) A British woman from a lower class family attempts to social climb to predictably hilarious results. Was apparently one of the Queen Mother’s favorite shows though I can’t for the life of me figure out what she got from it.

You’re the Worst (2014, 5 seasons) Just two really toxic people in a relationship trying to make it work. Definitely has dramatic undertones in addition to being pretty funny.

Side note: If you like comedy, get a subscription to Dropout TV. I’m not a shill. Nobody’s paying me to say this. I just really love it and they’re a great company to support.  Science Fiction/Supernatural

Babylon 5 (1994, 5 seasons) Was Deep Space Nine your favorite Star Trek series? Watch this. (Watch it even if it wasn’t.)

Sliders (1995, 5 seasons) An updated Quantum Leap. Jerry O’Connell and John Rhys-Davies star. A couple of scientists and their unfortunate friends are stuck sliding between alternate universes trying to find their way home.

Wynonna Earp (2016, 4 seasons) The great-great granddaughter of Wyatt Earp is tasked with sending reincarnated outlaws back to Hell. Often called the spiritual successor to Buffy, this is a real campy adventure in the Wild West and everything Supernatural wished it could be. 

Lost Girl (2010, 5 seasons) This show is about a bisexual succubus named Bo. I don’t know what else you need to watch this.

Drama

The Darling Buds of May (1991, 3 series) The British Little House on the Prairie if Pa were a con man you like to root for. An early Catherine Zeta-Jones stars as the oldest daughter who kidnaps and marries a tax inspector in order to avoid paying taxes. Incredible. Icon.  

Midsomer Murders (1997, 24+ series) Technically, this one is still going (and I’m sure everyone’s heard of it), but there’s so many back episodes to get through, I still feel okay recommending it because it’s great for binge-watching when you’re sick. You’ll never run out of episodes. Cozy murder mysteries that take place in England’s most deadly village. Joyce deserves better.

In the Heat of the Night (1988, 7 seasons + films) A crime procedural in the Deep South in the US, a big city Black detective is hired as the head detective in a small town in rural Mississippi. Progressive (for its time), this show dealt with racial issues, police corruption, poverty, and more.

Six Feet Under (2001, 5 seasons) Two brothers work together to run the family business, a funeral home, in the wake of their father’s death. The show’s finale is considered one of the greatest of all time, so you can go in having confidence in a satisfying conclusion.

Historical Fiction/Fantasy

Rome (2005, 2 seasons) A collaboration between HBO and BBC, one of the most expensive series of its time. Has so many incredible character actors. You will constantly be on your phone asking where you recognize That Guy from. Polly Walker was instrumental in my discovering my sexuality. 

Xena: Warrior Princess (1995, 6 seasons) Okay, I know this is another popular one, but it also feels like a show people have heard of and never watched, so this is your reminder to do so. Brideshead Revisited (1981, 1 series) British schoolboys doing what schoolboys do best (falling in love with each other). Adaptation of Evelyn Waugh’s novel by the same name. Galavant (2015, 2 seasons) Hilarious musical comedy about a downtrodden knight trying to rescue his girlfriend from King Richard, even though she is actually pretty happy being Queen. Catchiest theme ever. SUPPORT WRITERS.

#wga strike #writers strike #tv recommendations #what to watch #long post

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dreomione Fest (Part 2)

Dreomione Fest 2023:

What Strange Bedfellows We Make by Forgive_Me_Severus - E, WIP - Three and a half years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger finds herself angry, bitter, and missing her left leg. Having become disenchanted with the Order of the Phoenix - and Kingsley Shacklebolt's frustrating unwillingness to tell her anything - the feelings only increase when she's ordered to act as companion for the Order's most important spy, Draco Malfoy. But what she will discover while at a remote safe house nestled comfortably in a Scottish Highlands forest will change her life forever. 

Accidents Corporeal and Copulative by Art_emis - E, 6 chapters - Hermione is hanging the washing, Draco is out for an evening stroll and Theo, well… he’s been left to his Arithmancy in favor of a more hands on equation that needs solving.An unplanned romp in the fresh linens leads to reminiscing over the triad’s first time skinny dipping and an even more creative reenactment.

Written in the Stars by SarahFraser - E, WIP - A five-year relationship between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy end in heartbreak after Draco's engagement to Astoria Greengrass hits the news. With her life in shambles, Hermione is trying to figure out what she needs to do next, when on the eve of his wedding, Draco shows up at her house. After giving into her heart once more, Hermione flees to France the next morning after seeing Draco and Astoria's wedding picture.Fifteen years later, there is an attack by a group of Dark Wizards in Paris while Scorpius Malfoy is there vacationing with his mother. Being a squib, the teenage boy is defenseless in the face of danger but is save from a stray spell by Lyra Granger, a girl with wild white curls and looks eerily like him. Upon being taken into protective custody by the French Aurors, the two teens are stuck waiting for their parents. When Scorpius's father and his husband, Theo Nott, arrive they are shocked to see Hermione picking up her daughter.The pieces are put together and quickly the wizards realise that Hermione isn't as dead as they had thought she was, and when she'd left England, she'd taken something of Draco's with her.

Changeling child by PenNameUnknown - G, WIP - It had started with trying to convince her sister to flee with her son and his friend should anything happen to her.But then the boys made a friend and it was much better for them to rebel and not be underfoot.Only now she's kidnapped a severely neglected Muggle girl and hoping Severus will forgive her.Rating and tags subject to change. Will warn you in advance

Constellations of Secrets by Ceilidhchaos - E, WIP - Hermione, Theo and Draco kept their relationship and family secret for more than ten years, but it is finally revealed after they are discovered by Hermione's former best friend Harry Potter. After eliciting a Wizard's Vow from Harry Potter to treat all students at Hogwarts fairly regardless of House, Draco, Theo and Hermione finally agree to allow Lyra, their eldest daughter, to attend Hogwarts. Four years later, Lyra is dating James Sirius and Paige Parkinson-Zabini in a triad of her own. Her little brother Scorpius has also fallen for a Potter. The Weasleys don't take this well.

Until My Soul Is Washed Anew by sobsinashell - M, WIP - For all his life, Theodore Nott has been plagued with nightmares and strange dreams. As the second Wizarding War continues to take over the country, these dreams begin to make connections with reality to reveal some of the darkest secrets known to wizarding kind.

The Four Fs by ThornedHuntress - E, WIP - Every living creature is driven by biological urges colloquially known as the Four Fs. Fighting. Feeding. Fucking. And… Flying?It’s no secret that Hermione Granger has never been a particular fan of Quidditch. But when the Derbyshire Dragons offer her a position as the team’s healer, in return for a blank check for her research, she’s not about to let the attentions of one man derail her, let alone two. No matter how tempting they may be.

In Our Power by babyKay61822 - E, WIP - The war had ended. Draco and Theo were happy. The world was safe and the heros had emerged victorious. That was, until the Golden Girl began fading from view, disappearing from society, only to turn up at St. Mungos bloody, bruised and broken.The boys decided they would never let her feel that pain again. Not if they could help it. And the only way to fix it was to change her life. They would have to start from the beginning of the end.

Protect Them, Protect Her by chococrepe - not rated, WIP - This story takes place during the book of ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince’.Hermione J. Granger found herself caught up in a regrettable situation. Overwhelmed by stress, she made an unfortunate choice to indulge in alcohol during a social gathering hosted by her dentist parents. In a disoriented state, she unintentionally wandered into the bustling streets of Muggle London. Eventually, she was taken to a hotel, where she later awakened to unfamiliar desires, leading her to engage in intimate encounters with both Draco L. Malfoy and Theodore T. Nott. But that night was just the beginning of more, the three of them now hold a secret, a secret that can not ever escape.

the StarChild by AuroraNyx - E, WIP - no summary

Invitations by RoseDeVents - E, WIP - ~You are cordially invitedto read a story aboutHermione Granger's soul bondto two men who are not Ronald Weasley.It all finally makes senseto Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoywho have been quietly pining for hersince they were children.RSVP 'Yes' to a soul bond storythat no one saw coming– except the person who wrote the prompt –written for Dreomione Fest 2023.~

Alexandrite Trio by PenNameUnknown - not rated, WIP - A very different trio is formed when Draco and Theo rescue a crying witch from the troll.

I'll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by nyquilsquirrel - M, one-shot -  Hermione has a date. Well, not if Theo and Draco have a say in the matter.

Oblivion by Sniper_Jade - M, WIP - When the Wizengamot imprisoned Draco Malfoy he thought they would have thrown away the key. It certainly felt like it after five years in Azkaban with the cold seeping into his bones as though he had never had a warm day in his life.He never expected Hermione Granger to show up with an impossible proposition that could change it all.No one expects a suicide mission to the moon.

A New Start by ghanima77 - T, 5 chapters - Left weak and without magic after the war, Hermione is sent to the Fernwood Institute to convalesce alone for her remaining days, or so she thinks. She soon discovers that she won't be quite so alone, and opportunity is plentiful. Now she just has to be brave enough to take a chance.

Spice Up Your Life by starboygrove - M, WIP - Hermione is tasked with overseeing the Muggle Studies education of the only returning Slytherin students for their 8th year at Hogwarts; with her new responsibility comes an unexpected outing in Muggle London, one that will change all of their lives forever.

It Was Mine First by MirabelleCherry - E, WIP - Starting a new department was never something Hermione had considered, her activist tendencies thoroughly devoted to helping House Elves and other magical creatures, but when Harry absently spoke of the horrors he had been raised in, a spark formed and she hadn't been able to ignore it. No child should ever have to go through that, and if she had her way, they wouldn’t.

The Catalogue by pomegranate_seed - E, WIP - So many beautiful women.No. Not women.Cows.Pretty little hucow wives looking for their forever home.

Just Rent a Daddy When You Need Help... or two? by Mariana_Monteverde - T, one-shot - It all started back at Hogwarts, but it was necessary for a little girl to learn to fly, for three Unspeakables to find themselves again.

CHAOS from the Ashes by girl_friday13 - M, WIP - Six years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Head Investigator and Death Eater Theodore Nott discovers an odd device while interrogating a Muggle suspected of aiding the Order of the Phoenix.No one knows how the Order of the Phoenix managed to regroup in the years since the Dark Lord took over all of Britain, but Theo suspects this “smartphone” might provide him with some answers.That is, if he can fully infiltrate the forum known as “The CHAOS Network.”To do that, he’s going to have to cozy up to the person he knows to be responsible for the Network’s origins, the user known as “the1withthehair.”Aka. Hermione Granger.

Next Time Around by ObsessivelyReading - M, WIP - It's 12 years after the war and Draco, Hermione, and Theo are happily married. Until the letters start coming. Draco and Theo have been getting letters for months being blackmailed and threatened, being told their relationship needs to end. They don't tell anyone, not even each other as they try and figure out who is threatening them and how they can stay together. After an attack at the ministry almost claims Theo and Hermione, Draco decides to take matters into his own hands. He will do anything to protect them, even if it means leaving them.Even after giving into their demands, the outcome is not one anyone was expecting. Will this be their chance to start over?

Don't Wait Up by slytherindiaries - E, one-shot - The clink of the door unlocking has relief flooding her veins. He’s here. He made it.The bedroom door opens and Draco stands in the doorway, taking in the scene. His eyes are wide as they land on Hermione and slide over to his—former, presumably—best friend.“Theodore.” Draco tsks, shaking his head slowly as if disappointed. “You started without me.”“Draco, what—what are you talking about?” Hermione’s pulse is racing, the dam of her emotions threatening to break just under the surface. “Theo—he—he’s trying to—to—”Her husband laughs cruelly, a sound she hasn’t heard from him since their years at Hogwarts. It’s mocking, vicious. “Oh, baby. You thought I would come save you?”

Draco Malfoy and the War on Polyester by AlaskaDiGioia - E, one-shot - Ron accuses Hermione of having an affair with Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott for the last time. She's a single witch and can do whoever she wants.

Afternoon Repose by oceanxpoppy - E, one-shot - Hermione lets her mind drift peacefully under her husbands' careful attention.orHermione, Draco, and Theo enjoy the afternoon on the first day of their honeymoon. PWP.

Loving the Death's Heirs by LadyBlack3 - E, WIP - Some people would call her life boring, but that was changing very quickly. Who could have foreseen Hermione would be sitting in her kitchen at half past six in the morning, working on her puzzle with one of the most famous British drummers of the decade, while his band is threatened by a stalker turned deadly adversary? Let the chase begin. If only she knew how to safeguard her heart with three rock stars in her home..

The Time is Now by ChelsieWhitlock - E, one-shot - Hermione has been waiting, watching as life passes her by, until it's almost too late. She seizes that famous courage, and walks right up to Theo and Draco to shoot her shot, and is pleasantly surprised by the outcome. Draco and Theo have an existing relationship, but are excited to have her join in the fun.

(all I know since yesterday is) everything has changed by AuroraNyx - E, WIP - Hermione wakes up a Tuesday morning & everything seems normal. It's not until she floos into the Ministry of Magic to start her work day that the chaos begins.Is everyone in the Ministry just thinking about sex all day long? And since when have Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott thought those kind of things ABOUT HER?!?!

Finding the Gryffindor Princess by EmilieJane - E, 7 chapters - *inspired from the film Anastasia*In exile, Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott stumble upon a woman with an uncanny likeliness to one missing Hermione Granger... but she has no memory of being a witch.The Ministry is offering a one million galleon reward for finding the lost Gryffindor princess and, in turn, the restoration of the Malfoy and Nott family name.They just need her to come back to Britain.Easier said than done.

Consequences of Meddling With Time by PenNameUnknown - E, WIP - The war is lost. The Order whittled down to three members who, out of desperation, attempted to run into the past to save their world's future.They just didn't expect to be quite so young. Or the consequences they faced for doing so. The biggest of them being surviving being forced into divination. But the plan is clear. One way or another, the Dark Lord would be mortal before he went for the Potters if he was not dead already.Note: I am taking certain liberties understandably.

Eleanor by SarahFraser - E, 12 chapters - Following the war, Theo Nott was struggling to find a place for himself in England. After sitting his NEWTs with Draco Malfoy in the summer of 1998, Theo found himself accepted to a Charms Mastery program in America. It sounded like a dream come true. The only problem? Draco was on probation for his part in the war and unable to leave the country for four years. Seeking refuge away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world at a club in muggle London to celebrate his last night in England, Theo finds himself having a wild hookup with a random sexy muggle girl. Only, she isn't some random girl, and she most certainly isn't a muggle.Four years later, Theo is back from America, and Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have a daughter. Who for some reason has his eyes...

A Dream Breaking by Ceilidhchaos - E, WIP - no summary

Death Becomes Us by swoonbaby - E, WIP - Hermione Granger is dead. Draco would know, he was there when it happened. She was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts over twenty years prior and her body was burned along with all the others. He knows this to be true.So why, then, does he find himself standing in a tavern in Ireland staring at a woman that is unmistakably Hermione Granger? A woman, he might add, that doesn't look a day over eighteen.Perhaps he wasn't the only one that met his death and lived to tell the tale.

Forsaken by KiraAnn (Know_It_All_2008) - E, WIP - Hermione's been taken as a prisoner of war. The Dark Lord gifts her to Draco and Theo as a present for services rendered.This is a Dead Dove; please read the tags.

meeting mr and mrs granger by riddikulus_puff - M, 2 chapters - Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Hermione Granger had been dating as a triad for almost over a year at this point and the boys had yet to meet Hermione's infamously strict mother and father. There was such a high spike of anxiety for the three of them regarding meeting the parents and Hermione really didn't want to put her boys through that pain-filled anxiety and nerves. The three of them had felt the same when properly meeting Draco's mother and father to announce that they were a couple, and had felt a similar feeling when meeting Theodore's abusive father before his death in Azkaban prison. Hermione was anxiously unsure whether her parents would even accept the fact that she was dating two young men instead of just the normal one-loving partner. The pain and worry for the young woman was Hermione's father, Richard Granger. The triad wasn't ready for this but it was happening, they could do nothing to stop the upcoming dinner party that the three had been invited to. Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott were finally going to be meeting Mr and Mrs Granger.

Ours by Draco_is_daddy66 - E, 2 chapters - When Harry dies in the forbidden forest the members of the Order of the Phoenix are captured and held prisoner at Malfoy manor. The men are quickly killed, and after a year the women are divided among the Dark Lords' most loyal, Draco and Theo will only accept one witch, Hermione Granger. When the dark lord declares that the men who own women must breed them, Draco and Theo are more than happy to breed their good girl.

Lattes of Love by nissasxnotes - G, WIP - Hermione Granger dreads the cafe opening at The Book Nook each summer. She's been dealing with frat boys who show up late and don't put in any effort for the past few summers. She already knows this summer will be the same.However, this summer, the two boys hired show up early on their first day, taking Hermione by surprise. And as she gets to know them, she learns they might be different from all the others before them.

Dragon Con '19 by swoonbaby - M, WIP - When Draco comes across a colourful advert for the upcoming "Dragon Con", a brilliant idea is born.What better birthday gift to give the witch of his dreams than tickets to a convention for dragonologists in America? Educational and fun? Hermione will be thrilled! And if the reservation his secretary made was in a muggle hotel, then so be it, they would manage.He was most excited for the parade, as the brochure advertised, though how they intended to have a parade of dragons in the middle of a major muggle city was a mystery to him.But who in Salazar's name is this David Tennant bloke that Hermione professed to be in love with? Why does Theo have a bright green unitard in his luggage? And what exactly is a Targary-whatever and why do they think he looks like one?

This fest is ongoing.

#dreomione fest #fests/exchanges/challenges #triad: draco x hermione x theo #dramione #theomione

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part ii- the star-spangled man with a plan

“i’m fed up to the ears of old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in” -george mcgovern

summary: the trio is separated. you as a nurse, bucky as a sergeant, and steve… well, you thought he’d stay home. guess not.

wordcount: 4.2k

warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of racism and sexism, bucky in catfa (help him pls), secondhand embarrassment from steve’s uso shows

a/n: ugh 😩 why are all of the movies from the captain america trilogy so unfairly good? but also someone pls give these super soldiers a hug they need it. ps, my requests are open!

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll

previous part | series masterlist | next part

Two weeks was nowhere near long enough to soak up your remaining time with Steve and Bucky. You managed to squeeze in a few special occasions, including a trip to Coney Island, a baking spree that provided the blond enough food for months, and today, your last day, the World Exposition of Tomorrow.

You worriedly huffed as you and Bucky scanned the streets, eyes sharp as you searched for Steve. He had been at the movie theater, but a quick peek inside proved futile.

“Check the alley,” you grumbled, turning the corner to see a larger man knock your friend to the ground. Bucky rushed forward, grabbing the offender with a quick, “Hey!”

“Pick on someone your own size,” he spat, tossing him back closer to you. You watched with mild interest as the man tried to throw a punch, which was nimbly dodged before Bucky socked him in the jaw. As he reeled, the brunet turned to you. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Grinning and gathering up your skirt, you moved behind the jackass. “I thought you would never ask.” With a swift kick to his backside, the man stumbled off, physically and emotionally bruised.

Exchanging exasperated glances, the two of you went back for Steve.

“Sometimes I think you like getting punched,” Bucky sighed, helping the smaller man up. You crossed your arms.

Steve winced as he wiped his nose. “I had him on the ropes.” Scoffing, you kick the discarded enlistment form on the ground. He’d been illegally trying to enlist for weeks. “Sure you did. How many times is this?”

“Oh, you’re from Paramus now?” Ignoring your friend’s words, the blond wiped dirt from his hands. “You know it’s illegal to lie on an enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”

Finally, Steve looked up, spotting Bucky in full uniform, ridiculous hat and all. “You get your orders?”

A moment of hesitation. The tension in his shoulders. For a moment, you thought Bucky might tell him the truth.

But then he bounced on the balls of his feet like he couldn’t wait to leave, gave him a cocky grin, and prattled off his title.

“The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England, first thing tomorrow.”

It physically pained you.

Steve nodded to you, silently asking the same question. “Same here,” you said. “Not going to the same camp, though.” You frowned a bit.

“I should be going,” he said decisively. With a chuckle, Bucky grabbed him by one shoulder as you kept pace on the other side.

“Come on, man. Our last night! We’ve gotta get you cleaned up.” He eyed the oversized jacket that was now smudged with dirt.

“Why? Where are we going?” You handed him the newspaper.

“The future.”

———————————————————————

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Bucky chuckled. “You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know there’s three and a half million women here?”

You laughed, bitterness laced in your tone. “Well, around half of them aren’t allowed into the fronts of restaurants, so good luck grabbing a date.” They both nodded, in sympathy and in agreement. They’d seen it happen to you multiple times, hell, Steve had tried to start up a fight with one waiter that wouldn’t even give you a coffee.

Turning his attention back to his surroundings, the blond sighed. “I’d settle for just one.”

“Well, good thing I took care of that,” Bucky said, waving over to two girls. Ah, of course. One waved back, excitedly rushing over with her friend to greet the new Sergeant.

“How’d you manage that?” you asked, not really wanting to say out loud that you were shocked he found Steve a date.

“I’m just that good, doll.” He winked at another passing girl, who practically swooned and waved to him.

You scoffed, lightly smacking him on the chest and taking Steve by the hand. “Hurry up, before Buck manages to leave a trail of broken hearts behind him and you have an asthma attack.”

“What’d you tell her about me?” Steve grumbled. Bucky declared a weak, “Only the good stuff,” before picking up his pace. You greeted the girls as introductions were exchanged, nudging the brunet lightly.

“Ouch,” you whispered. “No pretty dame for me?”

Bucky laughed under his breath. “Well, that wouldn’t be very proper, would it? Besides, it’s not like I’m this popular with the guys, otherwise I would’ve gotten you a date.”

Snorting, you glanced around before leaning in conspiratorially. “We both know you’re just as popular with the guys, Buck. Don’t sell yourself short.”

The girls ran ahead, eager to explore the science fair. As you three followed behind them, you spun around, dress swishing at your knees as you took in every invention on display. Even if Bucky was the nerd of your little trio, you could still appreciate good science.

However, when you turned back to smile at your best friends, the shorter one was gone.

“Oh my god. Bucky. Where’s Steve?” The brunet whipped to his side, his hat nearly flying off his head in the process. Another reminder that he was leaving soon.

“Holy shit. Steve?” he yelled, peering over the crowd.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered. Before you could panic any further, the blond stepped out of the crowd, a pamphlet in hand. “Holy shit, Steve, you can’t run off like that!” you chided, checking him for any bruises.

“You know she’s right, punk,” Bucky added, frowning.

“Why do you two feel the need to chaperone me like I’m some kid?” Steve asked, eyeing you and Bucky as the bright lights of the different booths sent spots across his vision. You rolled your eyes, setting a hand on your hip.

“Because, Stevie,” you sighed, drawing out your words. “You have little-to-no survival instincts, and Sarah would smite us if we let you run around on your own.”

Squeezing through the crowd, you approached a stage. Howard Stark, famed engineer and inventor waltzed on, dramatically passing off his hat to a woman before sweeping her into a kiss. You raised a brow, but watched, intrigued, as he spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?” The women onstage removed the wheels, revealing four machines in their place.

“With Stark Gravitic Reversion Technology, you’ll be able to do just that.” With a push of a lever, a low thrumming began, the bright-red car slowly lifting above the ground. It was like magic, complete with a golden glow surrounding the tech. However, just as it stabilized, it began to spark, crashing down as the crowd laughed.

Howard only grinned. “I did say a few years, didn’t I?” he quipped. You applauded, watching Bucky’s reactions. The man was more interested in the inventions than his date, or keeping an eye on Steve.

Just as you turned to look for the blond, you noticed he was gone. Again. Sighing, you nudged Bucky to knock him out of his stupor. “He’s gone again,” you sighed. With a simultaneous eye roll and a few apologies thrown to the girls, you both ran off, scanning the crowd for a small, thin man.

“God, it’s like he wants us to worry,” Bucky grumbled as he parted the crowd. You scoffed. “You tell me.” Pointing to yet another recruitment building, you began heading towards it. “I’ll bet he’s in here. Either here or getting beaten up again.”

A brief look around found Steve in front of a mirror designed to make the person looking in it look like a soldier. Steve’s face was sticking out of the character’s chest.

“Come on. You’re kind of missing the point of a double date. We’re taking the girls dancing,” Bucky said, lightly shoving your friend.

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.” He seemed distracted.

You smiled knowingly, though a frown peeked through. “No you won’t, Steve.” The brunet was quick to join in.

“You’re really doing this again?”

“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

“As who, Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you-”

“Or worse, they’ll actually take you,” you cut in. “Steve, come on. You can’t keep doing this.”

He sighed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Look, I know you guys don’t think I can do this-”

Bucky snapped at him. “This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war. Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.”

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?” he snarked back.

“Yes!” you exclaimed in unison. You gave up as they continued to argue, mind falling back on the clock ticking down. There was a sick feeling settling in your chest. The combination of Bucky going overseas and having to leave Steve on his own had gnawed away at you over the past weeks, reducing your every waking thought to what could go wrong.

Steve could get sick. And if yours and Bucky’s money from the military wasn’t enough to cover medications or a hospital visit, he could die. Odds would be that the news wouldn’t reach either of you for weeks, if at all.

Bucky could die. Europe was at the front of the battle. Hitler’s forces made new strikes every day. So many men had already died.

You returned to the present as Steve voiced your thoughts. “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”

“But you got nothing to prove,” you said, pleading that he would understand your point. You were met with silence until a voice piped up from behind you.

“Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?” You smiled as the man in question turned around in a flourish.

“Yes, we are,” he said, as if it was a ridiculous question. “(Y/N)? Care to join us?”

Shaking your head, you declined the offer. “I’m beat. Gonna head home for now and get everything ready for tomorrow.”

He nodded, giving Steve one last glare. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I?” the blond asked. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

“You’ve both got plenty of stupid to share,” you smiled, earning playful glares.

You three exchanged hugs, along with a few insults.

“You’re a punk.”

“Jerk.”

“Dumbasses.”

Bucky offered one last salute before running off to the girls. “You better not bring any dames back home, Barnes,” you called. “I need sleep!” He waved you off, taking their hands.

“You’re worried.” You glanced over to Steve, brows furrowed. “What?” you asked.

“You’re zoning out,” he hummed. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay safe.” With a hefty sigh, you hugged him again, muttering a, “you better.” before pulling away and beginning the walk home.

———————————————————————

You and Bucky were shipped off the next day, overseas and into the midst of war. And although you had to fight the higher-ups, you managed to keep your bow with you. They wouldn’t give you any arrows, though.

So you were stuck in the infirmaries, treating men that came back bloodied and beaten. Some were so far gone that no form of treatment or medicine could help them.

You watched young men, younger than you, die in your arms. But you wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t let them know how poorly they were doing. The least you could do in their last moments was bring them comfort.

It only made you want to fight more. Once a week, you would go to the Colonel, pleading, begging for a chance to help. They said the same thing every time.

“You are helping, you’re one of our best nurses.” But you knew it was a bold-faced lie. You would be more helpful on the field than in a stuffy, white dress.

But for now, you were stuck in said dress. Treating trench foot.

Once you rewrapped the man, you gave him a smile and left the tent, hoping to catch some air. Instead, you found the Colonel, rushing towards you.

“(L/N), pack your bags,” he said, expression darkening. “You and some other nurses are being relocated. A nearby camp just lost over 100 men.” You frowned, only nodding before hurrying off to your quarters. Throwing your things into a duffel bag, you hesitated when one particular item caught your eye.

Your bow.

You hesitated. It would only be another fight to bring it. But that gut feeling you’d felt on your last night with your boys resurfaced, stubbornly making its home in your mind. With a grumble, you grab the bow.

You spotted the cars transporting nurses and a few men, hopping in one near the back and settling in for the ride. A few soldiers exchanged passing words about the camp you all were headed to.

A mission to stop Hitler’s scientist, Johann Schmidt. A force sent by Colonel Phillips to Azzano, a small province in Italy. Less than 50 men returned out of the 200 sent.

Your heart broke as you listened. The men that returned were traumatized, injured, and spirits crushed by whatever they’d seen.

It was around an hour later when you arrived, cars pulling into the desolate camp. Bow slung over your shoulder and bag in hand, you leapt off, racing to the infirmary alongside several other nurses.

The soldiers inside were a mess. Some were missing limbs, others covered in burns that looked far worse than normal. You rushed into action, tending to them one by one. Most were passed out, but one remained awake as you worked on a large cut on his arm.

“Hey, hey, stay awake, kid,” you said, wiping the cut clean. “Tell me something about yourself.”

He chuckled weakly. “Why? Wanna go on a date?” You raised a brow, deadpanning at him before shoving the needle into his arm to stitch the wound. “Alright! Alright, shit!” he exclaimed. You smiled, blowing on the wound as you tied the first stitch.

“I’m from Jersey, my favorite subject in school was science, I-” He hissed as you finished the second stitch. “I managed to catch one of that… Oh, what’s his name… Captain America! I saw one of his shows.”

Ah, yes. America’s newest mascot. You’d heard the rumors. Some dreamboat from the Army, decked out in the American flag and raising morale around the country. He sounded rather stupid, you thought.

You finished the last stitch as the man rambled on. “I’ve got a broad back home, been getting some letters from her. I’m just a soldier, but she talks like I’m the head of the 107th-”

“The 107th?” you asked, heart jumping into your throat. “You’re part of the 107th?”

“Yeah, what’s left of it, why?”

You grabbed his arm a bit too harshly, and he winced at the contact. “Sergeant James Barnes, do you know him?”

He frowned. “Barnes? Of course I knew him.” Knew him. Knew him.

“He- he's…” You gulped, holding back oncoming tears. “He’s dead?” The word felt taboo. Like saying it aloud made it real.

The soldier shrugged best he could with an injured arm, sympathy covering his features. “I didn’t see him go down, but anyone not here was killed or captured. I’m not sure if the Colonel is sending a task force out or not.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you stood, gripping your bow as your knuckles went white. “He will be.”

———————————————————————

You put up quite a fit to Colonel Phillips, begging, not to fight, but to send a force to Azzano. You tried your best to get him to understand your desperation. No, Sergeant Barnes’ life technically wasn’t any more valuable than anyone else’s, but he didn’t understand.

Your Bucky never wanted to fight. He wanted to stay with Steve. He wanted- Well, he wanted a lot of things. And now he was either stuck behind enemy lines or dead where his body wouldn’t be found. It wasn’t fair.

The Colonel refused to hear it. Under threat of discharge, you backed down, although you still brought it up occasionally. But the news sent you spiraling. Your mind was invaded by worry and grief, the latter of which you tended to shove down in an attempt to deny that one of your best friends was dead.

It was two days before you remembered to send a letter to Steve back home, which you rewrote three times. Just like saying the words, writing them made the whole situation more real. He was likely gone.

The general mood of the camp seemed to match your own as the days went on, and even the survivors from the 107th were tired and melancholy.

News that camp was the next stop for the famed Captain America didn’t lift spirits at all either.

On the day of the visit, when all of the soldiers were shuffled out into the center of the camp, you stayed in your tent. You clutched your bow, wondering if you would ever get a chance to fire it into the heart of Schmidt. A muffled song rang out outside. Something about a “Star-Spangled Man With A Plan”.

“God, they’re loud,” you huffed, rising from your cot, bow in hand. The song ended before you emerged, and when you looked across the sea of soldiers at the pop-up stage, there was only one man. In tights. And the ugliest helmet you had ever seen.

“How many of you are ready to sack old Adolf on the jaw?” the man asked. The crowd was silent; no surprise there. “I will,” you wanted to say. “I will if you can bring home my friend. If you can do more than sell war bonds.”

God, this “Captain” infuriated you.

“Okay. Uh, I need a volunteer.” You stepped between tanks as a few soldiers mocked the man. Most of the nurses had stayed near the infirmary to watch, but you parted the crowd with little effort. In part because of your reputation, but also because of the bow swinging at your side.

One man shouted, “Bring back the girls!” The soldiers cheered as the Captain stammered, and one rose up. “Hey, Captain! Sign this!” With that, he pulled down his pants, ass aimed directly at the stage. You sighed heavily.

“John, pull up your britches and sit down,” you snapped. “I’d like to get a look at America’s Golden Boy.” The man begrudgingly did so, falling to the ground with an annoyed huff.

“Come on, guys. We’re all on the same team here.”

Wait. That sounded… familiar. The voice, the words. You searched through your memories. All you found was Steve, saying that to a group of guys in a parking lot before you and Bucky saved his ass.

But there was no way, right? Your Steve was scrawny, weak. Not to mention almost a foot shorter than the man before you.

Yet, when a soldier threw a tomato and the Captain blocked it with his shield, all doubts were cleared from your mind. On the last day before you had left, you’d seen him do the same with a trash can lid.

You shooed a soldier off of a wooden box, standing up on it to yell.

“Steven Grant Rogers! That better not be you!” The man onstage froze.

“(Y/N)?” he asked. You glared at him.

“You are in so much trouble,” you shouted, storming through the crowd. Steve ran off of the stage as the crowd laughed, with you hot on his trail. You found him in a nearby tent, helmet yanked off and shield long discarded.

When he saw you, his eyes lit up. “(Y/N), it’s so good to see you. I promise I can explain, I just-”

With as much force as you could muster, you punched him in the stomach. “What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes watering. “I- We wanted you to stay home, stay safe.”

“I will be. I’m… different now, (Y/N), I’m enhanced. I can lift a whole motorcycle, I’m not… I’m not fragile.” You shoved him as the rain poured down.

“You don’t understand, Steve! I can’t lose you both, I won’t!” you pleaded, a few tears threatening to fall.

That made him freeze. “Both? What do you mean?”

Frowning, you wiped your eyes. “Did you not get my letter? It’s Bucky, he-” A sob ripped through you, and Steve gently took your hands, waiting with bated breath for you to continue.

“Almost his entire platoon was killed or captured, Steve. I tried to get the Colonel to send out a rescue mission, but he wouldn’t, he threatened to send me home, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave knowing he might still be out there.”

He pulled you into a hug, gasping for air as his throat constricted. It felt like an asthma attack almost, but with a feeling of dread added in.

“You said Phillips wouldn’t send out a task force?” he managed. You shook your head.

“Not like he would listen to me.”

With a decisive sigh, Steve steadied his breath. Another woman, a brunette, appeared behind him.

“Peggy,” he greeted. You waved as he started off towards the Colonel’s tent. “He may not have taken you seriously, but he might listen to me.”

You three raced through the pouring rain, dodging soldiers and tents. By the time you arrived at the tent, you were winded. But Steve seemed unaffected.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan,” Colonel Phillips said. “What is your plan today?”

“Are you not sending out a rescue mission to Azzano?” He got straight to the point, blunt and honest.

The Colonel shot a glare at you and the woman called Peggy. “We are gonna have a conversation later that neither of you will enjoy.” You glared back.

“Yeah, it’s called ‘winning the war’,” he said, turning his attention back to Steve.

“But if you know where they are, why not at least-“

“They’re 30 miles behind the lines, through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save.” He stared down his nose at you and Steve. “But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” He pointed at Steve, then to you. “and you’re a nurse trying to be a soldier.”

You raised your chin, meeting his eye. “I think we understand just fine.”

“Then understand it somewhere else.” Nodding to the Captain, he called to him before he stalked off. “If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.”

Steve glanced at the map behind Phillips’s desk, then to you. “Yes, sir. I do.”

———————————————————————

Agent Peggy Carter, as she had introduced herself, was probably the most helpful person you knew. When you and Steve had raced off to pack, she had followed you, offering to call in a pilot.

When she had spotted your bow, she had also asked the pilot to bring arrows and a uniform with pants. You decided that she was more competent than most of the Army right then and there.

Steve, on the other hand, was adamant you stay out of the fight.

“You’re going to get hurt!” he’d argued.

You’d scoffed. “So will you. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you storm into an enemy base on your own.”

Now, you were tucked into a plane, in the most comfortable clothes you’d ever worn. Digging through the quiver the pilot, Howard Stark himself had provided, you found modified arrows, some looking rather deadly.

“Howard?” you yelled into the cockpit, holding up one particularly wicked-looking arrow. “What’s this one do?”

“That one is full of tiny needles,” he yelled back. “Shoot it into a crowd, have some fun.” His definition of fun seemed a bit sadistic, but you kept the arrow anyway.

Peggy sighed, looking up from a map. “The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.”

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep,” Howard said. Steve requested to get as close as possible, before warning the scientist and agent.

“You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.”

The woman raised a brow. “And you two won’t?”

You hefted your bow, buckling the last strap on your parachute. “Where we’re going, if anybody yells at us, we can just shoot them.”

“They will undoubtedly shoot back,” she frowned. Steve patted the prop shield laying next to him. “Well, let’s hope it’s good for something.”

Peggy held out a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.”

“Are you sure this thing works?” Steve tucked it into his pocket.

Howard chuckled. “It’s been tested more than you, pal.” As he spoke, gunfire began to surround the plane, rocking it in midair. You grabbed onto your seat as loud bangs echoed around the sky. Making eye contact with Steve, you rose, heading towards the door.

“Get back here!” Peggy exclaimed. “We’re taking you both all the way in!”

Steve ignored her, sitting down in the open frame of the plane as you got ready to jump behind him. “As soon as we’re clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” he yelled.

“You can’t give me orders!” she bit back.

And like the shit-eater he was, Steve smirked. “The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” With that, you both jumped.

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america: the first avenger #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader fluff #stucky x reader angst #40s stucky #stucky x winged!reader #stucky

[aniron48]

Love Letters - Day 4

I don't know how it's possible, but we're already almost halfway through! You all have made this so much fun, and it's been an utter delight for me so far. 💜 If you're joining for the first time, you can catch up as follows: Day 1 Day 2 Day 3

As a reminder, there will be a post around this time (9pmish EST) every night through 2/14. And for those who are all caught up, welcome to day 4 of Love Letters, a 00q choose your own adventure! Congratulations, fellow nerds, you've unlocked the library. Day 4 starts below the cut.

His next stop should probably be to the library.

“Can I help you find anything?” A librarian with bright pink hair and a beard to match walked up to where Bond lingered in front of the new acquisitions shelf, trying to get his bearings.

Bond opened his mouth to decline, but he only had an hour and a half before he had to be back at MI6 for a meeting with the Budget Office, and not much idea where to start. Besides, he’d made sure nothing he borrowed could be traced to him, anyway. He’d taken out the library card in Mallory’s name.

“I don’t suppose you have any books on love letters?”

“Books about love letters? Or with examples of them?”

“Yes. Both. Either.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I pulled a few things that might be of interest for our Valentine’s Day display. It’s just over here.”

Bond followed the librarian, whose name badge read “Kai,” to a table decorated with construction paper drawings of candy hearts. They picked up a book called Indelible: Queer Love Letters through the Ages. “This just came in last month, and it’s gorgeous. Give it a look and see if it’s what you need.”

Bond took the book to one of the nearby tables and began to page through.

Before he knew it, nearly an hour had gone by. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, exactly. Perhaps that love letters from real people would be somehow less than the fictional letter Austen had written for Captain Wentworth—less profound, and more prosaic. There were mundane bits, to be sure, but somehow even they were suffused with light; enhanced, rather than diminished, by the love that brought them into focus.

“I just miss you,” Vita Sackville-West wrote to Virginia Woolf, “in a quite simple desperate human way…I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.”

And there was profundity, too, a humanity that banked itself like the embers of a fire against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm it. Near the middle of the book, Bond found the letters of Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon. 

“And you have fixed my Life—however short,” he wrote, almost a year to the day before he was killed in action, barely a week before the end of World War I. “You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.”

“What do you think?” Kai asked, returning to Bond’s table.

Bond cleared his throat. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Could I check this out?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you at the circulation desk.” 

Kai took Bond’s library card and scanned it, saying as they did so, “You know, the editors of this anthology are putting together a companion version of contemporary letters. They’re asking people to send in copies of letters they’ve received, to show what love looks like now. If you’re fond of love letters, you should think about sending some in.”

Bond looked down at the circulation desk, rubbing ineffectually at a scuff mark with his finger. He thought of a flooded building in Venice, and all the hopes that had collapsed with it; of the dozens of married women and the handful of married men for whom Bond had been an excuse to pretend, for an hour, or an evening, or a week, that their lives were something more than a string of indistinguishable, empty days. He’d been happy to let them, at the time. He’d been using them for the same thing, after all. But there had been no love letters for him, either, even if he’d never felt the lack until now.

“No,” he said after a moment. “No, I don’t have anything I could send in.”

“Well, you never know,” Kai said, handing over the book. “Valentine’s Day is coming up. You might get lucky.”

“You never know,” Bond said, slipping his library card back in his wallet. “Thanks again.”

As he walked back to MI6, the book safely wrapped in his jacket, he thought, finally, that he might have everything he needed to write Q a proper love letter.

I made up the title of the book Bond looks through, but the love letters (and many more like them!) are real. You can find the letter from Vita Sackville-West here, and the one from Wilfred Owen here.

#Love Letters #Love Letters Day 4 #00q #choose your own adventure #00q choose your own adventure

[druidgroves]

Chapter 01: Maybe I'll Say Maybe

Fandom: Fallout 4 Words: 6,208 Characters: Georgia Tate (Canon Divergent Sole Survivor), Nate Notes: Soooo I decided to rewrite the first chapter (01/20/2024) since it was originally written years before I started BLP proper. I'll still keep the old one linked somewhere for posterity, but going forward the story will start referencing more things from Georgia's life pre-war. Please let me know what you think! read on ao3 / read on tumblr

August 28th, 2075

Georgia Walker checks her watch for the ninth time in as many minutes.

It’s been over an hour, she thinks not for the first time, where the hell are you?

Beside her, sitting at one of the desks that didn’t even reach her knees, is Henry Tate, number twenty-three in her classroom. Henry had been working on a coloring book she’d slipped him while she had dealt with a truly inane series of phone calls (call home. Reach housekeeper? Learn Mrs. Tate is at the salon. Wait. Answer call from housekeeper, get details on pick-up. Uncle arriving ???). He didn’t seem worried about staying later than the other kids.

Maybe Georgia should talk with his first grade teacher, see if this was a pattern she should expect…

“Let me guess: alien giraffe?” she asks when he sets down his crayon.

“No,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world and to him, it is. “He’s a sick giraffe. He’s green.”

Georgia smiles a little to herself and gently smacks her forehead. “Psht, of course he’s sick, silly me. What’s his outlook, doc?”

Henry got that same look on his face that he and the other kids who still needed extra help with their four-letter words shared. Still, she’d read it was good to use an expanded vocabulary with kids. Made them more curious.

She laughs. “Is he gonna get better?”

“I dunno. I don’t think he can get better by himself,” he says.

“Well, maybe you can color him a friend to help him out,” Georgia says as she stands up from her chair and checks her watch for the tenth time. She sighs and puts on a cheery voice, “Hey, kiddo, sit tight, I’m gonna try to give Mom another call, alright? Give me juuust a second and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Miss Georgia,” Henry says, barely paying attention to her now as he attempts to find the perfect friend for his green giraffe. She can’t help but ruffle his hair a little before she leaves.

She steps out of her classroom, careful not to bend the decorations she spent all summer making. Her door is covered in all the recycled newspapers she scrounged from the people in her apartment building, painted in varying shades of green. Pasted on top of them were individually cut sunflowers with her student’s names written in neat, bubbly print in the middle. Amongst the flowers are the words “Young Minds Bloom In Ms. Walker’s Classroom!” in white paint.

As she walks past her bulletin board, the real star of the show in her opinion, she feels a little pride go through her. “Blooming Great Work!” scrawled across the sky of an entire paper vegetable garden, squeezed onto a four by eight foot sheet of compressed wood pulp. A tiny pumpkin patch in the corner, tomatoes on the vine, corn in the stalk, all crafted from more recycled newspapers. The real part she was proud of, the one no one had commented on or even noticed, was the fact that she was able to find enough papers without sensationalized political headlines.

War dominated everything from the newspapers to the television to the cereal half her students ate for breakfast (sending your kids to school hyped up on Sugar Bombs? Great plan). Most of them had a father, an older brother, or an uncle in the military, the marines, or the air force. It had become such a permeable part of the fabric of their lives, starting way before they were even a twinkle in their parent’s eyes. On the first day of school, at least three had said that their daddy/brother/uncle died in The War. Kids overshared their big feelings. Georgia knew to expect that. So the very least she could do is try to take their minds off of it in any small way she could. That included keeping it out of her classroom of seven to eight year olds when it wasn’t necessary.

As she walked past the counselor’s office, she wondered just how many big feelings passed through their door on the daily. Not many schools in Boston still had counselors on payroll anymore. Frankly, Georgia was surprised they still had the teachers on the payroll with how many slashes there had been to the national education budget in recent years. Dollar bills for pencils, textbooks, and backpacks spent on bullets, tanks, and warheads. It had almost been enough for her to give up on her degree in her junior year of college, but she pushed through if only to make taking out those damnable student loans somewhat worth it.

All that was to say, that whoever was going to be picking up Henry Tate, they may have gotten stuck behind a military blockade somewhere in the city. It happened. Didn’t make it any less frustrating to deal with.

Georgia rounds the corner of the second grade hallway and runs straight into a cloud of minty smelling smoke. She coughs, not expecting her senses to be assaulted like that in a primary school, and waves it away as she realizes who brought it in with them.

A man with tousled brown hair, broad shouldered and lean, a cigarette between his scarred lips, stares at the trophy case in front of the main office.

“‘Most Patriotic’, eh?” he says aloud like he’d been waiting for her to appear so he could make his snappy quip. “How do they even measure that in kids? I doubt any of them can say the national anthem all the way through at this age.”

“You’d be surprised,” she says before she can think, remembering the first day of school when little Henry Tate himself managed to get through the entire thing, only stumbling over the word indivisible. “By the way, you shouldn’t smoke inside a school, sir.”

The man laughs and finally looks in her direction. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes give her a quick once over.

“Why’s that? Fire hazard?” he asks.

“Among other things,” she replies. “They say smokin’ is bad for your health. I read it in Massachusetts Surgical Journal.”

“A bunch of boring brainy types would say that,” he shrugs, but snubs his cigarette out on the heel of his boot anyways and slips it back into the carton in his shirt pocket. “No offense if you’re one of those brainy types, by the way.”

A laugh sneaks past Georgia’s lips. She’s been known to indulge in a smoke or two during her breaks. “No offense taken, but I might offend you by askin’…you wouldn’t happen to be here to pick up a child, would you?”

“I am, actually,” he confirms. “Sister-in-law sent me to pick him up. Henry Tate. You know him?”

“I happen to be his teacher. I came to make another call, but he’s back in the classroom working on a friend for a green giraffe. A sick giraffe, mind you,” she says seriously, wagging a finger at him and making him chuckle. She smiles. “I’ll show you the way.”

“Be my guest,” he replies, and follows after her.

Before they can even walk through the door, Henry is rushing his uncle like a linebacker. His uncle manages to swoop him up before he can run smack into his shins, making him scream with laughter.

“Uncle Nate! Uncle Nate!” he cries.

“Yep, that’s me, kiddo,” he says and puts Henry down. “Mom was too busy to pick you up—” Georgia catches the look he throws at her just in time that says all she needed to know about his opinion of the woman. “So you get me instead. Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’re not a dis’pointment,” Henry says with a toothy grin. Then, like he remembers Georgia standing not three feet away from them, excitedly shouts, “Wait, wait, Uncle Nate! This is my teacher, Miss Georgia. She’s really nice. I like her.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” Georgia laughs as he wraps his arms around her legs in a quick hug. She gives him a pat on the back, then takes Nate’s hand when he offers it to shake.

“From what I hear, he doesn’t stop talking about school, you especially,” he says. He rests an arm against the wall of cubbies nearest the door, running a hand through his hair as he talks. Georgia feels a little warmth pool in her face when she catches herself staring for a second longer than is polite.

“Well, that’s nice to hear as well,” she says after clearing her throat.

Then he winks at her, a split-second thing that makes her blush for real this time as he tells Henry, “Hey, little man. Why don’t you go get your stuff together and then we’ll swing by the Red Rocket and get us some sodas, okay? I wanna talk to your teacher for a second.”

At the promise of soda, Henry darts off with a cheer to gather his things. Nate then turns to Georgia, warm brown eyes giving her another quick once over. She shivers.

“So, is it Miss or Miz?” he asks, nodding towards the door to the classroom. “I wanna know before I make an ass of myself.”

She tries to keep her laugh quiet, putting a hand over her mouth but failing to contain her volume. Her cheeks feel hot already.

“It’s, uh, Miss. Miss Walker. M-I-S-S,” she clarifies, face growing redder by the second.

“Good to know, Miss Walker. But where’s that accent from? Down south? You sound too soft to be from here,” he continues, fiddling with the carton in his shirt pocket.

“Arkansas,” she nods, reaching up to nervously fidget with one of the curls resting on her shoulder. “Grew up outside of Little Rock, moved here for college and decided to stay. You?”

“Boston born and raised,” Nate says with pride. “Nice to know you’re not from around here.”

Georgia raises an eyebrow at him. “And why’s that?”

“Means I can show you somewhere neat on our date,” he replies with a crooked grin, her heart fluttering.

“Date?” Georgia repeats, almost sure she didn’t hear him correctly. She flounders like a fish out of water.

“If you want,” Nate concedes, holding up his hands but his grin never faltering. “C’mon, let me show you somewhere nice. Somewhere you’ve never been before.”

She tries to compose herself, giving him an amused but disbelieving look and crossing her arms. “And what if I have been there? What then?”

Nate snorts, dismissive. “Trust me. You’ve never been there before. So what do you say? One date and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Georgia considers his offer. In half a second she manages to justify either answer. On one hand, she has rules when it comes to dating, not to mention dating a family member of one of her students. It came with its own host of issues from a potential breakup ruining her classroom dynamic or even getting fired. On the other hand…She gives him her own quick once over.

He’s like a goddamn calendar man, all toned muscles in a white t-shirt and charmingly tousled hair. And that scar on his lip? All that was missing was some oil and the washboard abs he undoubtedly had under the shirt. Georgia remembers to breathe again after pushing the train of thought away. The pros quickly begin to outweigh the cons. She’d sooner stick herself with a pair of safety scissors than say no to him.

“Pick me up at six and it’s a date.”

-----

In hindsight, stabbing herself with safety scissors that afternoon might have saved Georgia no small amount of grief.

By her own account, their first date had gone well. Really well if their winnings from hustling his friends at pool in a veteran’s bar was anything to go by. That night she had learned Nathan “Nate” Tate had recently finished up his eight year commitment to the military, but now he was working in a Corvega factory his uncle owned. It was one of the many around the Boston area that had switched from producing its titular cars to jeeps and tanks in an effort to cash in on the war effort. He had his own sweet Corvega Blitz that he picked her up in, shiny and red as her lipstick.

Nate had oozed charm that night, enough to get her into his backseat on that first date, and the second one, and the third one, too. She’d become so enamored with him so fast that her mother had demanded she fly up and meet the man after a single phone call. She dragged her father along, too. Nate impressed them with flying colors. Her mother, albeit a little hesitantly, admitted she could understand her daughter’s feelings. Her father had clapped him on the shoulder and told him he was a solid man.

They were married within the next three months.

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to go through with this?”

“For the hundredth time, yes, Mama,” Georgia huffs, looking at her mother over her shoulder. “Besides, as you and Daddy keep remindin’ me, this weddin’ wasn’t exactly cheap. I don’t see the sense in backin’ out now.”

Georgia’s mother sighs and purses her lips as she finishes buttoning up the back of her dress. It was a simple thing, not much flair save for bits of lace and a tight sweetheart neckline her cousin said enhanced her “natural features” when the women in her family went wedding dress shopping with her. Her mother wears a blush pink dress with an empire waist and a knee-length skirt; she’d tried talking Georgia into a different color palette, but eventually acquiesced to her demands when it became clear she was indeed her mother’s daughter, headstrong and stubborn.

“A hundred percent sure?” she asks again. Georgia replies with a similar pursed expression. “Just makin’ sure, just makin’ sure…Is it such a crime for a mother to want her only daughter to be happy?”

“Mama, I am happy,” Georgia insists. She sighs then takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I am perfectly happy with Nate. Last night I talked him into us gettin’ a dog when we find a house.”

Her mother all but throws her hands up in the air, exasperated.

“Hell, honey, if a dog is all it takes for you to be happy, I don’t see why we have to go through with all of this,” she says. “I mean really, Georgia, six months? Half the people out there think it’s a damn shotgun weddin’ for God’s sake.”

“Mama!”

“Well, it’s the truth! You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” Georgia sighs again and refrains from playing with her neatly styled hair no matter how much she wants to fidget around. Instead, she takes one of her mother’s hands into her own and squeezes.

“I’m not pregnant—yet,” she tells her. “We’ve talked about kids. A dog is the first step, sorta. But I promise you, I’m happy with him. Ecstatic, even. Everyone outside? They can think what they want, I don’t care. I love Nate and he loves me. Isn’t that all anyone can ask for?”

She can tell her mother is biting her tongue. Instead of arguing, Georgia is pulled into a tight hug.

“Love and an expensive reception,” she says, then checks the clock on the vanity. “Almost time, hun. Let’s go.”

-----

May 1st, 2076

When Nate picks her up after work, Georgia just about makes it to the car before she starts tearing up.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asks when she collapses into the passenger seat beside him.

“My decorations!” she sobs.

Nate gives her a sideways look as he pulls out of the school parking lot. “What about ‘em?”

“They ruined them!”

“Who’s ‘them?’”

Georgia wants to scream. Instead, she lets her nails dig into the leather of her seat and heaves a sigh. She hates crying.

“Remember those two teachers I told you about? The ones who kept makin’ snippy comments about my bulletin board?” she asks, trying to jog his memory. They always had something to say whenever they walked past her classroom. Something was always either out of place or over the top for them. For a while she had blamed it on them being bitter and uncreative, but today had been the last straw.

“Oh, yeah, them. So they ruined your bulletin board?”

“They didn’t just ruin it, they–I-I walked into the school this mornin’ and, and everything was a mess. They destroyed everything I worked so fuckin’ hard on!” she manages to get out between sobs, punching the glovebox in frustration.

It was the beginning of the last month of school and she had gone all out with her new decorations. She’d spent weeks on them in between house hunting with Nate. She’d sat at his kitchen counter cutting out buckets, shovels, and beach balls out of more newspaper, creating an entire beach scene for the wall outside her classroom with the words “We ‘Shore’ Are Ready For Summer!” above them. She stayed two hours late just to put them up, and even took a cab home so Nate wouldn’t have to wait on her.

When she walked in that morning, all of it was either ripped, crumpled, or on the ground. She hadn’t cried then, but when one of those teachers walked by and commented “Oh, too bad. Guess you’ll just have to settle for some more lowkey decorations, huh?” she nearly lost it. Instead, she had managed to hold her head high, salvage what she could, and resolve to put it up again when she had the time and the super glue.

“Well,” Nate says, eyes never leaving the road, “fuck them, right? Probably just a couple of jealous old hags.”

Georgia sniffs, not quite wanting to agree but not quite disagreeing either.

“Probably just jealous,” she says, wiping away the rest of her tears and checking her face in the sun visor. Streaks of mascara and eyeliner trail down her cheeks so she does her best to wipe it off, but her eyes are still red.

“In better news,” Nate starts, finally looking over at her during a red light, “I may have found our future house.”

“Really?” Georgia asks, snapping her head over to look at him. Suddenly her problems are miles away. “Where? How? When did you find it? When can we see it?”

“In about a month,” he replies and takes a turn he doesn’t usually take on the drive home.

“A month? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Just sit tight and look pretty, alright?”

They drive all the way out to Concord, stopping only to grab a couple of sodas at a Red Rocket before Nate is driving them over a bridge into a housing development. A temporary sign in block letters reads SANCTUARY HILLS, with thirteen prefabricated homes in different states of completion. They were all either yellow or blue, some with covered carports and some without. Only one home stands in its entirety near the entrance to the neighborhood and Nate parks the car in front of it.

“Is this it?” Georgia asks excitedly as she gets out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

“Not this one, but close,” Nate replies as he joins her, then nods further up the road, “ours will be over there.”

She turns on her heel to him, eyes wide. “‘Ours?’”

Nate only gives her a sly smile in return.

“You cannot be serious right now,” Georgia says but he just keeps on smiling down at her. “Do not play with me, Nathan.”

He opens the passenger door to the car and rifles around in the glovebox for a moment, coming back out with folded papers. He barely has them in front of her before she’s snatching them out of his hands, reading them over. She looks back up at him incredulously.

“Nathan Charles Tate!” she all but shouts, making him jump. “What was goin’ through your head?! Are you crazy? Why would you make this decision without me?”

“Relax a little, would you? Plots were going fast, it was in our price range, and we can move in in a month,” he tries to tell her but she can’t keep her upset from showing. “It was now or never.”

They had been looking for somewhere to settle down since before they got married and with the housing market as terrible as it was…Maybe this was a boon falling into their laps. Maybe she was still stressed from school and taking it out on him. That wasn’t fair. Georgia sighs and hands the papers back to him.

“I just…I would’ve liked to be in the loop, y’know,” she frowns.

“I would’ve told you sooner, but you’ve been busy with school stuff. I only signed the papers today. If you’re really pissed, I can try walking back the contract, but—”

“Okay, now I know you’re definitely crazy in the head. That’d be more pain than it’s worth,” Georgia says, a small part of her beginning to think about how they’d like to decorate their first house. The idea is starting to grow on her.

“So you’re not upset?”

“Oh, no, I’m furious. But I think that can be fixed if you tell me you at least signed off on a blue one,” she says and he gives her that crooked smile that still makes her chest flutter.

“All blue for you, baby,” he says, and a little smile of her own works its way onto her face.

With that, she wraps him in a hug, burying her face in his chest. He smells like sandalwood and smoke and is warm to the touch. His arms around her and his face in her hair is comforting in the best way. He kisses her on the forehead and lifts her up by the chin, something unknowable ruminating in his mind if she judges his expression right.

“So…” he starts, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Better watch out,” she jokes and he tweaks her nose for it, making her giggle.

“Seriously, just listen. I’ve been thinking about this while we’ve been house hunting,” he says, and she gives him all of her undivided attention, “and I think you should quit your job.”

Georgia’s pleased expression drops, her eyebrows furrowed as she squints at him in the fading sunlight. Streetlamps lining the road flicker on, one after the other.

“Excuse me?” He can’t be serious.

“Let me finish before you get pissed at me again,” Nate starts, releasing her from his hug to raise his hands in defense. “Look, we have a house now. Or we will soon and you’ve been complaining about that damn school for months—”

“So you want me to quit my job right as we’re taking on a bunch of new bills? Nate, I can’t, that’s crazy!” She has to put her foot down here. Yes, her coworkers were mean, yes, the pay was shit, and yes, being the sole caretaker of twenty-eight kids for eight hours a day was perhaps the tiniest bit stressful. But it was all nothing she couldn’t handle in the long run, and she hasn’t even finished her first year.

“Listen,” Nate says again, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I got a promotion today at work. I’m off the factory floor and in the office making more than enough, plus all of my military benefits.”

“Wait, you got a promotion today? You should have led with that,” Georgia says, crossing her arms.

“I wanted to, but you started crying the second you got into the car.”

She bites her lip and concedes to his point. She hadn’t even given him a chance.

“Think about it: you, at home, putting all your creative genius into some interior decorating. Doesn’t that sound more fun than making flimsy paper decorations only for some old bat to tear them down?” Nate asks her. “And hey, we can finally get that dog you’ve been talking about.”

She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions within the last ten minutes and Georgia can’t clear her head of them while she’s still looking into his pleading eyes. He’s thrown so much information at her, but she can just about make out the specs of gold among the brown and in that instant she knows he has her just where he wants her. The more she thinks about it, the more she pictures them picking out new furniture, walking the dog around the neighborhood, cookouts with neighbors…Maybe she wants to be there, too.

“I’ll think about it,” she says finally and he grins like he’s already won. She holds up a finger, pressing it to his lips before he can try to kiss her. “Let me finish out the school year first. It’s only ‘til the end of May. After that, we’ll have plenty of time to move in and start decoratin’ over summer break.”

Nate just keeps grinning down at her, then surprises her when he scoops her up into his arms to spin her around.

“We have a house!” he cries out, his voice echoing through the empty neighborhood.

“We have a house!” Georgia shouts, laughing as he spins her.

He brings her down to plant one on her, dipping her when he does, and she can’t remember the last time she’s felt so happy after feeling so low.

-----

It takes a little less than a month before their house in Sanctuary Hills is move-in ready.

After a week of getting things unpacked and settled, Georgia tries to be neighborly. She makes a double batch of shortbread cookies with the few ingredients they have with the intent to go door-to-door and introduce herself, but it doesn’t pan out how she imagined it.

The only person who doesn’t turn her down is the man in the Hawthorne residence at the front of the neighborhood. To his credit, he was neighborly in his own way and offers to trade her the whole container for a box of Mentats that she only declines out of polite shock. Walking away, she can remember the taste of the orange ones from her college days on the tip of her tongue.

Coming home with a still-heavy container, sad and a little dejected, Georgia opens the door to her own home and walks past Nate on the couch and into the kitchen, setting the cookies on the counter.

“It’s either the new tax bracket or there’s somethin’ in the water makin’ everyone paranoid enough to turn down free food in a crisis,” she sighs, leaning against the counter and looking through their unopened mail. Bill, campaign soliciting, bill, bill, junk, paycheck, bill.

“No one wanted your cookies? More for me, then,” Nate shrugs as he watches the news.

After the news anchor reports on messages from the war front, the commercial breaks show fancy new Corvega Atomic V-8s, placement in a doomsday Vault, and domestic helper Miss Nanny robots. Then the anchor is back on screen and talks about the riots (some even inside Boston), the food shortages, and the chance that foreign spies could be anywhere. A rinse and repeat of instilled paranoia until the channel changes. It’s all so bleak that Georgia thinks she can’t blame her neighbors too much.

“Bring me one, would you?” Nate asks, gesturing over at her. “Those are my favorite.”

Georgia purses her lips at him over her shoulder while she opens the bills, “You have legs, mister. Use ‘em or lose ‘em.”

She turns back to the bills—surely the electric can’t be that high—and ignores his sigh from behind her. He walks over and pops open the tin, leaning against the counter.

“The boys invited me out to the bar this weekend,” he says through a mouthful of shortbread, then swallows. “You wanna come?”

Georgia’s eyes flit to him over the water bill. “I thought you wanted to go pick out a new bed frame this weekend. You made quite a few jokes about ‘breakin’ it in’, too.”

Nate almost appears to weigh the two options as he says, “Oh, yeah…”

“How about this,” he says, taking a bite out of another cookie, “bed frame in the morning, bar at night?”

“Maybe. I wanna take another crack at goin’ around the neighborhood,” she replies, thinking over her options. “Maybe these people just don’t like shortbread.”

Nate snorts, “Yeah, that’s it. Well, I’m going either way, so make up your mind by Friday.”

“Will do,” she nods absently, going back to calculating their bills in her head before she suddenly remembers the shortlist of chores she’d left before making her way around the neighborhood. “Hey, did you put the laundry on while I was out?”

Nate, covered in cookie crumbs, looks like a deer in headlights. She gives him a flat look.

“Sorry?” he tries, not looking the least bit guilty.

“Nevermind,” she mutters, and goes to do it herself.

-----

In July, Nate finally makes good on the promise of a dog (a sweet little Bichon Frise named Lady) and Georgia puts her resignation in. By December, regret hits her like a cast iron pan and a wooden spoon.

She sits on the couch, wrapped up in her robe as she reads her books from the library in the city. Despite all the fighting between them in the last few months, he still agrees to drive her into the city on Saturday mornings as long as he’s allowed to go out with his friends later that night. It gives her plenty of time to read, but it leaves her more than a little lonely, even with the dog, which is where the root of their problems lie.

In August, Nate told her that he was having to put in some overtime at the Corvega factory. Something about quotas not being met, workers threatening to strike, and not enough bodies on the floor. So he’s back on the line, but he assures her his uncle isn’t docking his pay. Georgia understands this and for the first few weeks she greets him at night with a late dinner and a warm shower. She even makes him breakfast to reheat in the mornings before he takes off and full lunches to share with the other men on the line. He called her his “perfect little housewife” and she ignored the twist in her stomach.

Georgia doesn’t think it would have gotten as bad between them if they had more than one car. As is, he drives it to work every day and it hadn’t taken long to get the house in order, so she was left to her own devices for the most part. She was a sociable creature, always had been, and being constrained to the house had done a number on her. The daily walks with Lady helped a little, but the dog wasn’t much of a conversational partner, and Georgia liked to talk. At one point she had even called up her sister-in-law, Margaret, and asked if she could babysit Henry, but she wasn’t willing to drive all the way out to Concord every time she needed to run an errand. So with neighbors that hated her and a husband that was rarely home, Georgia couldn’t help but feel lonely.

From the hallway, Nate stalks into the kitchen. His hair is wet from the shower and his clothes stick to him enough to show off every muscle underneath. Six months ago, she would’ve come up behind him and jumped his bones right there. As it stands, they haven’t had sex in four.

He opens the refrigerator and takes out last night’s lasagna before heading towards the side door to the carport. Georgia frowns.

“Where are you goin’? It’s nine o’clock at night,” she says and he stops at the door.

“Boys wanted to hang out,” he says quickly, “you know how it is.”

She dog-ears her book and puts it down, getting up from the couch. “Really? Why can’t you stay home tonight? Please?”

Nate’s sigh is agitated. She’s asked the wrong question.

“Why? So you can ignore me with your books then go to bed with another headache?” he asks her rhetorically. His words shock her nevertheless and she stands there, wondering what she did between now and this morning to make him bring that up.

“I’m sorry?” she says, less like an apology and more like a chance for him to take it back.

“Yeah, you should be,” he snaps, and goes for the door again. Georgia nearly flips the liquor cabinet by her side.

“Nate, are you serious? What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands, following him out to the carport.

“Just leave it alone, alright? Christ. I’ll be home before midnight.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before he’s inside the car and slamming the door shut. When he peels out of the driveway, Georgia refrains from screaming into the night and slams her own door on her way back inside.

-----

January 2077

“Fuck, ow.”

Georgia squints into the bathroom mirror, face pressed close enough to where she can pluck her eyebrows with surgical precision. A stray piece of wheat blonde hair that didn’t make it into the curlers piled atop her head falls in front of her eyes and she curses again, putting the tweezers down to fix the offending piece. As she does, her blush falls into the sink and cracks the pressed powder inside, staining the porcelain pink.

“Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, can I catch a break?” she mutters, salvaging what she can and closing the compact.

In the trashcan by the toilet are seven positive pregnancy tests she walked all the way to the pharmacy in Concord to get. She had tried to be discreet, but the girl behind the counter had congratulated her loudly enough to draw the attention of a few other customers, and hid a family planning pamphlet between the boxes. Georgia walked out of there sweating like a sinner in church.

She spies her wedding ring beside the hot water handle, and given that it’s pertinent she wears it tonight, she slips it onto her finger before it has a chance to fall down the drain. That was the last thing she needed.

Georgia is pregnant, and she doesn’t feel half as excited as she thought she would.

She and Nate had talked about having kids, of course. It was the main topic of their third date. He told her he’d always wanted a big family—a pretty wife, four kids minimum, and a protective yet lovable dog (they were still working on the dog, surprisingly. Lady ended up pissing on Nate’s side of the bed soon after they got her and was given to her mother-in-law a little while later).

Georgia wanted a family, too, of course. She had always imagined herself having kids someday, but she thought that reality was a little further away. Twenty-three still feels too early to become a mother even if most of her old college friends she hasn’t talked to in two years are starting families as well. It all feels so sudden, even if it’s exactly what she planned.

She files the thoughts away for later, and focuses on finishing up her face. Her makeup had gone untouched for a while after she stopped leaving the house as much, but she knew Nate liked when she dolled herself up. Hopefully it will help.

Once her face is powdered, her hair curled, and lips lined, she goes to their closet to pull out her best dress. Pink, of course, with flowery lace around the hem. She slips it on, careful of her curls, and debates on adding a blue belt just to be on theme before deciding against it. Besides, maybe the pink will help manifest a little girl. On the dresser is her eighth pregnancy test, sealed inside a plastic bag. She slips it into her pocket just as she hears a car pull into the driveway.

Things with Nate have been…better. Not great, but better. He’s stopped going out as much and she’s been less demanding of him. Their relationship was fractured, yes, but she knew in her heart that after today, it would be repaired and made to last.

She’s in the kitchen when he comes in, jumpsuit wrinkled and dirty. Georgia can smell the sweat on him from five feet away.

“Georgia, I’m—Oh, well look at you,” Nate says, giving her a long look from her head to her feet.

She smiles and gives him a little twirl and when he whistles at her, warmth blooms in her chest. He walks over and wraps her up in his arms. Georgia takes a deep breath, swallows the lump that forms in her throat, and hugs him back.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, looking down at her.

Her hand disappears into her pocket. When she pulls out the pregnancy test and sees Nate’s face, she almost wishes she could photograph it and save it forever.

She takes a deep breath, and her voice doesn’t even crack when she inhales the perfume on his collar. She puts on a smile.

“I’m pregnant.”

#fallout #fallout fic #fallout 4 #fo4 #fic: best laid plans #y'all i am so proud of this chapter & the effects it will have on the fic in later chapters pls give me feedback a;ldskjf

[kavaeroexe]

The fic about the crossover that really good , i can't stop laughing when i image anakin would said that.

Anyway , the new chapter about Elysia make me sad ... I wanna have her so bad but the story aaaa i refused to believe

Can you image Elysia! Reader ,reader have personality like Elysia and the appearance too with Yandere! Star War ? Pretty please

I heard / read Elysia sometime 'gone' that make people panicc , she just like hiding cmiiw👀

Luvv you , have a nice day xoxo

-🐦Anon

OMG ANOTHER GREAT IDEA FOR CROSSOVER-

i’ll give you the prettiest flower~!

Elysia!reader x yandere!star wars character (HC)

warning : typos, bad grammar  

attention! please do not try to repost my works, i only post my works on tumblr, if anyone see someone stole my works please inform me through the comments, tag me in the works, or message me!  

Anakin Skywalker

ayo-

i would say these two is the chaotic together

Anakin is having a high-level of jealousy and you’re the friendly person that like to hangout with everyone

you two good together, its just the jealousy that makes your relationship weird

“You flirt with how many people today?”

“Flirt~? i’m just a sweet talking, and oh! only to Senator Amidala and Rex today!”

“that’s a new record, i hope tomorrow you’ll do none- thank lord the mercy”

because we talking about yandere, i think he ever locked you up once..

no- twice...

three times?

but all of that attempts of him locking you up, you managed to escape easily and without even thinking that he’s locking you up.

“Where did you go?”

“The council, Senator’s room, Visiting the padawans, and Master Kenobi’s room!”

“alright that seems like a nice place to go- wait- MASTER’S ROOM? WHAT FOR?”

“giving flowers~!”

“You giving flowers to many people but me? do you not love me anymore?”

“*gasp* Who said that? oh my sweety baby cheeks my lovey dovey, i prepare you something more than just flowers just for you!”

“really?”

“Yeah~! come on walk with me! i’ll show them to you!”

honestly you’re just taking him around the Jedi Temple and then kiss him sweetly in the quiet place and the last, run!

but you guys a powerful couple, you good at negotiation, distracting and also you’re strong in force + able to masters many forms of lightsaber fight etc, while he’s a good pilot, strong, tall, dominating, and plus you both good at making sudden plan or well-prepared plan

noice

so when you’re gone somewhere or he lost you he’s losing his patience

he kill anybody that he suspects while he’s searching for you

but after all he does, he can’t find you, so he’s badly coming back at his place

“GUYS WE LOSE Y/N’

“CHECK, CHECK THE TRASH COMPACTOR”

“OH KRIFF, WHERE IS SHE?”

but then he saw you, sitting with a tea and wrapping yourself with a blanket, he thought he’s hallucinating

“Welcome home Ani! where have you been? i really miss you... :(”

“Is it really you? i should be the one asking where have you been, im worried sick about you..!!”

Obi-wan Kenobi

he’s the protective yandere

he can’t really like giving you limit about your friendship and locking you up or such, so he’ll just be very protective, so he’s watching you 24/7

he feels relieve when you don’t feel bothered by his appearance most of the time, making sure you’re okay

“You know, Obi, you are a true gentlemen, you guard and making me safe, thankyou for your love, i love it so much~”

you often find him looking out for you 24/7 when he’s free, even though he try to be sneaky 

“No Y/N don’t approach him, i have a bad feeling abut him”

“Remember if someone asking you to stay longer with them, tell them you have a husband” -Obi

“But i don’t have a husband?? we haven’t married ye.. you want us to married theenn~?”

if he’s jealous, he’ll just told himself that ‘come on, Y/N does this everyday’

but if you talking buddy acts to far, he’ll pulling your hand, and then “alright that’s it, you’re coming with me”

even though he’s watching you close, he sometimes just lose you, stupid maybe, but that’s what happened..

“Y/N? where are you? Y/N??”

he puts 100% effort on finding you, telling his clones, telling the other masters, but a bit with acting spice, they didn’t think that he search for you because he’s scared of losing you, just worried for general like losing a not-so-close friend.

and then in the middle of his searching, Cody carrying you, who’s holding a bucket of crown flowers

“Surpriseee, seems that you miss me, doesn’t it master Kenobi?”

this whole time you’re just wandering from place to another place, gathering everything that you catch your eyes on.

when you’re in private, he’ll scold you, but he manages to give you food, sweet drinks and dessert while scolding you, so you eat and listen.

“can you please stop hiding and roaming around the way you likes? i can’t always protect you from somebody who knows!”

but as a form of apologies, you place a kiss in his cheek and a warm tight hug, then let out a giggle

“I’m happy that you’re worried over me, such a gentlemen~”

“I love you, please don’t make me worried again, okay love?”

“Okie dokie!”

Padme Amidala

oh god the lovey dovey couple-

she’s a sweetheart, you’re a sweetheart

if you’re both going as a couple in a formal party, or even a normal party, everybody would say that you both are a happy, full of glitter, romance, fluff couple

y’all are the sweetest couple people could ever see

anything happens to you, she doesn’t insist on releasing her full power to solve it ngl

loves loves loves when you both having a skincare routine or a make up-ing session before both of you start your day

gifting is her way to show her love when she’s not able to show up and cuddles then sharing warmth, so she pick the best jewelry, dress, flower, accessory for you when she has to work most of the day

and every single Padme’s gift that you accept, you’ll wear it when you both have a chance to spend time together

when you’re gone, she’s surprisingly handle it well

connection and money baby

the longest record of her effort finding you that goes missing is 12 hours and 30 minutes

well she remembered it lmao

if you sweet talking or even flirt with your friend or sometimes stranger, she wouldn’t mind

that’s you being you anyway, so no problem she guess

but if somebody flirt with you... alright it depends actually

if you flirt back = soon to be friends 

if you’re silent = mayday mayday, red flag, you’re uncomfortable or worst case, you start to like them

SHE KEPT YOU AWAY LMAO

“Alright here’s the plan, stop meeting them ever again”

“why?”

“They play with at least one woman every day” she could be lying she could tell the truth

“Oh they’re bad... thankyou dear, i’ll take a distance from now on!”

Luke Skywalker

damn this boy is the protective and the paranoid yandere

“No don’t talk to them”

“stay here”

“Y/N, stay right here and wait for me, okay?”

“no don’t go there!”

“You can’t do that!?”

at first, he lets you to have fun with your friends

but the way you’re having fun is your friend makes him reconsider his decision

but he doesn’t want to put a limits on your life, he doesn’t want you to be sad

so he ask Leia, Han, or everyone in the rebellion to keep an eye on her or sumn

“we could watch after her, we promise”

well they lose you anyway

“kriff Luke, we lost her!”

“HOW!?”

well of course he check on the whole place at the base, so does with everybody, and then if he hasn’t found you, he’ll grab his helmet and then using his x-wing to search for you in the whole planet

i swear he drop at least one tear when he’s searching for you 

but guess what?

you’re at the back area of the base

how tf nobody find you in there?

feeding some animals...

okay he forgive you because you look pretty and cute while feeding them

but he will not let you go for the next 24 hours

“i swear you scared me, what if you’re not in the base? what if you’re being kidnapped by the empire and i late to save you? what if you’re being hunted by bounty hunter? oh i can’t lose you you know it!”

“hehe sorry, but at least i’m safe, and that’s all that matters right now right?”

#star wars hc #star wars x reader #yandere star wars #star wars writing #star wars fanfic #luke skywalker #luke x you #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x reader #yandere luke skywalker #yandere anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x y/n #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #yandere obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #padme skywalker #padme x reader #star wars padme #yandere padme

[captainsophiestark]

Error, Flight Not Possible

Poe Dameron x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: Star Wars

Prompt: “Check that again, are you sure?”

Summary: A short little fic about Poe and Y/N, established couple, spending time fixing an X-Wing together. Just a little fic of adorable domestic fluff and teasing.

Word Count: 1,006

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Alright, just one more little tweak..."

I chuckled to myself as my boyfriend shifted around under his X-Wing, tinkering with the engine to try to get it back up and running. I popped another piece of popcorn in my mouth and glanced down at the datapad by my side, waiting for any sign of a change.

I heard a pop, and Poe grunted as he twisted the wrench in his hands for all he was worth. His X-Wing had been pretty beaten up in his latest dogfight, so badly that it needed some serious work to get up and flying again. Poe had been working on it all afternoon, trying to fix the problems. I'd been providing moral support.

"Okay! Let's give this another try."

Poe put together a few wires underneath the ship and started her up, and the engines flared and spluttered to life. He rolled out from under the ship and looked at me hopefully as I turned to examine the datapad.

"Mmm it's still saying Error, Flight Not Possible."

"What? No!" he cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Check that again, are you sure?"

"Yeah, sorry babe," I said, my eyes scanning the datapad one last time before turning back to my boyfriend. I gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's still not working."

"Dammit all to MUSTAFAR."

Poe ducked back under the X-Wing, but I couldn't hold back a laugh at my boyfriend's frustration. He quickly reappeared and fixed me with an incredulous look and a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously? Aren't you supposed to be supporting me right now?"

I gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry babe. It's just... it feels like you should, I don't know. Call a mechanic? Like, a real one? Who works on ships as their primary job, not just as a hobby?"

"Oh, so you have no faith in me. That's what this is about." Poe whined, playing up the drama as he rolled back under the ship. "I see how it is. I never expected you to be the one doubting me, but the more doubters there are, the more people I have to show up!"

I giggled again and stood from my chair, picking up the datapad and heading over to Poe. I crouched down on the shop floor next to him, then pulled over another rolling thing like the one Poe was laying on to work on the ship. I got as comfortable as I could, then rolled under the ship to lay right next to him, close enough that our arms were brushing.

"This is crowded and horrible, and I'm gonna get a bunch of oil on my clothes and in my hair," I announced. Poe turned his head to grin at me, his hair a mess and his face covered in sweat, and I felt my heart speed up a bit.

"That's hot," he said. I laughed and punched him in the arm, and he chuckled as he rolled a few inches away from me from the force. He wasted no time scooting back towards me, pulling my wheely-thing even closer to his with the hand that wasn't holding the wrench.

He leaned towards me, shifting onto his side in the already-cramped space. He had just enough room to turn over, his shoulder brushing the underside of the ship as he did, until he was completely facing me.

"Thank you for joining me down here, my gorgeous moral support," he said with a grin. I huffed and faked annoyance, but couldn't keep a smile off my own face for long.

"Anytime, flyboy. Although I still say you should call a mechanic."

Poe hummed and leaned towards me, steadily eliminating the remaining distance between us. I pulled back slightly, wrinkling my nose at how dirty and sweaty he was. He came to a stop, his mouth dropping open in exaggerated offense, so I sighed.

"Alright, fine. Don't be so dramatic."

He grinned as I reached up and threaded my hand through his hair, pulling him the rest of the way towards me. Our lips met, and just like I thought, Poe tasted like sweat and oil. Still, he was warm and sweet, and as he dropped the wrench and shifted his now-free hand to my waist, I absolutely melted in the comfortable embrace of my boyfriend. I loved him more than anyone or anything in the world, and especially with all the danger and uncertainty that came along with the Resistance, I'd take every second of time I could get with him.

Even if that meant making out under an X-Wing in a tight, hot, dirty space.

"Poe," I muttered, pulling back just slightly as Poe moved to deepen the kiss.

"Yeah, Y/N?" he breathed, nuzzling into the crook between my shoulder and neck and leaving a trail of kisses there.

"I love you so, so much-"

"I love you too."

"But I think we should go back to fixing the ship so we can get the hell out of here as soon as possible."

Poe sighed heavily, then pulled away from me.

"Fine. All the more incentive for me to finish this quickly, I guess. So we can get back to what we were doing a minute ago."

"After you take a shower."

"You know, you could always take a shower wi-"

"Poe!"

"Fine! Fixing the ship."

Poe picked his wrench back up and resumed his tinkering, and I took the opportunity to stare at him with absolutely no shame. A smile slowly rose to my face as I watched him work, and my heart swelled with love. I'd lay under a hundred X-Wings in a million terrible different locations and environments if it meant getting to spend more time with him.

He was the love of my life, after all. And every time it felt a little too hard to keep fighting and a little too easy to quit, he kept me going. No matter how much we teased each other, we were a dream team, through and through.

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