#or put myself on the same side of all the sad men complaining about it being about men being evil

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

im pretty sure this is not a popular opinion which is why i havent said it, but its been on my mind for months now so fuck it, i guess.

you know that post, the one about the barbie movie and margot robbie talking about barbie being a doll with no reproductive organs and sexual desire, and a lot of tumblr users just like, celebrating this as a win for asexuality?

i hate that post. a lot. like a lot a lot.

because while i dont think margot robbies conclusion is wrong (shes a doll), i think calling barbie asexual is inaccurate and it makes me, an ace person, uncomfortable.

like i dont think its a purposeful link, but that comparison very much implies that sexuality and sexual desire is tied to having reproductive organs, which uh no, thats not how that works and i really dislike that implication. idk about you, but i dont like tying my queerness to my biology.

that link is also one that rings of those who presume that there is a universal normative experience, which is also true of the movie itself, see jessie genders video on that. there are many people in the world who have what would be considered atypical reproductive organs and plenty whose reproductive organs can be considered not-working like those who have gone through the menopause, and they are not all ace.

its also just reductive as to what asexuality in general. margot robbies quote was specifically that barbie didnt feel sexual desire, and funnily enough, sexual desire =/= sexual attraction. while i, myself, be a sex-repulsed ace, there are plenty of horny aces who do the fuck. ive already mentioned the fact that im opposed to linking my queerness to biology, and honestly that part only made me more uncomfortable after the movie ended on "im here to see my gynecologist".

also just, barbie is a plastic doll. like thats how she starts in the movie itself. shes not asexual, shes a doll. and idk dude, theres just a part of me that is deeply uncomfortable with tying asexuality with a doll.

like imo, this just isnt the win for asexuality people were treating it as. we can do better than this.

especially considering the way queerness was handled in the film, but again, go watch jessie genders video on it, its better presented than my rambling post

#kai rambles #this has been on my mind for months #everytime i saw that post #i stayed quiet #i didnt say anything #i didnt want to ruin people's fun #which is how i treated all of the barbie movies because people were having fun i didnt want to ruin the fun #or come across as a contrarian #or put myself on the same side of all the sad men complaining about it being about men being evil #because like thats not my opinion but when those are the loudest voices criticising the film #you dont want to join in yourself because i also think their criticisms are dumb and bigoted #but i also think the movie was a vehicle for capitalism and that people are hailing greta gerwig for a middling film that is also an #advert for matel #and that its social commentary is woefully lacking because its just so fucking white #it is a white feminist movie #it is a cishet feminist movie #it does not address or even acknowledge intersectionality #and it is randomly (?) racist towards native americans #like the smallpox line and the uh funny haha barbie version of mount rushmore joke are uh #theyre unnecessary inclusions that show at the very least an ignorance towards native issues and experiences #also like its hard to make your fuck the patriarchy movie when capitalism is a fundamental part of the patriarchy and your movie is also an #also the movie itself links gender with reproductive organs which is not only cisnormative and like fucking #radfem bullshit #but also completely ignores the fact that intersex people exist #...i did not mean to go on a rant #i didnt even like particularly dislike the film i just fucking hated how it was being discussed

[iloveyouinred]

Yandere!Kaveh x Broken Heart!Reader

𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, slight angst at the start, kidnapping, drugging, noncon, creampie, reader is being tied, reader hasn't go through the formal divorce setting but.. nothing holding you back, etc.

𓇬♡ | Word Count: 1.2K

You thought, you won't move away from him for the longest time. Your husband is the prettiest man you know. You were a pair since childhood, and became one in highschool. It was a long happy relationship. Although all that time you spend with him, he shares it with his side bitch too. The moment you found him fucking that blonde hair girl, you don't say a thing. Not even a gasp escapes your mouth as the unrealistic view of your perfect match, your sweet husband, too busy fucking other woman to realize his wife standing at the door, watching them with face as white as ghost.

For the first time since you love him, you feel a crack in your heart. It grows uncontrollably fast, leaving a hollow space in your chest. You cried for hours on the fastest flight that you booked randomly to Sumeru.

"At time like this, a glass of wine always helps." Is what he always said everytime one of you meets any stalemate in the workplace. Teasing your dislike of its bitter taste. Yet you don't complain when he takes you to the bar, because it was his favourite. You still can't understand why men love this bitter drink. You take another sip before gulping down the second glass, trying to understand the reason behind his betrayal as you savour the bitter liquid.

"I hope I die in my sleep." You said with a smile while throwing a blank gaze at the surface of the red liquid.

"Ah, I really hope you don't. I was hoping to familiarize myself with you." A man that just sat down beside you said that in a sad tone, as he put a glass of pink cocktail on the table in front of you. Half of his blonde hair pinned back with a pretty blue feather adorning his hair, with eyes curved down hiding his pair or scarlet orb. You smile ironically. If you were not in this state you might have been captivated by his charming face. Yet here you are.. unable to return the same enthusiasm he shared with you. You take the glass he offers, and chug it down in one take. He watches as the liquid goes down your throat, still with his smile. The stranger that offered drinks to you was seriously great at embracing your melancholy. You would say he is the greatest empath that can even mourn with you at your pet's funeral. While you are busy talking about this and that with him, not keeping count of how many glasses of wine you have consumed. By the time midnight falls, you were already helplessly drunk by how much alcohol was in your system.

"I am Kaveh by the way, can I have your name?" He asks while guiding you to the bar entrance, after putting bags of coins at tables as he talk about something to the bartender.

"...Where are we going?" Your indistinct speech makes it hard to understand what you were saying. He chuckled, seeing how drunk you were. A frown formed on your face upon noticing your blurry sight. Your eyes were unable to focus, but you didn't miss the way his smile widened, almost ecstatic. Yet your eyelid weighs down on you as he sweeps you off your feet, carrying you in his hand.

"You will make a great decoration." He states as you succumb to unbearable drowsiness.

Kaveh loves to decorate his and Alhaitham's home. Pretty decorations always make the place look better. He collected many beautiful vases, paintings, even a pretty little trinket as he travelled. But none of it beats what he found at the tavern last night. A beautiful girl, looking up at him while sucking his cock. Your hand tied behind your back, body bound by rope and pink ribbons. Your sight is unfocused, unaware of what is happening. The last thing you remember is the strange liquid he forced you to take this morning, when you wake up fully naked on his bed. Your brain can not digest the view of your captor in front of you using your mouth to relieve his hard cock.

Your mind feels clouded as your nose stuff with his smell. Heat forming on your lower abandonment. You can feel your own wetness making a mess on your thigh. He cursed as he grabbed your hair, moving your head to bobbed down around his length deeper. You choked back a moan, letting out a muffled sound which made him throw his head to the back. He trembles as the pleasure wash over him. You feel the warm liquid flow down your throat, unable to throw up as he shove his length deep in there. You cough frantically as he pulls out, letting you catch a breath with face flaming red and jaw sore by how long he fuck your mouth.

"Perfect." He cooed at your teary face. His hand cupping your cheek.

You feel him lifting up your stranded body to the couch with your face down on the soft surface, ass facing him from this angle. Kaveh can't help but rub his fingers against your clit, earning a choked moan from you. Two fingers slid easily in your cunt and he happily hummed at how wet you were. He licks his finger that was glistening with your cum while positioning his cock to kiss your pussy lips. He slid it a few times before entering your hole slowly. You can hear him groaning in your ear, whispering curses at the way your hole tightens around his length. His body pressed down on your back as he shoved his length in your gummy walls. Moans slip off your lips as he keeps on hitting the deep spots inside you. Soon stars clouding your sight as your body trembled, cumming just from a few snap of his hips into yours.

It might be the drug that makes your body hopelessly chasing for pleasure, as you start meeting his thrust. He slapped your ass hard enough to leave a red imprint. Mumbling something about what a whore you are, moving your hips for a stranger. Still his thrust grows faster and deeper each second you helplessly moan under him, until he spills his cum in you. Warm liquid pooled under your leg while he turned your body to face him, giving you a deep passionate kiss as he sucked your tongue. Your eyes roll back as you feel he is inside you again. Eagerly thrusting his cum back into your hole. You don't remember how many times you came, but by the time he reach his third climax you were already too fuck out to conherent a proper word. He clicked his tongue at the mess he made. You won't realize he was gone for a second to grab some stuff, if not by the feeling of a warm towel wiping your body.

"I really want to give you a bath.. but Alhaitham will be home soon." Kaveh said while brushing your hair and giving you a quick peck on the cheek. You don't understand what he is saying though, he keeps on rambling while knowing that.

"Be on your best behaviour okay?" He tied the ribbon in your hair and placed you on the couch, head down with ass facing the house entrance. Your body is still trembling. Your mind was filled with the feeling of Kaveh's warm cum in your womb that slowly seeped out, dripping down the couch. Unaware of the sound of the door opening.

Part 2| Part 3

#genshin smut #genshin x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #kaveh smut #yandere kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader smut #ruby'sfic #kaveh #kaveh x you #genshin kaveh #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x f!reader #genshin impact smut #yandere kaveh #genshin #genshin impact x female reader

[angeloroki]

you're the only one — s. todoroki & a. tamaki

— character ; aged up!shoto todoroki x fem!reader, aged up!amajiki tamaki x fem!reader

— request ; Can I request sm? So shouto and tamaki ( feel free to remove any of them if you want to ) having I nightmare about there s/o cheat on them and when they wake up they are kind of upset or insecure and reader comfort them ( fem!reader plz )And don’t feel forced to do it just do it when you want to and ily take care of yourself 😘

— genre ; angst & fluff at the end

— warnings ; insecurity ?

— a/n ; well amajiki's is longer cuz i don't write much about him, i hope you'll like it anyway!

and ty for your request <3 take care of yourself too ily too muah!

shoto todoroki

you turned to the other side, expecting to feel the comforting warmth of your boyfriend at your side. just before you were greeted by an icy morning cold.

reluctantly, and slightly surprised, you opened your eyes to find that, instead of seeing his still beautiful morning face, you saw only a void.

you looked at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was far too early for him to have left.

with a sigh, you grabbed your slippers and dressing gown, and left your warm bed to find a cold you wished you hadn't met so soon.

as you left your room, you ran into shoto in your small kitchen, sipping coffee. a smile slowly came to light up your tired face.

« you're up early today. » you say by way of a greeting.

with slow steps, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. nevertheless, what made you raise your eyebrows was the fact that he was avoiding you. since when was the list of ingredients in the packet of biscuits so interesting?

he greeted you anyway, in a low, monotonous and slightly broken voice.

« what's going on ? »

alerted by his sadness, you took his face in your hands in a matter of seconds. your piercing eyes stared intently at him, ready to relieve his pain whatever it was.

his face was red from crying, and you still had traces of it on his rosy cheeks. he tried to pull away, with a gentle but strong gesture. worried, you bit your upper lip to keep from crying back. it was rare to see him in this state, being usually stoic. few things could put him in such a state.

« nothing, i just had a bad dream. »

your hand remained on his cheek, and you gently forced him to look at you. with a gentle gesture, your other free hand came to meet his, a certain warmth came to warm you despite the morning cold.

« i'm listening baby. »

a long sigh escaped his lips.

« it's not worth it, y/n, just ridiculous. »

you frowned slightly.

« shoto, I'm worried. »

a faint smile stretched his lips slightly. and without you expecting it, he laid his head on your neck. his warm breath made you shiver.

« you abandoned me from one day to the next. without a word, without any explanation. in fact, you left me for another man. and that's how i understood that i wasn't good enough for you.

i know i'm not the ideal man, i'm quite atypical and i don't always show my love for you like other boyfriends do. and sometimes i wonder how a woman as fabulous as you can be with me. »

he stopped.

« you know i'm not stupid, i see how other men look at you. »

as he spoke, you could feel his tears rolling down your chest.

« but i love you. you're the first person i've ever loved this much. you've shown me another side of life that i never got to know because of my father. you've taught me to love y/n. i can't see myself without you. »

your hand came to meet his hair, which you gently stroked. a tear of your own this time came down your face too. you were kind of relieved that it wasn't that bad, although seeing him in that state kind of freaked you out.

« shoto todoroki, listen to me. you're the perfect man for me. you're the one who smiles at me without even meaning to. you're the one who got me to like cold soba. you're the one who comes to warm me up at night in your arms. you're the one i could die for. you're the one who manages to get me to watch the same cheesy romantic movie every night. you're the one i could talk to for hours and days. you're the one person i can see myself spending the rest of my life with. »

you didn't hear him crying anymore. instead, a comforting silence enveloped you both now.

« y/n - »

« you are the man of my life. and i love you like crazy, it scares me a little sometime how much love i have for you. you have no idea. »

with that, you placed a kiss on his lips, which tasted slightly salty from his now dry tears. it was with pleasure that you felt a smile stretch against your lips. his arms came around you in a long, loving hug.

« i love you, y/n l/n todoroki. »

amajiki tamaki

you had finished work earlier so you decided to surprise your fiancé by making his favourite dish.

you hadn't seen him this morning before you left for work, which surprised you a little because he always took the time to come and say hello or give you a kiss.

and now that you think about it, it's true that he hadn't texted you all day, which he usually did too. whether it was to complain about how he embarrassed himself in front of everyoneor just to slip a sweet i love you into your notifications.

had you pissed him off ? you shook your head at yourself, you don't remember if you did. you were probably imagining things.

a few minutes later, you heard the door slam and your boyfriend drop his stuff in front of the entrance. you expected him to come up behind you to give you a long, warm kiss. well, he didn't and probably won't because you heard him lock himself in your room.

you raised an eyebrow. something was wrong.

with a quick step, and slightly apprehensive, you joined him, and came upon a tamaki curled up in a ball in your bed.

you sat down next to him, putting your hand gently on his shoulder.

« tell me what's wrong. »

« i don't know what you're talking about. »

you flinch slightly at the tone of his voice. hard and cold it was. which was a big change from his usually soft and warm voice.

the high school amajiki had grown up, matured. you were able to be by his side as he evolved, he was now a confident and strong man. although old habits die hard

« huh ? did i do something ? »

he finally met your gaze, and it didn't match his tone. full of melancholy, his eyes were bright. he had been crying.

your expression, which at first was slightly annoyed, became more and more panicked. your hands automatically came to meet his, but they refused to meet them.

« tell me what the fuck is wrong ! »

« i - i don't know if it's a good idea for us to get married. »

you swallowed hard. the words stuck in your throat, you didn't understand what had just happened.

« w-why ? » you asked silently.

« i'm not good enough for you, you deserve better. let's stop kidding ourselves. »

an unpleasant heat came over your face, it was anger rising.

how could he know that you deserved better ? didn't your unconditional love for him count for anything ?

« why- why are you saying all this now ? »

it wasn't like him. he had a tendency to doubt himself sometimes, but he had never doubted your love for each other.

« isaw that you had cheated on me. in a dream, of course. you seemed happy with this man. he was everything i wasn't. perfect. i don't want you to waste your time with me, i don't want you to make the mistake of your life by getting engaged to me... i'm just a waste of time, well i've always been anyway. you must think i'm exaggerating and being ridiculous... i probably am... »

he lowered his head as he spoke, now refusing to look you in the eye. it was as if he were eighteen again, the shy and anxious teenager who refused to make eye contact with anyone when he was embarrassed.

a slight gasp escaped your lips.

your hands finally met his, you smiled softly when he didn't try to pull away. you let the silence settle comfortably between you, letting the gestures express your thoughts.

your soft gestures that had already comforted him many times in the hardest moments as well as in the most joyful ones. the same ones that had always succeeded in making him feel loved and safe in your fusional relationship.

he relaxed little by little in your arms, letting all his doubts fly away with this tension that paralyzed his muscles.

you finally spoke up when you were in a fairly comfortable position, both in each other's arms.

« amajiki, baby. i could never be this happy with anyone else. and i mean it. you're the one i grew up with, loved, cried with, laughed with. how can you say you're a waste of time? sweetie, even if we broke up, i'd be happy to tell everyone i loved a great man like you. but i know that's never going to happen, because i'm ready to say yes to you when the time comes. »

his grip around your waist tightened slightly.

« i - »

a tear rolled down your cheek. It wasn't sad, it represented all the love you had for him.

« you don't have to say anything, just kiss me tamaki. »

with your eyes closed, you felt his lips against yours. he had a gift for giving sweet kisses too.

« let me make you the happiest of brides y/n.. »

#bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto todoroki x you #amajiki x y/n #amajiki x reader #amajiki x you #tamaki x y/n #tamaki x you #amajiki tamaki x reader

[duffs-shot-glass]

I Won't Tell (Axl Rose)

I Won’t Tell

Axl Rose x Reader

Fluff, Angst??

WARNINGS: profanities

Word Count: 1,597

Y/N’s POV:

The sun’s bright rays shone down on me through the window. I opened my eyes slightly and looked at my alarm clock. 8:30 AM. Fuck. Izzy would be picking me up at 9:00 to meet his band. Instantly I threw the covers off of my body and sat up on the bed. The cold air rushed over my legs giving me goosebumps. I put on my fuzzy black slippers and trudged into the bathroom across the hall. There were hygiene products all over the white marble counter. I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when I heard the doorbell ring. I dropped my makeup brush on the counter and rushed to the door.

I turned the golden doorknob and opened the door to see Izzy. His lanky figure stood before me. He was wearing black jeans and a purple button up shirt. The first few buttons were undone and he had cowboy boots. “Hey Y/N! You ready?” I looked down at myself and then back at him with a questioning look. “Iz?” “Yeah?” “I’m still in my pajamas,” he laughed slightly. “Oh right. Haha” I rolled my eyes and walked back into the bathroom. Izzy closed the door and sat on my couch in the living room. I picked up the makeup on the counter and brushed my teeth. On the way to my bedroom I saw Izzy in my kitchen. “Izzy!” I yelled through the house. “What?!” He yelled back. “No beer! You have to drive a car, remember!” I could hear the annoyance in his voice when he responded. “Fine.” I laughed to myself before looking at the outfits I had to choose from. My eyes landed on a skirt. I never wore skirts unless it was a special occasion. I would always complain that my jeans were more comfortable. I had never met any of the boys in the band except for Izzy and I wanted to make a good impression. I took the skirt out of my dresser and sat it on my bed. It was black with small white flowers on it and it dropped to about five inches above my knees. I looked in my closet and found a white crop top. This would match nicely. I got dressed and walked out of the bedroom. Izzy’s eyes widened when he saw me. “What- I mean why um” he cleared his throat, “why are you uh wearing that Y/N?” I smiled at his shock. “Just wanted to make a good first impression.” I said as I headed towards the door of my apartment. Izzy followed me out the door and to his car. “Yeah good first impression my ass Y/N. Listen I have one rule ok just one rule.” He opened the driver’s side door and hopped in the car. I got into the passenger's seat and the car started. “Ok Iz. What?” I buckled my seatbelt and we started down the road. “You are not allowed to have any romantic shit with any of these assholes you understand?” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look me in the eyes. “Ugh. Fine Izzy whatever the hell you want.” I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. Izzy knew I was joking but I couldn’t lie. It might be nice to be in a relationship. Izzy turned the radio up and we listened to various rock bands on the way there. The car stopped when we reached a small house. “Alright well this is it.” He said as he pulled the keys out of the car. “Whose house did you say this was again?” I said looking at the house out of my window. “Oh uh Axl’s. Come on, let's go inside.” He stepped out of the car and waited for me to follow. When we got to the porch of the house Izzy knocked on the large black door. When the door opened there was a man standing there. He was tall. Extremely tall. He had blonde hair and a bottle of vodka in his hand. “Izzy!” He cheered as he pulled Izzy into a ‘bro hug’. “Who is the chick?” My eyes widened slightly at the nickname. What had I gotten myself into. “Duff this is Y/N. Y/N this is Duff.” Izzy smiled widely as I shook hands with the tall blonde apparently known as ‘Duff’. I muttered a “hello” to the man as Izzy led me past him and into the house. In the living room was a couch and a coffee table. On the couch sat another blonde, not as tall as the first one though. He grinned widely at me and waved like a little child. I giggled slightly at his friendliness. Next to him on the couch was another man. He had a mop of dark curls on his head and was downing a bottle of Jack Daniels. Izzy told me to socialize and walked into the living room joining the other two. I on the other hand felt quite uncomfortable being there and decided to wander about. I walked into the kitchen and picked up a partially empty beer bottle. Hopefully this is just beer. I took a swig of the liquid and yes. Thankfully it was just beer. I wandered the house a little bit more, and stumbled upon an empty bedroom. Inside were the traditional things. A bed, nightstand, dresser, but one thing drew my attention. In the corner of the room, next to a window, was a desk. I

walked up to the desk and observed the papers laying on top. There was paper after paper of writings. When I looked closer I realized something. They were song lyrics. I read the lyrics and was taken back by how good they were. I was about to pick up one of the papers when I heard a voice from behind me. “What are you doing in here?” The voice wasn’t mad or upset, just curious. I shakily turned around to see a man with long red hair. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, and his smile was astonishing. “I- uh..I’m sorry I was just leaving.” I tried to scurry out of the room but the man stopped me. “Hey it’s ok you don’t need to be nervous.” He touched my shoulders lightly and looked into my eyes. “I’m Axl by the way.” He now reached his hand out for me to shake. I took his hand in mine and looked into his eyes. “Y/N” I said. A smile creeped onto his face as he looked behind me. “So you were reading my lyrics huh?” He chuckled airily. “Your lyrics?” He walked to the desk and picked up a piece of paper. “Yeah I wrote 'em a little while ago.” He looked down at the paper. “They’re lovely.” I said, now standing next to him. His eyes met mine and I got goosebumps. “Thanks sweetheart.” I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks from the nickname. He looked up and laughed slightly. “You like the nickname huh?” I looked down almost ashamed. “Hey it’s alright you don’t have to be embarrassed” he said. He used his finger to lift my chin. I looked into his eyes and melted. He was so beautiful. I usually didn’t call men beautiful but he was. His face inched closer to mine and I could feel my heart beating at an extreme rate in my chest. He stopped when his face was just an inch away from mine. “Axl?” I said. He was staring at my lips when he answered. “Yes?” He had lowered his voice and it felt intoxicating. “We… we can’t do this.” I said and backed away from him. He looked at me with sad eyes. “Why? I thought you...I thought you felt the same.” He furrowed his brow. I did feel the same. I really did. But what about Izzy’s rule? I wasn’t allowed to be romantic with any of the members of the band. “I do Axl.” I hugged him. He hugged me tightly and sat his chin on my head. “Then why? Why can’t we be together?” I looked up at him. “Izzy said I’m not allowed to be with any of you.” Axl nodded his head. “Y/N trust me Izzy will get over it and besides you're a grown woman! You don’t have to listen to what Izzy says.” His green eyes darted between my Y/E/C ones. There were no words to describe how much I wanted to kiss the man in front of me. He was perfect. A perfect example of..well..perfect. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I pressed my lips to his lightly. Axl was shocked at first but then began to kiss me. The kiss was soft and slow, but so full of desire. He slid his tongue over my bottom lip asking for entrance which I happily obliged. Our tongues fought for dominance, but of course he won. He continued to kiss me, but my heart seemed to jump out of my chest when I heard the door behind me open. I broke away from Axl and turned to look and see who it was. Standing there in the doorway was a curly haired man with a top hat. Axl began to speak, “Slash plea-” but slash cut him off. “Don’t worry Ax...I won’t tell Izzy.” The man smirked devilishly and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Hello! ~ Thank you for reading this imagine! I hope you liked it! Have a great day and remember you are beautiful! :) ♥︎

#gnr #gnr imagines #gnr x reader #axl rose #axl rose x reader #axl rose imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #saul hudson #slash #steven adler #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #80's

[mk-wizard]

The real problem with female characters: it’s YOU, babes (hear me out)

Hello

For too long, I didn’t know what to say about the subject of fictional feminism because I thought it was because I was neutral since fictional characters are not real and everyone tends to be exaggerated, but... deep down, I felt torn because I am a complex person; I’m a woman who proudly identifies as a feminist though at the same time, I’m an artist who believes in freedom of expression. However, after seeing the unkind and unforgiving backlash towards Masters of the Universe: Revelations especially towards Teela’s complex character, the final nail in the coffin has been hammered and I have picked a side and it gave me a lot of clarity...

I have decided to side with my fellow artists BECAUSE I am a feminist and the real problem isn’t the female characters or even the creators who make them. At one time it was, but not anymore or at least not for a large majority of the female characters out there. The real problem is the way the female community reacts towards every single female character that gets produced especially if she is beautiful. It makes me sad to say it because I’m a woman myself, but this is the real problem. Every time a female character is introduced, it doesn’t matter if she is brave, intelligent, hard working, determined, kind or interesting. The instant she so much as breathes the wrong way according to women, she is labelled as “problematic” even when many women in real life are just as guilty of doing it to or worse yet, defend the same action/trait in real life!

The best example of this hypocrisy and double standard is how in real life, the feminist community makes a huge point of taking a stand against slut shaming hence the Slut Walk in how it reminds us that women who are beautiful and dress sexy still deserve to be treated like ladies. However, the number one complain I hear from these same women is that the way the Disney Princesses and comic book heroines look and dress objectifies women. In other words, these women want us to judge the beautiful woman in sexy clothes by her character and just let her enjoy the right to dress how she wants, but they don’t even do that for a fictional woman.

Another example is when a female character makes a mistake even with good intention, she is practically put on the stake to be burned, but when a male character does wrong (even if it is the same mistake), nobody says anything. I am all for women being held accountable for their mistakes, but making mistakes is part of a hero’s growth in order to become a better person which includes a better female person. And in some cases, the character is just supposed to be bad and that is ok too. After all, we have bad male characters who might I add are often deemed as sexy for being bad by women. You cannot wish for complex relatable female characters who are human, then get disgruntled for not being perfect little saints after. It isn’t fair and it is a complete contradiction.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are still some badly written female characters, but when I read the criticisms made by other women on a lot of these female characters and they leave me wondering if we are even talking about the same ones. It is like watching the overly demanding mother towards a daughter. The mother wants her daughter to be herself, independent, to take risks and think for herself, but when the daughter does just that, the mother turns around and scolds her for doing that. In reality, the mother isn’t disappointed because the daughter acted out of line. She clearly didn’t. The mother is disappointed because deep down, the mother has learned the hard way that giving her daughter complete agency over herself means that she will do things that the mother hoped she wouldn’t. However, the mother fails to realize that the daughter isn’t being a bad girl for just being different from what her mother hoped she would be like.

And that is the very point of feminism that many women seem to forget. Just as men shouldn’t telling women what to do or cross examining each one of our actions, women shouldn’t be doing that to each other. There is no right or wrong way to be the woman you are because a woman should never be denied the right to be herself for better or worse.

And that is the mindset and standard we should have when looking at these female characters. And before making any criticism towards their actions or how they dress, always ask yourself this, would you do the same thing if they were a man or better yet, a real woman?

Instead of being so judgmental towards the wave of complex and varying female characters, we should be rejoicing that we got what we wanted: female characters who can do anything male ones can do which includes being human, being silly or being flawed. And yes, those are things to celebrate because it is proof that they have grown out of the Mary Sue, token female and love interest only roles!

Let’s start celebrating the female characters even if they do things we wouldn’t do because that is part of what makes them great.

#feminism #fictional females #fictional characters #feminist #support women #strong female lead #strong female protagonist #strong female characters #he-man #she-ra #teela #catwoman #wonder woman #garnet #amythest #pearl #rose quartz #harley quinn #batgirl #supergirl #batwoman #huntress #dr. ogden #scarlet witch #captain marvel #black widow #sakura #sailor moon #tokyo mew mew

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 12

First

Previous

Next

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim had exactly zero idea what was going on.

Marinette had disappeared into the shower so he’d figured that, hey, work was over and he was 90% sure it was the day she usually shaved (something he knew because every time she shaved she excitedly asked him to touch her leg because it was smooth) so he had time to kill…

He walked over to her jewelry box.

He’d already bugged all of the new jewelry he had bought her but her old stuff was perfectly intact and he kind of wanted more insurance. Sure, they lived together now so it was unlikely she would have much reason to leave without him, but he was known for his millions of plans and contingencies and he wasn’t about to mess up when it was someone he cared about.

So, he went to work on the first necklace he grabbed. It had a tiny cat with green emeralds for eyes.

He looked at the tiny black pupils that the cat had. He pulled a tiny pick out of his pocket and carefully started carving a circle in it for the bug.

And then a bug-shaped god came flying out of the door for something.

There were a few beats as Tim and Tikki stared at each other.

Tikki broke it with a loud groan.

He watched her float past him for the towel hung on Marinette’s bedpost and then go back inside.

Shit.

He darted towards the bathroom, only to pause at the door. He really didn’t want to burst in while Marinette was probably naked, that was a huge breach of privacy, but he also didn’t want Tikki to tell him about all the bugs he was planting! Shit! He bit his lip, considering.

“Here’s your towel, Marinette,” Tikki said with a sharp edge to her tone.

“... are you mad?”

“Not at you. Where are the cookies you baked last night?”

“Uh, the fridge --?”

“Thank you.”

Why hadn’t she told her? Tim wasn’t complaining, of course, but he was a little confused. She was clearly mad about it and he doubted that Marinette had made some rule that said ‘you can’t tell me about people bugging me’ because that was oddly specific and not a very good idea… so… what?

He didn’t know. He was just going to thank the god of luck -- he was pretty sure that was Tikki -- and continue what he was doing.

~

Marinette didn’t have to struggle to keep everyone inside the first night. She liked that. More time to plan.

But how did she get herself let out, you may ask?

Remember how Tim had said that all-hands-on-deck situations are the only exceptions to the Stay Inside While Injured Rule? Well, guess what had happened.

Arkham had had a huge breakout and Marinette wasn’t going to complain… even if her kwami might be a little disappointed in how happy she was about it.

She was even happier when she’d found out that one of the people that had broken out was Scarecrow. She’d been meaning to tell him about her guesses about his brownie recipe for a while and she hadn’t really had a chance to do it when she was talking to him through a phone with a thick glass between them.

Batman -- Bruce? -- didn’t need to know that they’d broken into a bakery for the night to test out their theories before she had taken him back to Arkham.

He’d thank them when he got the brownies (the missing ingredient was Mexican cinnamon!). Or, at least, she hoped he would.

~

Tim had to say… Marinette's plan to get everyone in her house was working.

He could warn his siblings but, honestly, he found it kind of funny.

He was surprised to see Jason show up first. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Didn’t know you were in town, Flamebird.”

Jason did an exaggerated eye roll that Tim swore he could see despite the domino. “Marinette said she had something she wanted to show me.”

And she did. She walked over and dropped the Harry Potter books onto the window ledge beside him. “This is terrible and I hate you for making me read them.”

“It gets better later on --.”

“I read two books. That’s six hundred pages. If you can’t get your shit together in six hundred fucking pages then you don’t deserve my time.”

He scoffed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Read it. It’s been years for you, right? Get to book three and tell me it’s good.”

Jason scowled and grabbed the books, taking a seat in the armchair.

Tim grinned and rested an arm around his girlfriend. “You don’t actually hate Harry Potter, do you?”

“Only the book version.”

He frowned. “I think we need to break up.”

“Nope. Not allowed to break up with me.”

“Oh, well, if I’m not allowed then I guess I won’t,” he said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to her lips.

There was a groan from the window and they both rolled their eyes, turning to look at Damian.

“Why must you sully my good mood so early on with your disgusting displays of affection?”

“It’s our apartment, you just so happen to be here,” said Tim, glaring at his brother. “We can do what we want.”

Marinette, bravely, stepped between the two of them with a bright smile. “Now, boys, it’s not the time.”

“It is not the time for your libido, and yet...” argued Damian.

“Please, that isn’t even close to libi --,” Tim started, only to get elbowed in the stomach.

She gave him a look that told him to let her handle it and, while he didn’t think that was a good idea, he held up his hands in surrender.

“Robin, it’s unbecoming of you to argue with everyone you meet,” she chided lightly.

… did she speak Damian or something? Because Damian actually looked a little reprimanded at that and Tim needed to learn her ways.

Then, she leaned down with a grin. He could see her hands start to rest on her knees but she thought better of it at the last second. “I got some new stuff from the pet store and I wanted to know if you wanted to help test them out on Vanelope.”

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly. “What kinds of new things?”

“A bunch of cat toys.”

“... I suppose I can test them out for you.”

“I mean, I said you could help --,” she started, but Damian was already heading towards Vanelope without her.

Tim looked over at his girlfriend. She didn’t seem all that put out by this.

“You really had something planned out for everyone?”

She smirked and took a seat on the windowsill. “Yep. It should take Flamebird about two days to finish the first two books -- assuming he can even get through them that quickly -- and Robin is sure to be very thorough in his testing of all the cat toys.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan for everyone else?”

She shrugged just slightly. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

When Dick appeared she set him up with Beat Saber, saying that she was curious about why the VR glasses gave her a headache and wanted to see if he had the same problem. Tim knew the problem was that they were made for men and therefore sometimes had negative side effects for women, but he bit his lip before he could offer to get a set custom-made for her in favor of watching Dick select the poppiest pop song in existence and instantly get addicted to the game.

Tim raised his eyebrows slightly when Steph appeared, textbook in hand.

“How did you know everyone would show up?” He asked once Marinette had set her up with a particularly long and difficult worksheet to make sure she got the lesson.

“Well, Spoiler shows up every Saturday night for tutoring, Robin comes by every other day or more and he didn’t stop by last night, Nightwing pops by most weekends, and I called Flamebird over myself… speaking of which…” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Right, Signal said he’ll be here in ten minutes seven minutes ago… so, he’s almost here.”

Tim grinned. “You forgot Cass.”

“She only ever really shows up to get away from all of you guys so, with everyone here, she’d have no reason to come over.” Her face split into a sheepish grin. “Also, she’d see through me pretty quickly.”

“Don’t you want B to have no help?”

She shrugged. “It should be a light night since almost everyone important is in Arkham right now but that doesn’t mean that the two of them can deal with all of Gotham’s petty crime on their own. I give them until three or four before they crack.”

“... you might be a little scary.”

“You don’t last long as a vigilante if you’re not at least a little smart,” she chirped. “I just choose to turn my brain off most of the time.”

He smiled. “Oh? And the exception is what? Making you stay inside?”

She waved him off. “Kind of. It’s more that I only put effort into making sure I’ll never be bored. What’s the point of thinking about anything else? All that does is make you sad.”

Well that didn’t sound healthy, now did it? Tim was pretty sure that was just repression but, honestly, he had no clue. His family famously did not use therapists.

Before he could figure out how to address that there was a knock on the door.

Marinette grinned and opened it to reveal Duke, who was holding a computer.

Duke looked around the apartment, raising his eyebrows at all the people there. “Uh… should I ask?”

“I’m spiting Bruce.”

“Wild. Whatever. Ready for GBBS?”

“Sure. Tim, you gonna watch it with us?”

He hesitated. Steph had been sending him pleading looks since she had gotten her worksheet and he felt kind of bad for her… but then Duke and Marinette sat on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder lazily to get a better view of the computer and Tim figured that Steph was smart enough to do the worksheet on her own if she really tried.

He took a seat beside her and smiled a little when she switched to lean against him instead.

“So, who’s your favorite person for the season?” He asked.

She thought for a minute before shrugging. “The guy that always wins but keeps being anxious about his bakes. Forgot his name, though.”

“Rahul?!” said Duke.

“Sure.”

Duke frowned. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you like at least one contestant, be proud it’s Rahul, or be annoyed you didn’t remember his name.”

“Character development takes time,” said Tim wisely.

Marinette scoffed a little. “Just put on the damn show. I’m tired of listening to you assholes talk.”

Duke grinned. “Fine. Fine.”

Time passed as the three of them watched the show.

Other family members slowly made their way over one by one. Damian brought the cat with him. Jason came over to give his brain a break after all the reading he had done (and then, when Marinette pointed out that you never take breaks while reading good books, had gone straight back to Harry Potter). Steph decided she didn’t want to pass her class and came to lay across the top of the couch. Dick eventually got tired and rested his body after the intense game that is Beat Saber.

… B released her at almost exactly three thirty. They ignored their comms in favor of continuing to watch the season finale.

~

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she preemptively turned off the notifications on her phone. Tim did the same.

They typed up matching tweets about how they were moving in with their partners, tagged each other...

Their fingers hovered over the tweet buttons.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of my siblings will do something stupid in a few days and the media will leave us alone,” said Tim.

She smiled awkwardly. “That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

He frowned just a little and slipped his arm around her. “Well, can I help with whatever it is?”

She hesitated. It would be better to warn him, she supposed. “Not really. You’re going to get the ‘shovel talk’ --.”

“My dad is Batman, Bean, I’ll live.”

“-- by the person who currently controls the embodiment of chaos and destruction.”

His face paled a little (which is dangerous, considering he was already pale enough). “Does Chat Noir not know we’re dating yet?”

“Nope.”

“... so he’s going to find out through the media?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

She nodded her agreement, curling into his side and glaring at the phone.

Adrien was going to be pissed. Especially since he was going to learn through the media. Sure, that was the intention, she was hoping that Tim would be left more or less alone because her friend would be too busy being hurt about not being told to focus on his anger at her boyfriend… but, yikes, she didn’t really want to deal with that just yet.

Also, she thought with a wince, Adrien was going to be even angrier when he figured out that she hadn’t exactly given up, as he called it, ‘stalking’ the people she was interested in. Marinette was pretty sure that Tim already knew about some of it but she wasn’t completely sure and, just in case, she wanted to keep it a secret for a while… a few years, at least, and she wanted to be the one to tell him because she was sure that Adrien would be a lot harsher about it than she would. He already called it ‘stalking’ when it was clearly different, she didn’t want to know what he would say if she let him talk about it in more depth.

Unfortunately, though, Adrien wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually catch on. The longer they dated without him knowing the guiltier he would assume she was.

She sighed and took his face in her hands. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not sure. I’m leaning towards being public but...”

He bit his lip as he considered it. She fought the urge to stretch his face until he let go.

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I’ve lived long enough, I think.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll summon a lucky charm for you,” she half-joked.

He gave a puff of laughter that wasn’t quite real and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bean, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. This is Gotham, no one dies here.”

“We don’t know how long that’ll take, though,” she said with a pout. “I’d prefer to have you back as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll always have my siblings.”

“But I want you,” she huffed. “You’re my favorite.”

She felt his cheeks warm beneath her hands.

“I’m your second favorite,” he reminded her. “Cass.”

She snickered. “True. You’re my favorite until Cass accepts my proposal.”

“Hm. I’ll have to enforce the bro code to make sure that never happens.”

“Oh no! I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever, then. What a shame!”

He smiled brightly. Sometimes she lamented the fact that he didn’t give a lot of genuine smiles. The grins and smirks were nice, of course, but she liked to watch the way he would duck his head slightly to try and cover his face with his bangs. Still, in the privacy of her own head, she had to admit that the fact she could get such a smile out of him when few others could made her heart rate spike. He smiled for her. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?

She pulled the smile that she loved so much down for a kiss.

~

The first time they stepped out the door as an official couple they were hounded by reporters.

Tim wanted to ask how they knew where they lived. He settled for asking them to blur the area around them.

It was more than a little annoying to be harassed on your way to the grocery store. They had just wanted eggs, milk (Marinette kept leaving it out for some strange reason), some cat food, and enough miscellaneous snacks to keep Cass occupied. They did not want cameras shoved in their faces.

But years of being public figures had trained them to keep pleasant smiles on their faces and to answer questions with as little information as possible.

Finally, though, they made it inside and a manager kicked out the reporters.

Marinette let her shoulders slump a little beneath his arm and Tim flexed the muscles in his face before it could get stuck in that awkward half-smile forever.

He squeezed her a little. “You alright?”

She shrugged as much as she could without displacing his arm. “Yeah. Just… hate reporters.”

He nodded his understanding. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Want to buy some Oreos while we’re here?”

Her face lit up. “Can we?”

“I’m rich. Of course we can.”

And, so, they did. He made a mental note to start buying oreos in bulk. All the flavors, just in case she ever got sick of the normal version.

They glanced out the door and, though they couldn’t see the paparazzi waiting just outside, they were sure that they would be back soon. They ducked through back alleys to try and get away.

Only to stop in the middle of a dark alley at the high-pitched cry of: “Give me your money or else!”

Tim sighed and set down the cat food to hand over everything in his pockets. A glance back at Marinette confirmed she was doing the same --.

And then he stopped short. He turned more fully to look at their mugger and then started to laugh.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Said the mugger, who was just a kid. They might not have even hit puberty yet.

“With a pocketknife?” Tim said.

Marinette turned around as well at that and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my gods, that’s so lame.”

“It’s Gotham, you gotta do better than that,” said Tim. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife. He handed it over. “Here, have this, at least. Christ, that’s terrible.”

The kid didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact that his would-be victims were laughing at her and apparently helping her mug people.

Marinette handed over everything except for the necklace Tim had given her. “Here, kid. And get a mask or something to hide your face, it’s not nearly dark enough in here for you to just go with a hood.”

“Oh, and here’s my address,” added Tim. He typed it into his phone -- damn, he should have brought more than a pager -- and then handed it over. “We always have a lot of extra food, so if you ever need it just knock on the window.”

“... thanks?” said their now adoptive kid (they didn’t make the rules, this kid was theirs now).

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Can we go now? One of his siblings is coming over soon and he will start our show without us.”

“Uh… sure?”

~

Marinette sat on the kitchen island, squinting at the cast on her arm. Was it worth taking off for the sake of doing work? Maybe --.

Tim’s voice crackled through her ear and she perked up a little at the sound, smiling. He was talking, greeting guests it seemed. Right. He had a meeting today, Janet had mentioned it earlier that morning.

Marinette sighed a little at the reminder that, while she might not care about her broken arm, her boyfriend did. Yeah. Tim would probably be stressed if she took off her cast before the doctor said it was okay. She settled to lay back on the counter, head resting on her good arm, and stare at the ceiling as she listened to his voice...

Only to dart up when she felt a tap on her arm.

She looked over, eyes blown wide, and only relaxed slightly when she realized she recognized the person.

Adrien stood over her, arms crossed over his chest despite the glasses/miraculous he had hooked to the collar of his shirt, but he apparently wasn’t angry enough to not accept the usual kisses on both cheeks that Parisians did as greeting.

He said something that she couldn’t really understand with the part of her brain still concentrated on Tim explaining some sort of chart.

She sighed and reached a hand to her ear to turn off the bug. “Hey, can you repeat that?”

He didn’t. Instead he squinted at her ear suspiciously. “Does your ear hurt?”

“... no?” She said slowly, a little confused.

“Whatcha listening to?”

She paled. Shit. He was going to be pissed (or, at least, more pissed than he already was) if he found out that her supposed ‘stalking’ was getting worse. She needed an excuse.

“Uh, that one rapper, uh --.”

“BS. You don’t listen to rappers.”

He held a hand out and, reluctantly, she handed it over to him. She might as well get her murder over with.

He set it in his ear and, after a few attempts, turned it on. His face soured even more, somehow.

“This better not be who I think it is.”

She gave a tentative half-smile.

That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and started dragging her through the streets.

No one helped. Not that she expected them to, it was Gotham, but it was still a little hurtful.

Adrien stopped suddenly after a few minutes of walking.

“... wait… where’s his office?”

#ignore me i need to yell about my dentist appointment in the tags #so they let me watch movies in there right #well i sit down in the uncomfy ass chair and guess what #i watch an ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE before they even come over #and then the people doing it dropped things in my fucking mouth #and then they had the AUDACITY to comment on the fact that i was shaking #like bitch youve cut my mouth three times already of course I'm scared #fucking dumbass #alright im done #stalker x stalker #AND ANOTHER THING #jkjk #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

#yamato tenzo #yamato x reader #naruto x reader #naruto one shot #yamato one shot #naruto imagines #tenzo #naruto #naruto shippuden #sorry for getting this out so late i was so tired from my new accelerated geography class i almost died #but here we are #my sick ass will have the second one out probably tmr night maybe sunday morning #yamato imagine

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Lost boys backstorys

I made a post while ago on my ideas of the boys past but now I want to update it. I just want you to know I’m still a firm Prequel lover/follower however we don’t get much info on the boys Pre 1906, so that’s what this is for! However personally I would have had more Max so this is going to be both pre 1906 but also include relationship with Max a bit.

I am also including my personal ideas on Last names and age. However I am under the idea that they wouldn’t know/take their last name seriously if the did know it cause- ya know. Orphans. This is going to be lengthy and I’m going to pin it, not just because I want it seen but also to remind myself in fic writing (when I don’t follow these ideas in a fic it’s gonna be Marked as Au- as I’ll probably be messing around with a different past.)

I’ll be doing appearance but only physical as there’s some stylistic changes. For clothing? Honestly so thinking workers clothes/cowboy esc

Also! Their stories are all going to kinda intertwine so I’d there’s not enough info under one theirs a solid chance there’ll be more for them under someone else’s!

David Hardy-

Age(as of 1906): 19

Born: 1887

Appearance: Average height, his hair a dirty blond- near reddish and is around shoulder length. Bearded. (Think doc but with slightly updated clothing)

Backstory:

David Is the only of the boys to grow up with at least one of his parents, living with his mother until her death when he was around 7. They lived in a decent, though cramped little space in San Francisco, by the docks. His father worked on and off- a not so stable style ending in him getting involved in not doing saviory things - getting arrested. His mother worked as a washerwoman. David worked the streets awhile, as a young child now left alone, he learned to pickpocket and live off what he could manage. It was around this time he had found Marko- doing the same thing he was - though arguably less effectively do to his more sporadic nature. At around age 10 the two became extremely close and rather inseparable, Marko even looking up to him despite being the older of the pair. However david wasn’t one to living completely criminal like... he did NOT want to be his father, which lead him to not drinking , EVER. (Even as a vampire he still doesn’t do alcohol.) he poked towards more honest work, also forcing Marko into doing the same , which he wasn’t exactly thrilled about- but did anyway. Tried. David did a lot of work on the docks, odd jobs and stuff like that- but it never paid even half as good as nabbing a wallet or cheating at cards. He wouldn’t be his father- he’d be better- better then all the nobody’s. More level headed then Marko though  ambitious, big headed and still wildly child like- eventually Paul , Dwayne and Jasper joining the pair. Well now, David had himself a full on gang. Never robbery, not that far. The group pickpocketed , cheated at any sort of game or match, that sort of thing... they were still young after all. Smart enough not to go wild like some famous bandit (Though David will admit to his slight admiration of Billy the kid.). He’s a quick learner, and when he learns something- he learns it well- becomes a damn near expert. When he is good at something he is good at it. He is the leader out of the groups mutual respect towards him , quick thinker. Notable flaws: Huge ego, hopeless romantic.

Marko Connelly-

Age(as of 1906): 20

Born: 1886

Appearance: on the shorter side, golden - darker brown hair in this fluff of ringlets it’s long about just past his shoulder blades and typically tied back. Usually dirty somehow (Think Poli but with longer hair and updated clothing)

Backstory:

Born to a rich family , one of those who moved from east to west and actually did make it big. He was a pretty little thing, more a doll to his mother then particularly a child- only taken from Nanny to be dotted over or photos taken. However around the age of 3 or 4 things had tipped, scandal! Missing. That is what the newspapers said anyway he was found missing- was it that he was given away? Or stolen? He was never particularly a child to be quite or sit still or anything such as that... so who is to say? Marko doesn’t remember a lick of that either way as he was far far to young for it but he does remember being alone. This is how he had grown his attachment to birds, they always stuck around. He grew comfortable with being alone, having himself to depend on, getting good at grabbing what he needs- A mansion is stark contrast to dirty winding alleyways. He was always cursed with his looks- even filth covered at 6 he could make sad eyes and tend to swindle whatever he wanted... but he wasn’t completely quick. He’d get in trouble, his face memorable he could rarely pass the same trick again. At 11 David came across him, the two started working and living together (that is where they could find a place to sleep.) he sort of gained this complex. He felt he owed David , in some strange sense he became attached at the hip- a helper, a second- almost servant like the guy had saved his life and he is now the others. It didn’t help that at a young age, Marko had developed what was come to be understood as a deep crush- at times as teens this was reciprocated. As loyal and loving as he was to the other male he wasn’t nearly as cautious, as rule following... he had come to despise authority, to despise the fancy, the rich all of the crowd. He was never sure why. Even regular work got on his hate list... but he gave in and would try to do a normal amount pf work.. it never really worked as there was something, how he would sass, how he looked or smelled or spoke (neither him nor David really spoke ‘proper’ English - meaning no slang or accent). Around when Paul came things started to shift in the group, more mouths- more work and more thinking. Oh yea David and his thinking. Marko is a bit hostile right off the bat when it comes to people he doesn’t know, eventually he cracks and will be more loyal to you then to anyone you’d ever know. He opened up to Paul, a lot sooner then he would have thought the guy was funny and sweet - lil stupid too. David had this grand idea of a little gang, naturally Marko was all for it because illegal activity is fun- it was like a game to him. A liked stealing from pockets and playing distraction for David, as time grew he began to hate how young and gentle his face appeared to be. He LOATHED absolutely appalled the pity glances he would get, the hand outs the whole “oh you poor fragile little dear 🥺” he hated being babied and still does. He hated the stares he got on the opposite direction ... at first, it was funny, it was nice to be wanted in that sense rather then some baby. However... it grew creepy, it wasn’t women or a fella his age...it was more the gaze of older men. Marko detested it so much- he KNEW he’s seen what some of the guys... even younger then him ended up doing- he could see the occasional look in david’s eye. No he would never really consider....no. Paul was more his shoulder to cry on, someone to go to , to ramble to to speak with and just be with. The two were touchy, always leaning against eachother or grabbing their arms, laughing or sleeping or- eventually it became more then casual, it was serious. The two started ‘dating’ at some point- none of them were ever serious on titles but it was good to put a word to it.

Paul campbell-

Age (as of 1906) : 18

Born: 1888

Appearance: tall and lengthy, he has a mole on his left cheek, he has stubble/shadow opposed to a beard. He’s also usually dirty, dirty blond , long hair think Buffalo bill with volume and his hairline not receding

Backstory:

Grew up in a orphanage, hundreds of kids all stuffed together into a few rooms, often sharing beds and everything else. He was never a still child, he would always figit and move and shift - whenever he’s supposed to be quite or still like lessons or Mass he just couldn’t. This - got him most of the attention from the mistresses and overseers- much more quick to slap then to explain... he was docile , quick to flinch and try and stop. Never worked well. Once you get to 7-8ish you work if not adopted by a decent age. Sweeping, factory work he tried it all. He was particularly desensitized to violence at a extremely young age while working in a textile factory- he’s seen a kids arm come clean off. Terror turns to fascination eventually. At some point he’d stopped returning at night finding David and Marko at 15, he started hanging with them- it was safer in numbers that sort of thing- Paul could read a bit , David could write a bit- the three worked it out together. always so distracted- the others learned right off the bat he wasn’t built for pick pocketing no matter how hard he begged about it. Instead he’d do real jobs- sweeping , fighting, placing crooked bets that sort of thing. He always complains. A massive softie since he was young, Paul can’t quite handle being on his own- he’s used to having at least one other person around him at all times causing him to get quite hooked onto the other boys. He hovers around the same places. He is also a fan of dancing- Paul- is music obsessed the moment he heard the first noise of any sort of music he was hooked. He is one about fun- being restrained from it for so long as a child- always to sit out and watch or to think about whatever he did.. oh. Dancing, drinking, drugs, clubs, all of it is his kind of deal- he would drag the others with him when they had a bit of extra cash to deal with. Dwayne and his brother, when they joined on he was instantly accepting, unlike Marko he didn’t have the deep seeded trust issues, he was immediately touchy and happy to share a joke or a comment no matter the glares. He is the one to get Dwayne to lighten up a little bit, to smile he loves to see that smile :). He got around to dating Marko, when they finally put a label on it he was really giddy about it, making jokes and comments- he adores the little names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘bo’ - he eventually gets around to just plain ‘sugar’ . Marko is the one who really entertains Paul’s love for dancing, the two of them trying to get the others to do something lighten up- eventually their pawing would bare fruit. Paul makes the best out of the worst situation, even if they end up sleeping on the beach more often then not- he somehow makes it seam alright. Except that one time he had gotten sand in Dwayne’s eye and all hell broke lose. He is the current youngest member of the group after Jaspers passing.

Dwayne Maher

Age (as of 1906) : 22

Born: 1884

Appearance: Tall, muscular , tanned(I will establish this now but Dwayne is Native American.) long Black hair with burnet highlights, reaches half down his back.

Backstory:

Born out more Midwest unlike the others he was not born in San Francisco, eldest son of a decent sized family of four kids. Do to conflict he and his younger brother skipped town, skipped state and fled to California.. better options you know?. He’s strong built, hard working and good with his hands though, rather playful most of the time. He looks after his younger brother closely, when there is work they work the same place, when there is not they both still do the same. Quickly took to David and the gang , having a tight knit bond with each of them. He was sort of the muscle - if there was trouble, he knew how to fight and it would likely work better then the knives the boys carried around or the gun David could barely shoot. It was Paul who got him to open up more, about himself and just to speak in general, he’s much more under his breath and jokingly commenting then he is saying something out loud- however if he dislikes something or thinks it stupid you WILL know it. Like David he carries the occasional thought of caution, however he’s not nearly as quick to worry. Maher is not his actual last name , nor does he ever mention it- he simply uses this one when it’s needed as some sort of identification or document. He’s surprisingly good at money, he ends up counting with David and is better at budgeting no matter how he may want or need something. He doesn’t speak on his past as he tries to make it seam he has little of one, he likes to make things mysterious he finds it amusing.

Jasper Maher-

Age (as of 1906) : 16

Born: 1890

Died: 1906

Appearance: shoulder length black hair, typically tied back and braided , tanned, string bean.

Backstory:

The younger brother of Dwayne who is much much more open on how he grew up, casually mentioning things he learned from his parents of his brother (he doesn’t remember his parents that much.) young hot shot sort of kid who’d much rather have action then he would some serious job, loud, energy filled and one for violence- however he’s surprisingly sweet. He often got himself and his brother into trouble. He was a quick and fast young child who grew surprisingly closest with Marko, the two having a habit for breaking every possible rule they could manage together. Their close friendship lead to Marko naming one of his birds after Jasper long after his passing.

Max-

Unknown age but he is seen as extremely old and powerful

Relationship with the boys:

After finding them he has decided to take them under his metaphorical and physical wing, acting as a sort of guardian. Food, clothing, shelter, he was everything the boys didn’t have and was surprisingly inviting in the beginning. ‘I do this for you, you on occasion do this for me’ sort of deal. He wasn’t a leader so much as he was a usual figure, the boys knew and understood him to be above them... so they followed you know? The whole new vampirism thing and the clueless kids- he had to explain and show nearly everything... especially to David, he wasn’t so much harsh to him as he was strict- more of a lead by example sort. Honestly he was father like in a strange sense- that someone is almost like a parent but very much your boss. See... with Max’s strength, there’s this almost automatic level of control- you can’t say no to him. You literally can’t not do what he asks (some supernatural level messing-). There’s something dark about him, in him that the boys still don’t understand in the 80s- but it scares them. It’s strange, it feels unlike him... he seams just like a Dorky , sweet man until...

Some random thoughts that don’t really fit anything

The boys are explicitly religious, past what you’d hear in passing or remember from growing up. Saying “oh god” and respecting religious officials are about what you’ll get

Whoopsies! This was a extremely long post lmao. Sorry for the long read but I could go on and on about them this was just a small blurb to all of it. If you ever wanna hear more do tell me. Also tell me if I should add tw for anything as I know I got a little dark at some points.

#the lost boys #lost boys 1987 #lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys prequel #lost boys prequel #the lost boys the beginning #lost boys the beginning #1906 boys #1906 david #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #jasper the lost boys #max the lost boys #backstory Headcannons #whoops #parko #marko/paul

[writingsbymarie]

Drive - Rafe Cameron x reader

Word count: 2,890

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug use, angst, and a steamy make out

A/n: yes I know Rafe is not a good person, but he is intriguing and I love Drew so I just had to write for him, and in this, I wrote him much sweeter like they should have written him, and in this, he doesn't kill the sheriff. I also wrote this while listened to Drive by Halsey you want to listen while reading :). Also, send in requests for JJ and Rafe, and I’d also be willing to write for John B. and Pope. This probably one of my favorite things I have written so I hope you guys like it :)

He was a dick. God, you hated him, but for some reason, you were drawn to him. After your dad went missing you had to take care of your brother, yeah we were 18, but you couldn’t be John B.s legal guardian, so you kept your uncle a secret and found yourself a job at the country club for the summer, and that's where it all started. That's when you found yourself falling for the self-centered, arrogant Rafe Cameron. 

He was a year older than you, and before the summer you had seen him at parties and heard stories about the crazy things he did. Drugs were the big ones. Not only was he doing cocaine, but he was also selling it too. You didn’t quite understand why he would sell them since he was rich, but the boy who had so much potential and privilege was running his life into the ground. 

Your first encounter with the honey-haired boy happened at the food area of the club. You were a hostess, and he came to order a smoothie. You walked over to greet them but before you could say anything Rafe spoke up. 

“Hey pogue, bring me a strawberry banana smoothie” he demanded. You wanted to give him a piece of your mind because he didn’t even say please, but the last thing you needed was a complaint from Ward Cameron's son. So you forced a smile and choked out the niced ‘that will be right up sir’ and turned on your heel rolling your eyes the second you were not facing him anymore. You brought the order to the girl who was making the smoothies and she started the order. You looked over at a Rafe who was waiting by the golf cart with his friend Topper and Kelce. You couldn’t deny one thing. Rafe was an attractive young man. You hated that you thought that, but he was your type. A tall blonde with a toned body. The girl who made the smoothie tapped you on the shoulder and handed you the smoothie taking you out of your thoughts. You walked towards the boys who were laughing about who knows what and handed the smoothie to Rafe with a smile. 

“Have nice day boys” You said with a forced smile. “And by the way, my name isn’t ‘pogue’ my name is Y/N” and with that, you turned around leaving Rafe wondering. Rafe would never admit it, but he found you hot. He was intrigued by you and that is precisely why he came to see you multiple times a week without his friends. He would make excuses of why he was there, but eventually, it became a pattern that you caught onto. Your conversations got longer, and you began to see a soft side of a boy you thought was a narcissistic unpredictable asshole. 

The first time you started to catch feelings was at the end of one of your shifts on a Friday night. The sun was setting and you grabbed your phone to call John B to pick you up. At this point in the summer, you and Rafe had a platonic friendship. He had even given you the nickname pogue princess which you hated to admit made you blush every time.

“There's my pogue princess” you heard from behind you immediately knowing who it was. Your heart skipped a beat and you turned around to be faced with the rich blonde boy you now would call your ‘friend’. 

“Damn you couldn’t go a whole day without seeing me, if I didn’t know any better i’d say you like me kook, and that's not allowed” you smirked, giving a light hit on the shoulder.

“In your dreams princess” he winked and you rolled your eyes walking past him. 

“My shift is over Rafe so I’m not bringing you a smoothie” 

“I didn’t come for a smoothie I came to see you” he mumbled like he was scared to admit. The truth was he hated how he felt about you. He hated how his heart skipped a beat every time your eyes met his. He hated that he found himself drawn to the country club just to come to see you, and he hated that he craved your attention. You, on the other hand, were feeling the same way. You hated that every day you worked you waited for him to show up. You hate that the second he walked in you felt warm and happy, and you hated that you were falling for a kook and that the kook you were falling for was Rafe Cameron. 

“And why are you here to see me, you could be out with your friends right now doing whatever kooks do in their free time,” you asked as you turned around to face him. His demeanor was soft and it made your heart melt. It was the way his eyes on you and then and there you felt a feeling you had never felt before. Love. 

“As much as I hate to admit it. I like talking to you. It's refreshing” You wanted to respond with something witty, but you were almost speechless. His face began to heat up when you didn't respond right away. You could see the small panic in his eyes. “Sorry, that was weird I-”

“No, no, it's not weird I like talking to you too” you smiled. You walked out of the country club side by side with Rafe. 

“So how was your day?” he asked sweetly.

“Pretty good, just hate when the creepy old rich men hit on me, but they tip well so I can’t complain too much, how was yours”? You smiled.

“Pretty boring just the usual”

“What's the usual for a kook thought? Is it sitting by the pool, going for a boat ride in your yacht, and drinking in your mansion” you joked.

“I mean some days are like that” he smirked, bumping his elbow into yours.  

“Not surprised” you giggled.

“Wait how are you getting home” 

“I have to call my brother to come-”

“I can drive you,” he interrupted. It was almost desperate. The truth was he had gotten in a fight with his father and for some reason the only person he wanted to be with was you and that scared the living hell out of him.

“Are you sure, driving through my side of town for a kook is asking a lot”

“You're not asking, I'm offering” he was being sweet, and it was a weird thing to see. You didn’t understand how the boy who constantly bullied and beat up your brother and his friends could be kind. You felt guilt and love. Rafe was horrible to people you cared about, but you just couldn’t shake him. 

“Fine, but only this once, and my brother can not find out” 

“My mouth is shut”

You both walked to his car and he opened the door for you. You took a seat and fastened your seatbelt. The sun was almost set and you could see the stars starting to fill up the sky. Rafe started the car and backed out of the parking lot. You knew there was something different about him today. You just knew something was wrong or something had happened. 

“Hey Rafe”

“Yeah”

“Are you okay?” you asked your voice soft so you didn’t scare him off.

“Um, yeah why” he stuttered and it was an obvious lie. 

“You just are acting different today, you know you can talk to me it's not like I have anyone to tell”

“I don’t want to burden you with my problems”

“It wouldn’t be a burden Rafe, and maybe I can burden you with some of mine”

“If I share mine you owe me some of yours I want to know you”. He wanted to know you. You felt your heart race, and your whole body heated up. 

“Deal” 

“It’s just my dad, he doesn’t think I can take over the family business. He never believes in me. It's always Sarah. She's always been his favorite no matter how much I try to prove myself to him all he sees me as is a disappointment” he ranted, and you felt your heart drop. You knew Ward was a cruel man, but showing obvious favoritism towards a child is sad. You felt bad for Rafe Cameron, something you never thought you would think. 

“Rafe you’re not a disappointment, look parents suck, not all of them, but a lot of them. Parents should never put their child down like that I’m sorry that he's doing that to you” you assured him, and you grabbed his hand that was on his thigh and gave it a small squeeze. Rafe's heart was beating out of his chest. His hands were clammy, and he almost felt dizzy. He had never felt this way about a girl, and it terrified him. 

“Thanks” he whispered.

“Anytime” you both sat in silence the only noise coming from the soft radio.

“So what about you”

“Well my dad is probably dead, and my mom left us when I was 5, and I’m trying not to lose my brother to DCF so there's that” he didn’t say anything at first, but his heart broke for you. You had so much pressure on you, and you were only 18, and you didn’t have a parent to call you a disappointment. “Sorry that was a lot,” you said embarrassed putting your face into your hands.

“Hey look that's was a lot, and I know that there isn’t anything I can say or do to make those things better, but you can always talk to me Y/N just know that” he soothed glancing over at you for a second and putting his eyes back on the road. Your heart was swelling, and you were happy. You were so happy for the first time in months. 

“Thanks, Rafe that means a lot” and he looked at you and smiled, and with that he was near your house, and you directed him to your house.

“Thanks, Rafe for everything”

“Of course, and I hope to see you soon pogue princess”. You let out a small laugh and exited the car feeling a mix of guilt and pure happiness. Rafe found himself watching you as you walked away, and the second you walked inside he missed you, and you missed him too.

As summer went on things began to get chaotic. You were going on a crazy adventure to find 400 million in gold, but you were still working, and seeing Rafe at the country club, and Rafe had hired you to work midsummers. He even bought you a dress to wear, and this was the day things between you and Rafe turned from friends to more than friends. You were handing out drinks and Rafe had taken the last one. He had you put the tray down and invited you to see his room. You walked with him admiring the beautiful mansion. When you reached his room it was clean and huge. 

“I’m pretty sure your room is bigger than my whole house” you laughed. He walked to sit on his bed and you followed, taking a seat next to him. You were so close to him your legs were touching, and you could feel your body heating up. 

“You know I get paid to serve people here Rafe” you laughed.

“I know if you just take a break there's nothing wrong with taking a break you gotta ease up Y/n” he joked and you laughed. It was quiet for a minute until Rafe spoke up again. “You know you look absolutely beautiful tonight” at this point your heart was beating out of your chest, but you weren’t exactly sure what to say so you made a joke to cover up the blush arising on your face.

“I don’t look beautiful all the time” you questioned sarcastically.

“You look beautiful every day” he said in all seriousness, and you turned your head to see his blue orbs. You felt yourself leaning in and you saw his eyes flash from your eyes to your lips. You wanted him to kiss you, and god he has been wanting to kiss you since the first time he saw you at the country club, but he was terrified of rejection. His hands were sweaty and his heart was beating out of his chest. Your lips were inches apart, and Rafe's eyes fluttered shut and his lips met yours. You immediately leaned into the kiss butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You turned your body to get closer to him. His hands found your hips and your hands were on his cheeks. Your lips moved against each other slowly at first but both of you were desperate for each other's touch. You lifted your hips and you landed on his lap and wrapped his arms around your back pulling you as close to him as possible. The kiss became much more urgent and you pulled apart and you got on the bed and moved to get fully onto it. Your eyes reeled him in to follow you and he positioned himself on top of you and put his lips back on yours. Your hands wrapped around his neck playing with his hair pulling it a bit making him moan. His hands were feeling up and down your body and you felt euphoric. His lips left yours and went to your neck finding your sweet spot and you gasped. You pulled him from your neck and flipped him over so that you were on top and dived back down to kiss him again and his hands found your ass and you moaned into the kiss. One of his hands left your ass and he began to pull down the strap of your dress. Just as you started to unbutton his shirt you heard a voice from the hallway. It was Rafe's father calling him to come back to the party. Your face was bright red and you practically jumped off of Rafe, and Rafe told you to hide in the closet as he picked up his clothes. You felt amazing, and you thought this was the start of something beautiful, but you were so wrong. 

After your brother was pushed from the tower Ward became John B's legal guardian, so DCF wouldn’t take him away, but that wasn’t the worst of it. You had found the gold, but now you found out that Ward not only tried to kill your brother. He had killed your father. The father of the boy you loved had killed your father and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. He came to visit you at your house and you had to be the one to tell him what his father had done. You were crying when you heard a knock on the door to see Rafe.

“Rafe I can’t do this right now” you sobbed refusing to open the door. 

“Y/n what's going on your brother tried to kill my dad for no reason” and your heart sunk. He didn’t even know the truth. You opened the door, and his eyes softened. Your eyes were puffy, and tears were streaming down your face. He didn’t say anything. All he did was pull you into his embrace, and you cried into his chest. You wanted to push him away. After what his father did you wanted nothing to do with his family, but you couldn’t push Rafe away. Rafe held you in his arms rubbing your back while whispering that everything was going to be okay, but it wasn’t going to be okay. His dad murdered your dad for the gold, and you were so angry and you pushed him away and you could see the confusion in his face.

“No it’s not going to be okay” you wept.

“Y/n” he said as he tried to step closer, but you stepped back.

“Your father murdered my dad” you yelled, and Rafe's face changed to confusion and then anger.

“That's a lie,” he whispered.

“Its, not a lie Rafe, he murdered my father and he tried to murder my brother” you cried. 

“He wouldn’t do that Y/n”

“He did Rafe” you wept. 

“No, no your wrong, you’re lying this is all your brother”

“Rafe I need you to go” 

“No, not until you tell me why you would say that about my dad” snapped, making you flinch. You had never seen him this angry, and you finally realized why people were scared of him and you felt your heart begin to shatter. 

“Rafe get out” you sobbed and you pushed him out the door closing and locking it. You slid down the door, your chest heaving. Rafe stood outside the door trying to comprehend what had just happened. He refused to believe that his father would murder someone, but the sound of the girl he loved sobbing on the other side of the door broke his heart. As much as he loved her he thought he needed to be on his father's side, and with that, he left her all alone leaving both their hearts shattered in pieces.  

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe imagine

[uomo-accattivante]

Great comprehensive interview with Elvira on the making of The Letter Room and filmmaking, in general. One interesting tidbit mentioned: she is currently developing a podcast about sex. 👀🤔

For most of her creative life, Elvira Lind has been behind the the lens compassionately capturing true stories as a documentary filmmaker. Her debut feature, Songs for Alexis, observes two young lovebirds navigating a long distance relationship and challenging views on gender identity in the modern age. While her sophomore feature, Bobbi Jenne, explores the life of a famous dancer fighting for her own creative and personal independence.

Despite her prolific doc work, a story that couldn't simply be told in its raw form kept circulating in her head: a dark prison comedy about the secret life of a correctional officer trying to bring humanity to the prison system. When he gets transferred to a job in the letter room, he finds himself a little too involved in the private lives of the inmates.

Far along in her second pregnancy, and with the support of an incredible team of collaborators, Elvira took on the challenge of writing and directing her first narrative short, "The Letter Room." The film stars Oscar Isaac and Alia Shawkat, and has had an all-star festival run, screening at Telluride, Tribeca, and the Palm Springs International Film Festival. Here, Elvira reflects on the joys and challenges of creating your first short film—putting empathy first, reshaping the tropes around pregnancy, and screening in the COVID era.

FTW: How did you become a filmmaker?

Elvira Lind: I’ve always loved film. I was very drawn to documentaries because it felt like you were entering something that was really happening. You opened a door and were already inside the film. You’re just trying to keep up with what’s being thrown at you. As opposed to fiction where you have to conjure it up from nowhere. I loved imagining and writing stories when I was little, but I didn’t have the confidence to pursue it.

I didn’t come from a family of filmmakers. And I came from a time when people had a little shitty camcorder that you borrowed from someone’s uncle, and buying film was expensive. Things opened up and changed a lot when cameras became more accessible.

I could only afford one year of film school in Cape Town, where I met some amazing people and learned about so many different ways of storytelling. I came back to Denmark and found myself working for free a lot for other filmmakers while doing a side job. The paid work was very hard to get, but I’d rather work for free with filmmakers that I loved and have more responsibilities than have access to nothing. It wasn’t easy to find my way in, but it’s so worth it. 

And now you live in New York. How does this global background affect your general filmmaking style and approach?

I definitely bring a lot of Danish documentary traditions with me and hold it very dear. There are a lot of kick ass female documentary filmmakers in Denmark that have taught me a lot. There’s a good support system for women there. It’s an incredibly privileged place in that there’s funding from the government to make films. You can make things that, in my opinion, are often far more interesting because it’s not reliant on how it’s going to make money in the box office.

You’ve shot many of your documentaries in the past. So what was it like this time to be working with a cinematographer?

I always wanted to work with a cinematographer on my documentaries; we just couldn’t afford it. Now for “The Letter Room”, I worked with Sam Chase, who has got such a brilliant eye and it was wonderful to have someone to work with on composing the look of the film because I’m usually doing it by myself. It is kind of like a marriage. I work with the same editor on all my projects as well. You enter this symbiotic sort of dance together. For me, it also means you have to fight about things and disagree and then make up and hear each other out. My editor, Adam Nielsen, is the kind of guy who just comes up with genius ideas while in the shower or on the way home from work on his bicycle. You have to find these key people in your life where you can bounce ideas back and forth with.

Where did the idea for “The Letter Room” come from?

It was a story that was brewing in my head for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to put a narrative film together. I just started to write it down and then it kept developing.

There was a podcast that I listened to that really inspired me. It told the story of different men who were all unknowingly writing love letters to the same woman. She started to ask for money and help with rent, but the letters she wrote were so wonderful and all these men were very in love with her. These very lonely men felt like magic had entered their lives. They all eventually found out that the woman was actually a man writing to different people trying to get their money. They were all heartbroken, but one of the men said that the worst part was losing these letters and that the fantasy was gone. He wished they could just keep writing to each other. So much of life is fantasy and trying to live through other people’s lives. I’m very drawn to stories of loneliness and bottled up feelings.

And then I am firmly against the American prison system. It’s heartbreaking, frustrating, and I can’t make sense of it. How do you even begin to explain this system to a child?

It’s a society that doesn’t care about humanity. I wanted to show the monotony, the repetition, the sadness. I don’t see the bigger goal or purpose of locking people away for countless years  and taking away all the things that makes you feel human, that makes life joyous. I really believe that we can all change and this system teaches people nothing. “The Letter Room'' is the combination of these two concepts that I’m very passionate about.

And then I got pregnant for the second time and I hadn’t made a film between the two. It was a crazy feeling to be taken over again by pregnancy. A wonderful friend of mine, Sofia Sondervan-Bild, came to me and said, “I think you should make this film and I’ll make it with you.” Initially, I freaked out and thought I didn’t know how to do fiction and doubted how I could make a film in a prison, but she inspired me and told me to do it. She’s just one of these incredibly powerful people that you want to go on an adventure with. She made me feel like my pregnancy wasn’t going to stand in the way of me making this film. We ended up shooting while I was far along in my pregnancy in a prison in the middle of a summer heat wave. It was crazy, but it was the best thing that I could’ve done at the time.

When you were directing on set at that stage of pregnancy, did you feel like you were reshaping tropes of what women are capable of? 

It was insane. The funny thing was that the crew was like, “we can’t complain that we are tired because she is extremely pregnant and still running around.” I was so high off of that experience. When we finished, I collapsed. I fell straight onto the couch and then I have a two and a half year old screaming my name. That was more work for me than directing the short. I edited the film right before I gave birth actually, and then I gave birth and did sound right after. I was pumping breast milk in the corner in the darkness during the sound edit.

I’ve learned a lot from surpassing whatever I thought was physically possible with being pregnant. I learned that being in a creative process gives you so much energy that it allows you to be in whatever shape, size, form, mental space you can. People are ready to give you their support, if you choose the right people. I’m really grateful that I chose such wonderful collaborators who supported me through it all. Even when people were questioning my choice to direct a film while being pregnant in a prison. Why not? Women get pregnant and then we still need to be supported so that we can continue to make the things we want to do.

What was your experience with getting “The Letter Room” funded?

It’s really hard, let’s be honest. There aren’t a lot of people sitting around waiting to fund a short film. We ended up working with Topic, which is a part of First Look Media. They are just incredible and really support filmmakers with whatever their vision is. I’ve had great experiences and some really bad experiences with funding, so I know this was an ideal scenario.

Having a short that is over 30 minutes long seems like a feat. At what stage in the process did you know this was going to be a longer piece? And how did that decision affect the shoot in both positive and difficult ways?

It was way too long at first, and when I shortened it, it was still 32 minutes. We could only afford five days of shooting, and a lot of it is shot on active prison grounds, which have an insane amount of protocol. We almost used everything we shot.

I’m not used to being able to have different angles to choose from in my doc work, so I think I just knew exactly what I wanted. I know that my producers were worried that I wasn’t getting enough, but to me, I was like, I’m getting double of what I usually get on a documentary! Everyone was quietly concerned, but everything worked out when we got to the edit.

The short’s length hasn’t done any favors for me so far, but you need to breathe as an audience, you need to pace it out. If I cut out certain minutes, it would’ve felt rushed and you wouldn’t have believed the arcs that the characters had.

I loved the concept of placing a very empathetic character in a setting that is contrary to that personality type. You included so many details that made the world feel so three dimensional and cared for. Can you talk about those decisions to create that feeling?

It means so much to me that it made you feel that way. What frustrates me about the prison system is that it lacks any empathy or understanding of human nature and nurture and who we are. What we need to become better people. It takes all of that away.

I spoke to people who have spent a lot of time in prison and they told me that you have to hide your feelings and that showing any signs of weakness will be a disaster. It’s the worst possible scenario you can imagine yourself in. Being robbed of every privacy, anything that makes you happy, anything that makes you feel like yourself. I imagined the character of a caregiver in this setting who wants to help and finds a silly way to do so. I was very inspired by that story of the love letters that I talked about earlier. What does it mean to lie if you’re making someone else happy?

It’s the morning of your first day of the shoot — how do you feel?

I was very nervous. I had never said ‘action’ before. I’ve been on a lot of sets, but I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t know what I was doing, but it’s also okay not to know. Mistakes are going to happen, and sometimes they become gifts. At the same time, I was very excited. You come in and there are all these people there with you who are there to make this thing you’ve written come to life.

What are some things you would do on set to create a safe space and vulnerable environment?

We did everything we could to make the set a safe space. It was very difficult and stressful to shoot in an active prison, but we made sure to actively ask our crew if everyone’s feeling okay and if we can do anything to make the situation better. I’m very vulnerable and encourage all of my crew to be vulnerable with me. Mistakes are welcome.

It's a short film, people come and work on this not because they’re making a million dollars, but because they want to be there and are being incredibly generous with their time and energy. It was such a good environment that even when challenging things came up, it was still a lot of fun.

What was it like working with actors for the first time?

That was one of the biggest challenges for me. I’ve heard so many different stories in passing of the least helpful note or worst thing to say to an actor. You want to be respectful and actors have their way of working. Ultimately, they are all really talented actors and all of them came with so much energy and a lot of ideas.

I spent time with each of them talking about their character. Those 1 on 1 conversations helped me a lot in the writing process as well because you’re bouncing ideas off of each other and they’re asking you questions about how they would respond to a certain situation.

I had always imagined Alia Shawkat as Rosita and she ended up wanting to do it and came from LA to film it. I had tears in my eyes when we were filming the scene of her and Oscar. They were excited to do the scene together. It was all a dream.

What was the experience of working creatively alongside your partner like?

We were joking a lot about it before because there was already the stress of being so pregnant and we have a 2 year old at home, and now I was putting us in another highly intense and demanding situation. Either it was going to be great OR we would drive each other nuts. But we had so much fun. It was wonderful to work together. I was so happy to be on set and make my film and he’s just so talented and fun to be around. Those little moments where you know each other so well—I’d give him notes and he just kept surprising me and was so respectful of my directions.

He found this photo for him to connect to the character and it became very fundamental to me. It was this incredible black and white photo from the 70s of a prison guard. I had always imagined that he would have this inner salsa soundtrack playing in his soul and we would play Rubén Blades and 70s salsa music and Oscar just morphed that into music into everything and created this unique character. 

And he was wearing a fat suit the entire shoot and I was pregnant and Alia Shawkat had her pregnant belly on. The three of us—it was so funny.

It seems like the perfect first experience of going into narrative with people that you really trust and support you.

Definitely! Find the people that you can team up with that really believe in your vision and who will push you to do exactly what you had in mind. People who never try to push you into these conventional routes. Our creative voices are so fragile. You want to be on the same page so that they see what you’re trying to do and want to bring that out of you. Where they’re treating your film as a sacred thing that you’re creating together.

How do you know when a film is done?

Fiction is very different from documentaries. With documentaries, it never feels like it’s done because there are so many options. That’s also why I love fiction so much; It’s so much faster. It’s a whole different beast to tame a documentary with hundreds of hours of footage where you’re reinventing the wheel every day.

How have you built up your own confidence as a director and your unique voice?

Stubbornness. I’ve had many experiences working with people who didn’t believe in my project. You have to stick to your guns and trust your instincts. Once you find your voice, you find people that want to go on that ride with you and find your vision interesting. It’s a miracle when any of us gets a project made, so your confidence can’t come from how much money your movie made. It has to come from somewhere else. Did you do justice to the people you portrayed in your story? Did anyone walk away feeling like something had changed within them?

What is a good director to you?

Someone who is driven with passion without letting that passion take over and become any source of frustration that’s taken out on other people. It should feel like a collaborative effort. And having gratitude every day that you’re making something with other people who are donating their time. You’d be nowhere without them. One of the most important things is making sure that your crew is treating everyone equally. It depends on the size of the production, but having someone who can sense what’s happening in all different departments and having department heads that are there to protect everyone. Listen to each other, and make sure everyone feels safe and is in the best place to be creative.

With COVID, what has the adjustment been like to being in an online space for this festival run? 

I’m really deeply saddened by not having the human interaction aspect of it. It feels so crucial to be in the room together, to meet and see each other's projects and share the experience, to cry and laugh next to people you don’t know. I’m grieving to be honest. We just gotta get through this time. It reminds us of how sacred it is for us to gather and how that feels, and I hope that all of that will come back after this and that cinemas will survive. We really need them.

What’s next for you?

Right now I’m writing more fiction and working on a new documentary feature that I am kind of researching and shooting at the same time. I am also creating a podcast about sex, called “The List” with my friend, writer and photographer Kirra Cheers, based on a book and play she wrote. My husband and I just started a production company together, Mad Gene Media, in order to develop and produce our own material. So. lots of exciting things to continue with in the new year.

Born in 1981 in Copenhagen, Elvira Lind graduated from School of Media and Creative Arts in Cape Town in 2006 majoring in documentary film where she received two awards for her final year achievements. She has worked within that field since directing and shooting documentaries of various lengths for TV, cinema and web on 4 different continents.​In 2020 she premiered her first fiction project, a 32 min short film she wrote and directed. The film was sold to Topic and was invited to various festivals including Telluride and Tribeca FF. Elvira's feature doc BOBBI JENE premiered at Tribeca Film Festival in 2017 where it won all awards in its category including Best Feature documentary, best editing and best Cinematography. The film had theatrical release in US, Spain and Scandinavia.​Elvira's first documentary feature Songs for Alexis premiered at Toronto HOT DOCS in 2014 and screened and competed at a long list of international festivals. Her 8 part documentary TV series "Twiz and Tuck" was bought by VICELAND and launched in 2017. Elvira now lives and works out of New York.

###

#oscar isaac #elvira lind #the letter room #mad gene media #interview

[labyrinth-runner]

“Are you scared? Don’t be. ‘ll protect you from today onwards.” For Obi x Reader please?

Title: King of Hearts

Summary: When you’re sent to a neighboring kingdom to marry the king, things do not go as planned. Warnings: None. Word Count: 5400

Tag List: @blackirisposts, @star-whores-a-new-hoe, @nerd-without-a-cause, @all-hallows-evie, @darthserling

As always, thanks to @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for being a low-key Beta.

You could hear the sound of the wheels running over the forest floor. It had been hours since your carriage had set off on its journey towards the kingdom that was to be your new home. Your legs ached from being in the same position for so long, but there was nothing you could do. Stopping now was out of the question, as you had driven into enemy territory an hour ago. Your guards had even advised against looking out the window. After all, the Princess of the neighboring kingdom would be a prime target for the warlord ravaging your kingdom. That was why it was imperative that you got to your new kingdom in one piece. Your marriage to the King would unite your two kingdoms and act as an alliance that would hopefully end the war. 

Resting your head against the wall, you absentmindedly played with your pendant as you tried to picture the man you were to marry. You’d met him once, a long time ago. The two of you had both been young when his father, Qui-Gon, had come to your kingdom for a summit. You couldn’t have been more than ten at the time. You remembered meeting an awkward teenager who would talk you out of all the mischief you had planned. He was so serious, with those crystalline blue eyes that looked like they were wise beyond their years. Most of all, you remember he was kind, having an affinity for animals that led him to spend most of his visit in the menagerie.

Now, you wondered what he was like, having been King for a few years since the death of his father at the hands of a warlord. Would he still be kind? Or would years of a harsh life have turned his heart cold? A sigh breezed through your lips as you tried to stretch in the small space. 

Thwip.

Thud.

Screaming.

You froze, hearing the unmistakable sound of an arrow being loosed into the air, and the carnage that it no doubt had caused. The horses were startled and strayed from the path, causing the carriage to run over a boulder. It started to list to the side until it was tumbling. You braced for impact as the carriage landed on its side. Peeking out of the window, you noticed you were at the bottom of a ravine. 

“I’m a sitting duck,” you realized in horror as you struggled to get the door open, let alone crawl out of the carriage. Part of you wanted to stay put, to play dead, but you knew better than to trust your attackers with your body. If they were thorough, they would finish the job. With that knowledge to steel your nerves, you used all the strength in your arms to pull yourself up through the doorway.

Once on the other side, you closed the door so that it would take them a while to notice anything was amiss. Swiftly, you moved across the clearing towards the tree line. You could hear running water nearby. If you passed through it, then they would loose your trail. Your feet propelled you further and further, vowing to yourself with each step that you would not die here, that the hope of your people’s salvation would not die here, alone, in the forest. 

The water was cold on your calves as you plunged into a running river. It was deeper than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Wading through the waist-deep water, you trudged to the opposite bank and pulled yourself up.

The foliage on that side of the river was dense enough to conceal you from your attackers. Your heart thudded in your chest as you listened to the sounds of footfalls. Through a gap in the trees, you watched as men in dark cloaks came into view, searching for you. When they passed by without incident, you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

On the horizon, the sun was starting to set. You knew you couldn’t stay in the woods forever, but you couldn’t travel as you were either. Your clothes were much too rich for the area. No, you’d have to go back to the carriage and hope to salvage some of the clothes that your maid had packed.

Mary, you thought sadly. She had been riding on the front of the carriage when you were attacked. There was no way she would have survived. A pang of guilt washed over you, but you had to shove it aside. Your feelings, as valid as they were, would not enable you to survive if you dwelled in sadness. 

Somehow, the water seemed colder the second time around. It felt like tiny knives stabbing into your skin as you made your way back, retracing your steps as best you could in the falling darkness. 

Eventually, the carriage came into view, it’s dark form rising out of the shadows. Your luggage was strewn across the ground, with some crates leaking fabrics. Surprisingly, your treasure was untouched. 

“So it was never about the money,” you sighed, “It was always about me.”

With a shake of your head, you started to root around for a plain outfit that would be warm enough in the cool night air. You found a blue servants gown and a brown wool cloak that would suit you nicely. Quickly, you changed into it.

Laying on the ground a few feet away was a crumpled body of one of your soldiers. With some care, you removed his dagger and attached it to your own body. You hoped you would never have to use it, but you would rather have and not need, than need and not have.

Lastly, you took your pendant in your hand, a wedding gift from your fiancé. On it was his crest along with your family’s motto on the back. Ad astra per aspera. You tucked it under the neckline of your dress before looking up at the stars. Giving the guiding lights a resolute nod, you started to walk.

You walked for what felt like miles with no end in sight until dawn started to break over the horizon. Streaks of light cut through the canopy overhead washing everything in a warm amber glow. The trees started to thin out and a small town could be seen past the fields and farms on the outskirts near the forest. To your dismay, you could see that the town was crawling with enemy troops. You pulled your cloak further down your forehead to hopefully obscure your face. As much as you just wanted to walk past the town, your stomach was growling and would not be ignored. 

Trudging into the tavern, you slipped into a seat in the corner hoping to avoid detection.

The gods were not smiling upon you.

As soon as you sat, a group of soldiers sauntered over towards you.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you a new face?” one of them purred as the barkeep placed a bowl of soup in front of you.

You pointedly ignored them, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Instead, another soldier sat across from you. “Are you traveling alone? You know that’s dangerous with a war on. Wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you to get caught in the cross fires.”

“You know, when a lass ignores you, that’s usually a sign that you should stop talking,” a man said from behind them.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” The soldier taunted back.

“This,” the man simply stated before punching him in the face.

A brawl soon broke out in front of you. With a sigh of annoyance, you picked up your bowl of soup and side-stepped the kerfuffle to finish eating your soup at the bar. 

The men continued to brawl until the owner kicked them out. Then, the owner turned towards you, “And you, too.”

“But I-” you started to protest.

“Out! You’re bad for business,” he said sternly.

You sighed. At least you’d finished eating. It was time to move on from here, anyway. Pulling your hood back over your head, you made your way out of the tavern and into the street, seeing the man and a younger boy nursing their wounds as the soldiers stalked off down the road.

“Are you alright, lass?” the man called out. He looked like a farmer, based off his clothing. The boy with him must be his farmhand, you surmised.

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do that. I was capable of handling it myself.”

“Were you just going to sit in silence and suffer their presence?” he asked, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He had a scruffy beard, but the most amazing eyes. 

Your face felt hot as you looked away, “I suppose I should thank you, then. For saving me the trouble of their company.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a kind smile. “Where are you headed, lass?”

“Stewjon,” you said before pausing. Thinking on your feet, you came up with a reasonable lie. After all, you weren’t sure how they would treat the princess of a neighboring kingdom, even if they had just defended your right to eat in silence. “I’m an ambassador from a neighboring kingdom looking to bend the king’s ear.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. You technically were a representative of your kingdom, and you were hoping the King would listen and help his new wife’s homeland. You absentmindedly played with your necklace while you waited to see if he’d accept your lie.

The farmer nodded, “We’ll take you there.” He cast a suspicious look at the pendant in your hand, squinting at it slightly. 

Quickly, you tucked it back into your neckline.

They started to walk and you followed them in silence, sizing them up. The two men seemed to have an unspoken language between them, knowing how the other would tackle the stumbling blocks in the road or which path to take to get to the right place. Their’s was an easy companionship from what you could see. Every once in a while they’d crack jokes when they tripped or slipped.

“No wonder you aren’t a knight, if a tree limb can trip you up,” the farmer teased.

“Better me than you,” the younger man quipped. “I don’t know if your old bones could handle a tumble.”

The man thwacked him up the side of his head.

“Ow!” the boy complained.

“Respect your elders,” the man simply stated, sending you a wink.

A chuckle breezed through your lips at their banter.

“See? Even the lady thinks you’re a fool,” the farmer smirked.

“Or maybe she just happens to find my antics amusing,” the boy straightened. “After all, she does have Anakin Skywalker at her service.” He affected a low bow, waggling his eyebrows at you as he looked up.

You giggled, “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Skywalker. And you, Sir?” you turned towards the farmer. “I should like to know the name of my savior.”

“Oh, should you now?” he asked, his smile slipping slightly. “It’s Ben.”

You nodded, “Ben and Ani.”

Ben looked up at the sky and cursed, “We’ll have to make camp.”

“But it’s midday,” you replied.

He pointed towards the horizon, “Those clouds spell a storm. We’ll want to find a nice, dry cave to stop in until it passes.”

“There’s a mountain ridge up ahead,” Anakin added. “There should be a cave there.”

“The river’s a bit to the south. If the lass wouldn’t mind getting some water?” Ben asked, handing you a canteen.

You nodded, taking it from him going off towards the direction he indicated. You could hear Ben ordering Anakin about as you left.

The stream wasn’t too hard to find, and it was significantly less cold than the one you had found yourself in the day before. As you dipped the canteen in the river to gather water,  you caught sight of your reflection. There were trees in your once-neat hair, dirt was caked on your limbs, and bits of blood were dried here and there from where you had been nicked by brambles and branches.

Casting a look from side to side, you realized you were alone. You may not get another moment like this, and you certainly did not want to show up to the palace in such a state. In moments, you had undressed and waded into the running water. Taking a handkerchief from your clothes, you used it to scrub yourself clean, marveling in the fresh feeling of once again being spotless. You leaned back, floating for a moment as you let yourself relax.

“Lass, we found a cave,” Ben called out as he came trudging through the bushes. Then, he caught sight of the clothes on the riverbank and his eyes briefly flicked to your floating body before he averted his gaze.

You straightened immediately. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Please, don’t apologize. I should have been more discreet. I averted my gaze as quickly as I could,” he replied, keeping his back towards you as you got out of the river and dressed.

“How far is the cave?”

“Not very far,” he replied.

Gently, you took his hand to hide the look of embarrassment. His hand was warm around yours, comforting. “Lead the way.”

Soon you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave. Inside, Anakin had started a small fire and spread out their cloaks to cover the ground to make it softer.

The three of you sat as the start of the storm could be heard outside.

“I guess you were right,” you murmured.

“He’s always right,” Anakin said pointedly.

Ben rolled his eyes, “I just had to learn this from my father at a young age.”

“Because of working in the fields?” you asked.

He blinked, “Y-yes.”

You stared out the mouth of the cave at the steadily growing storm. “Can you tell me a bit about the king?”

“Haven’t you met him before?” Ben asked.

“A long time ago,” you said wistfully. “It’s been a while. People can change. Life changes them.”

“He’s a hard ass,” Anakin smirked. That earned him another thwack from Ben. “Alright, I lied. He’s kind. He’s a real people’s man.” The younger man laid down on his cloak and turned away from you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.”

That just left you and Ben.

At first, the silence was deafening, but then the ice broke and conversation became easy.

The two of you talked for hours about anything and everything under the sun, from childhood experiences to the things you did for fun. There was so much that you two had in common, and talking to him was so easy. You’d never felt more at ease. As you talked, you noticed little things about him. The crinkle near the corner of his eyes from smiling was your first observation. Then, it was how beautiful the color of his eyes were. In the back of your mind, you wondered how soft his beard was. Still, all the while you kept swapping stories and learning more and more about this handsome man who had rescued you. When you woke up on his shoulder later on, you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured. 

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean smell hanging in the air. Anakin was snoring softly across the cave. The fire casted Ben in a warm amber glow that you found entrancing. Gently, you reached up to smooth a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes softened as he looked down at you. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing as his cheek pressed into your palm. Your thumb caressed the edge of his beard as you found your eyes settling on his lips. In the back of your mind, a voice said you probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you found yourself leaning in anyway. Your lips connected with his, pressing firmly against him. He kissed back almost immediately, slipping his hand to your neck as his fingers snaked into your hair. The cave was suddenly warmer than you could handle and you pulled back, eyes wide at what you’d done.

Anakin stretched behind you, waking up. “Well, I suppose we should start walking again?”

Ben answered, not taking his eyes off you. “Yes, we should. Then we’ll at least reach the city limits by daybreak tomorrow.”

“We’re going to walk through the night?” you asked in dismay.

“It’s best that we make haste,” Ben replied, getting up and pulling his cloak back on.

“R-right,” Anakin seconded, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of you.

“If we make it to the city limits by dawn, then we’ll be able to rent a horse for the last leg of the journey,” Ben added, as a consolation. 

You nodded, getting yourself together to follow them out into the late afternoon sun.

The walk was harder now, with the ground slick with wet grass and mud. It was slower going, and somehow you managed to hold onto Ben’s hand the entire time. He kept you from falling, and pulled you out of the mud when you got stuck. He barely looked at you as you went until you needed help. Then, there was concern in his eyes as he steadied you, an extra hand on your arm to make sure that you were in fact alright. 

It confused you. You were to be married to a man you hadn’t known in a long time, and yet here you were falling for a farmer who couldn’t even look at you for longer that ten seconds since you’d kissed. Still, you knew that nothing you’d have with the King would ever be as easy as with this farmer, but there was nothing you could do. Your kingdom needed this alliance. However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t stumble or slip a bit more so that you could spend more time with the farmer. All you were doing was prolonging the inevitable, you knew that. Yet, you wanted to do it. You were enjoying this sense of freedom before being bogged down with the needs of a kingdom again.

As night drew nearer, you held his hand tighter, not wanting to get separated in the dark. Ben gave your hand reassuring squeezes intermittently. Once, although you could not see it, you felt him bring your hand to his lips and kiss it when you’d stopped at a fork in the road.

Somehow, they knew the way in the dark. It was almost as if they’d spent years traveling these roads, which you thought was odd for a farmer. Then again, he probably traveled to sell his wares. As it got darker, it grew colder. That was when you felt a cloak being dropped on your shoulders. You nestled into it, squeezing his hand in response. 

Your feet were so tired you felt like they would fall off of your body and abandon you. At that point, you realized that you had been walked the majority of the way to the palace, a trip that took about six hours by carriage, but a day and a half on foot. You wanted to stop. You wanted to rest. But, you knew that if you were tired, then so were they. Yet, they kept going to get you to your destination. They didn’t give up, and neither would you.

Finally, dawn started to break. You’d broken out onto wide open road a while ago, but now in the early morning rays, you could see the city sprawling before you and the ocean beyond it. You nestled further into your layers as the sea breeze ruffled the fabric. 

“Is that...?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at it. “That’s Stewjon.”

“It’s massive,” you breathed. 

“Which is why I said we’d get horses to take you to the palace,” he winked. “Besides, the best way to tour the city for the first time is on horse.”

“You’re going to give me a tour?” you asked, unable to keep the giddiness from your voice. Perhaps you didn’t have to say goodbye so soon, after all.

“If that is alright with you,” he grinned.

“You two go on ahead,” Anakin yawned. “I’m going to go home.”

Ben shot him a glare.

Your brow furrowed. Home? But they were farmers. There were no farms around the city.

“I mean... I’m going to find some lodgings,” Anakin chuckled nervously. “You know, my brain is so tired I should get some sleep so I can start making sense again.”

You raised a brow as the boy awkwardly backed away.

Ben gently took your hand and tugged you towards the stables. “Wait here.”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you waited for him to return with a horse. He helped you up into the saddle before climbing on behind you. His body was warm against your back and you found yourself leaning into him, resting your back against his chest.

He set the horse into a slow pace, pointing out various businesses and places all over the town. People waved to him as he passed and he waved back.

“You’re quite popular,” you teased.

“Nonsense,” he murmured, “They’re just friendly here.”

“I hope I’m well received,” you sighed.

“I’m sure you will be, lass,” he whispered in your ear.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine in a way you’d never felt before. As you closed your eyes, you pictured what it would be like to have him whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of your bedroom. His hands were warm around yours as he held onto the reins. They were large and calloused. You couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against your skin, fingers splayed as they trailed up your sides.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, severing your connection to your daydream. You couldn’t be thinking like this. Not now. 

“Take me to the palace, please,” you said with a sad smile.

“Of course,” Ben replied, but you thought there was a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice.

The rest of the ride was silent. He put you down in front of the palace steps. Each step up them put more and more distance between the two of you in more ways than just physically. With every step, you tried to wall up your heart to protect you. You didn’t dare to say goodbye for fear of not being able to let go. You felt foolish, loving a man so easily and so quickly, but it felt like you’d know him for years, not mere days.

You placed your hand on the door, fingers spread and pushed it in to enter a grand hall. A woman quickly flitted over to you, giving you a hard appraisal.

“I’m sorry, but the King isn’t seeing to the townspeople today.”

“Oh, I’m not....” you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to explain yourself as the woman raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m the King’s betrothed. My carriage was attacked and I had to walk the rest of the way here.” You dug out the necklace that the King had sent you as a gift and showed it to her.

Her eyes lit up in recognition and she curtseyed, “Of course, your highness. My apologies. My name is Padmé Amidala. I serve as an advisor to the King. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.”

“May I not see the King first?” you asked. “I’ve traveled all this way.”

“Wouldn’t you like to make yourself look....presentable first?” 

You looked down and took in your appearance. “I suppose I ought to.”

Padmé nodded and led you towards your rooms. They were grand rooms, richly furnished with all the finest pieces and fabrics. Yet, they lacked the warmth and familiarity of yours back home.

Servants came to draw a bath for you. Once it was full, you dismissed them and sunk into the tub. It’s nice to bathe in warm water again, you thought as you leaned your head against the rim of the tub. 

Your eyes cast a critical glance back and forth as you took in your surroundings. As nice as the rooms were, part of you wondered if it were only a temporary arrangement. After all, you’d have to move into the King’s room eventually once you were married.

Quickly, you sunk below the water at the thought. Sharing a room with another person? Hell, sharing a room with a man? The thought was overwhelming.

When you broke back through the surface, you noticed that the sun was starting to set. It was then that you realized just how much time you had spent with Ben around town. It had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Your fingers started to wrinkle from the water and you decided to emerge from the tub. Wrapping a robe around you, you padded back towards your bedroom to find Padmé waiting for you.

“Your highness, we must take some measurements for your wedding dress,” she informed you as a group of handmaidens swarmed into the room. 

You were guided up onto a pedestal and turned this way and that as they draped a gown around you, pinning and stitching things in place. 

“How soon will this be finished?” you asked.

“Don’t fret, your highness, I’ll have the dress finished in time for your nuptials tomorrow,” the seamstress said as she packed up her things.

“Tomorrow?” you asked incredulously. It was so much sooner than you thought.

“Of course,” Padmé smiled, “The King will want to marry you at sunset tomorrow, as is tradition.”

“Isn’t that... quite soon?” you asked.

“You’ve known each other for years, have you not?”

“Well,” you sighed as you pulled your robe back on. “May I at least speak with the King first?”

“I’m afraid not, your highness,” she said with a sad smile, “His majesty is in a meeting with the war council tonight. It’s to go over plans for reinforcing your father’s troops. I don’t think he’ll be out any time soon.”

“I see,” you said, a frown of disappointment apparent on your face. “I’d like to enjoy dinner in my room tonight, Padmé. There’s no sense in eating in the dining room if I am to be eating alone.”

“Of course, your highness,” Padmé nodded, ushering everyone out the door. She paused in the doorway before turning back to you. “If it helps at all, your highness, please know that his majesty is a kind man. He is just as nervous about this as you, but I can promise you that everything he will ever do is to protect you. When you were late in arriving.... well, I have never seen him more distraught. I was sure he’d scour the kingdom just to find you.”

“I see,” you murmured, looking out the window at the vast kingdom. “Thank you, Padmé.”

She left without another word.

When dinner arrived, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but then you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since the tavern fiasco. Regardless of whether or not it actually was the best meal you’ve eaten, your hunger made it so. 

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky had turned into the indigo depths of a lightless ocean. You settled on the window seat and opened the window to feel the chill night air on your face. Your farmer was out there somewhere, with his eyes like the sky in the morning when you have a whole day ahead of you, bright and nary a cloud in the sky. As you closed your eyes, you pictured his face, his strong jaw, his beard as it brushed the shell of your ear during the tour of the kingdom, his strong arms as they wrapped around you. Never had you felt more safe. 

You fell asleep on the bench, dreaming of your farmer. It wasn’t until much later that you woke up to a pair of arms carrying you to bed.

Fluttering your eyelids, you noticed a shadow holding you. Your first instinct was to push back as you gasped in fear.

“Shhhhh, lass,” a man murmured as he tucked you into the covers. “Are you scared?” He gently smoothed your hair out of your face, “Don’t be. I’ll protect you from today onwards. Always.”

In your heart, you believed him. You couldn’t make out any of his features as he retreated towards the hall, but when he opened the door, the candlelight reflected off the crown on his head. By then, you could barely keep your eyes open and let yourself succumb to sleep.

Padmé let you sleep in the next morning, having guessed that you had been through quite the ordeal and were thoroughly exhausted. When they finally woke you up, it was around noon and they started to get you ready for your wedding.

It was all a blur as you felt your nerves begin to rise, settling into your chest like a weight. You couldn’t eat, instead just allowing yourself to be taken over by the process and trusting your new handmaidens and Padmé completely.

Soon, you found yourself at the chapel as the afternoon sun started to set, swathing you in colorful light from the stained glass. Your hand came up to squeeze your pendant in your hand, wishing that your father could have been there. Ahead of you stood a man with his back towards you, a crown nestled in his auburn hair. Part of you wondered if you could really go through with this, but then you remembered that this was for the good of the kingdom. Your life was never just yours. You lived for your people, and what your people needed was for you to solidify this alliance. For your own sake, you hoped that love would come later, once Ben was long forgotten. If you could ever manage that.

You walked with a measured gait towards the front of the chapel, coming to rest next to the man that would be your husband. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but then he turned to you and time stopped.

He watched with a smile as your eyes widened and your mouth parted slightly. He was so very handsome. His beard looked incredibly soft. His eyes were a brilliant blue and you were certain that you’d drown in them someday. He was your farmer, and here he was holding his hand out for you to take.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured as you took his hand.

“When you didn’t show up as expected, I had to go searching for you. We traveled the main road and found your carriage. Then, Anakin and I broke off to find you,” he explained.

“But I thought-”

“That I was a farmer,” he grinned, “I couldn’t put a target on my back when there was already one on yours. Traveling the way we did was better for all involved.”

“You could’ve told me,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“I hadn’t seen you in years. I wanted to know you just as you are, and for you to know me in the same regard,” he replied, kissing your hand.

“And the name Ben?” you asked.

“A nickname from an old friend who lives in a cloister,” he explained.

“I love you,” you told him earnestly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, “I love you, too, lass.”

The bishop cleared his throat in front of you and you both shared a wide grin before turning back towards him to finish the proceedings.

For the entire ceremony, you were thinking of the man standing next to you and how you knew that no matter what, everything would be alright. You recited your vows, exchanged your rings, and turned back towards each other.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Your majesty, you may kiss your bride,” the bishop grinned.

Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed down your face towards your lips as his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His other hand came up to tilt your face towards his. Gently, he stroked his thumb across your cheek. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you settled your hands on his chest. 

He leaned down to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours. To your surprise, he dipped you back, causing you to chuckle against his lips as he straightened the two of you out. Then, he scooped you up and carried you towards your castle so that you could live happily ever after.  

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan fanfiction #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #Obi-Wan x Fem! Reader #arranged marriage fic

[skycollides]

I have another idea if that’s okay😂 Have you heard the whole “you’re really quiet today” and the other person says “nobody plans a murder out loud” could you maybe do that with angel like someone’s flirting with reader and he’s staring and hates it and gets jealous/annoyed but in the end reader reassures him she doesn’t care if people flirt with her bc she only wants him? Just for it to be a fluffy ending? Thank you so much if you take it💗💗

Babe I hope you enjoy this one. 💜🥰

Nobody Plans A Murder Out Loud

Angel x Reader

Authors note: I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes

English isn’t my native language.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Warning: none

Words: 1.949

You didn’t get to see your boyfriend Angel that much during the past couple of weeks. Him being busy with the club and you with work so you’re quite happy when Angel came home early and told you to get ready.

This is what you’re doing right now! After you took shower and finished your makeup you’re now standing in front of your wardrobe not sure what to wear. You look around and finally see something that catches your eye. The dress Angel loves to see you in the most. You decide to go for it and grab the matching heels. You try to zip it up but it won’t work. You actually wanted to surprise him with your outfit but plans chance. Your only hope now is Angel.

’’Angel?’’ you yell his name frustrated.

’’Angel’’

’’I’m here querida what’s wrong?’’ he asks you and wraps his arms around your shoulders while resting his head on your head. He watches your appearance in the mirror closely. You look at him with a pout on your face and grab onto his strong arms.

’’Can you help me with the zipper? It’s kinda stuck.’’ you ask him and he nods.

’’Anything for you.’’ he kisses your head and shorty after he’s done and places a kiss on your neck. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck before kissing him.

’’Thank you Angel.’’

’’No need to thank me baby. You look absolutely breathtaking.’’ he says and you blush. No matter how long you’ve been together he still manages to make you blush.

’’You look quite handsome Mr. Reyes. I’m one lucky girl. C’mon’’ you say and grab his hand.

’’we gotta go’’.

About 20 minutes later you and Angel reach your favorite restaurant. The waiter bring you to your table and the both of you sit down. 

’’Thank you baby for taking me out’’ you say and smile at him.

’’No need to thank me mi dulce. It’s the least I can do after being busy with the club and not being able to send much time with you lately.’’ he replies and grabs your hand brining it to his lips kissing the back of it softly.

’’I love you!’’

’’I love you too so much’’

Shorty after the waiter returns with the menus and hands one to Angel before he turn to you handing it to you with the words.

’’And one for the beautiful lady’’ and winks at you. You take it not giving him a second thought and look through it which is why you missed Angels glare.

’’Baby what are you getting?’’ you ask him and look up.

’’Not sure yet. What about you?’’ he asks you.

’’Same as always I don’t even know why I went through it. I mean I eat the same thing each time we are here.’’ you laugh and he gives you a smile. Soon the waiter returns and takes your order. Once he left you see frown on Angels face.

’’What’s wrong Angel?’’ you ask and grab his hand.

’’Nothing Y/n.’’ he reassures you and squeezes your hand. You are totally wrapped up in your conversation when the food arrives not giving the waiter any attention the two of you keep talking. After you’re done eating and the waiter comes back you see Angels facial expression change once again and he gets more and more quiet the longer you are at the restaurant.

The waiter takes the plates and winks at you before he leaves. You roll your eyes and look at your man again.

’’You*re awfully quiet now my love’’

’’Nobody plans a murder out loud.’’ he says shortly before taking a sip of his beer continuing to stare at the table. You watch him with a smile.

’’Keep planning I’m using the restroom.’’ you grab your purse and get up. Your destination the manager. Once you find her she pulls you in her arms.

’’Hey darling.’’ she greets you.

’’Hey Momma G’’ you say. Momma G happens to be your best friends mother.

’’I didn’t know you’re here.’’ she says.

’’Yeah date night. Angel took me out.’’ you say smiling.

’’Ah the handsome Reyes boy. I hope he still treats you well?’’

’’Yes more than well Momma G. He’s the best.’’

’’I’m glad to hear that.’’ she smiles.

’’Why I’m here Momma G. The waiter over there’’ you say and point at him.

’’He can’t take a hint. He keeps staring at me and and flirting I felt kinda uncomfortable. So does Angel I think. He got more and more quiet the longer we’re here. I didn’t want to cause a scene so I wanted to talk to you in private.’’ you end your speech giving her a sad smile.

’’I’m so sorry darling. I’ll talk to him. You go and get your man. Dinner is on me tonight. Wait here I’ll be back.’’ she says and leaves. When she returns she’s holding a bottle of wine in her hands.

’’This one is for you and Angel. The best wine I have here. Pretty expensive too. I’m going to charge w/n with it for making you and Angel uncomfortable. I hope it’s teaching him a lesson. Oh and our cook is wrapping up some chocolate cake for you.’’ she says handing you the bottle.

’’Thanks Momma G’’ you say and kiss her cheek.

’’No need to thank me Y/n. It’s the least I can do.’’ she replies and the door opens. In comes the cook Antonio with the cake.

’’There you go.’’ he says.

’’Thank you Toni’’ you say.

’’Enjoy your night Y/n’’ she says.

’’You too and thanks again for spoiling us like this.’’ you leave and return to your man. 

’’I thought you wanted to use the restroom and not raid the kitchen’’ he says and you laugh.

’’I thought you were planning a murder and not trying to become a comedian.’’

’’1:0 for you baby. Why are you still standing?’’

’’Because you and I are leaving now. Come on’’ you nod with your head into the direction of the entrance. He gets up and follows you. Once you reach your car you put the stuff inside while Angel lights up a cigarette sitting hood of your car. You close the door and sit next to him.

’’You know I hate it when I take you out and you decide to pay.’’ he says.

’’Yes I know. Good thing then that I’m a good girl and listen to my man from time to time.’’ you laugh and nudge his side.

’’Great now my girlfriend decides to do a runner. I didn’t know you had that kind of criminal energy inside of you! Girl you’re a bad influence on me.’’ he says laughing. You get up and stand in front of him.

’’I’m full of surprises. Jokes aside babe. Momma G invited us. Let’s go home Angel. I love these heels but they aren’t made to walk in them.’’

Half an hour later you’re home Angel unlocks the door and you head straight to the living room. Angel get 2 wine glasses and forks for the cake. When he returns you sit on the couch in nothing but your underwear. Angel stares at you with wide eyes.

’’Like what you see Reyes’’ you say and he only nods.

’’Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not trying to have sex with you. At least not yet and now gimme my cake’’ you practically demand.

’’Why are you sitting here like this. Not that I’m complaining mi dulce.’’ he says and sits down next to you.

’’Didn’t want so spill anything on the dress and ruin it. I know how much you love seeing me in it and I love the way you look at me when I’m wearing it.

’’Yeah so do other men’’ he says thinking you didn’t hear him but you did.

’’Angel? I know the waiter bothered you. His behavior bothered me too - Made me feel uncomfortable because I saw the change in your eyes. I know you were upset and I hate to see you like this. That’s why I went to Momma G instead of the restroom like I told you. She apologized for the waiters behavior and charged him with the bottle of wine. That thing is hella expensive. And she packed us up some cake so we can continue our date at home. Btw I’m happy you didn’t murder him. I’d hate to see you locked up. I want you to know that I love you. You’re the only one for me - my ride or die. I don’t really pay attention to other men because I have only eyes for you. You treat me so well Angel better than anyone has before - better than I could have imagined like ever. I love you with all the rough edges and flaws. You may not be perfect but that’s okay on one is - but what is important you’re perfect for me. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re my kind of perfect. Don’t ever doubt yourself. You and Me that’s all that matters you hear me. You and me always. I’m not letting go of you like ever. I love you and no-one else. I love you so much it scares me sometimes. I’m done speaking now incase you’d like to say something.’’ you say ending your monologue. He doesn’t say anything. Instead he gets up form the couch and leaves you sitting there. You’re confused hoping you didn’t overwhelm him with your speech. He soon returns to you and sits down on the coffee table in front of you. He takes your hand in his and plays with your fingers.

’’You know I usually don’t talk about my feelings but with you it seems so simple. You’re the best thing that happened to me Y/n never for get that. I wasn’t looking for a relationship but then you came into my life and swept me off my feet. I couldn’t be more thankful to have you in my life. You treat me well, you love me and take care of me. You gave me a home I’m happy to return to every night. You changed me. You make me want to be a better version of myself everyday. Y/n I want you to know that I feel the same there is no-one else but you on my mind. I don’t give a fuck about the girls hanging around the clubhouse. You’re the one I want - the one I crave. I couldn’t be more happy to have such an intelligent and beautiful, kindhearted and also badass woman by my side. I’m so thankful I was blessed with a woman like you. I love you mi dulce more than anything in this world.’’ he drops down on one knee and pulls out a beautiful ring holding it in his hand. You can’t believe it’s happening.

’’Y/n, my sweet sweet Y/n would you want to spent the rest of your life with me?

Will you become my Mrs. Reyes - my wife?

Will you marry me?’’

’’A thousand times yes Angel’’ you say and he and he takes the ring slipping it on your finger before for kissing you passionately.

’’Shit Angel. I can’t believe it.’’

’’Well you better do my fiancée’’ he says with a smile.

’’Fuck the cake Reyes I need you more than that take me to bed.’’ you say laughing.

He shakes his head laughing 

’’Your wish is my command my fair lady.’’ and with that you stand up and he throws you over his shoulder taking you there. 

Taglist:

@everyhowlmarksthedead

@mayans-sauce

@justatiredfool

@ocetevasgirl

@lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo

@queenbeered

@angelreyesgirl

@starrynite7114

@spookys-girl

@charcoocheurie

@nadinesabre

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #angel reyes #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader #clayton cardenas

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [9]

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 9.5 OR Chapter 10

➜ Words: 3.9k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

➜ Warnings: Heavy mentions of sexual themes.

cr.

Fuck romance.   That shit is overrated anyway. Everywhere you look, there’s love here and there — in television shows, movies, advertisements, short stories, novels. But it hits you like a train, like a light switch that finally turned on in your head, you don’t need love to be happy. You don’t need someone else. You’re perfectly content with being by yourself for the rest of your life. You’ll never have to shackle yourself down or compromise again. It’s the ultimate freedom.    “I approve this message.” Aeri nods several times.   “Right?!” You wipe away the cheeto dust that’s accidentally sprinkled on the pouch you call your stomach. Your sweater’s ridden up as you’re slumped over her bed. “Like do people even realize that almost half of marriages end in divorce?”   “Exactly.”   “Love? It’s all trash feelings. It’s a distraction. Why should I have to work hard for years and then throw away my career and ambition to stay at home and have kids and then eventually be divorced and have to fight over custody?” There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you shake your head.    “Men ain’t shit.”   “Hallelujah.” You don’t believe in love anymore, not when you’ve come to realize that you’ve been brainwashed for so long. Now, you were enlightened. But you just can’t believe you were so blinded and stupid in the first place. You were crying over a guy who wasn’t worth shit. “But where are you going?”   Aeri is dressed up in a summer outfit despite it being the end of February and still frigid outside. She looks at herself in the mirror, fixes her lipstick and then whirls around. “Oh, I’m just...meeting up with Hoseok.”   “You’re going on a date?”   A blush creeps up on her cheeks. “N-No. W-Well...he didn’t really call it that.”   “Oh my god, all my friends are leaving to the dark side.”   “Just for a little, love.” She winks at you and you can’t hate her when she’s so evidently excited. Aeri grabs her bag and smiles. “Well I shouldn’t make him wait. How do I look?”   “If Jung doesn’t cream himself, he doesn’t deserve you.”   The tips of her ears turn scarlet and she throws a pillow at you, making you laugh. You watch Aeri leave and then the silence settles. You sigh and get up to go to your only friend left.   Your fist pounds on his door for a good second until it opens.   “Jesus, try not to break it down, will you?”   “Hey, Yoongi,” you greet the person on the worn sofa, brushing past Jungkook. “Where’s the other guys?”   “Well, unlike you two, people actually have their own lives,” Jungkook mutters, flopping down to where his butt’s been imprinted into the couch seat and he resumes his game.   “Taehyung and Jimin are in class like good students,” Yoongi says, “and I’m only here cause Hope’s ditched me for a lame date apparently.”   “Same.”   “Is my room a refugee camp?” Jungkook glances over with his brow cocked. “Am I everyone’s second choice?”   “Get used to it,” Yoongi mutters, watching Jungkook play.   In the meanwhile, you walk over to Jungkook’s bed that’s sloppily made with the covers wrinkled, but at least the effort shows. You’re about to flop down and maybe roll over to take a nap, but then you pause, gawking at his collection of IU merchandise.   You’ve seen it before, but you realize you’ve never gotten a good look. There are posters of her from when she debuted in 2008 until the most recent comeback lining the corner of his wall like a small shrine. And over his bed is a shelf of albums and her lightstick. “Wow, you have a lot of her stuff. Must’ve costed a fortune.”   It occurs to you that he even had a substantial amount of IU things in his room at his parent’s home — little things that you didn’t pay mind to at the time — a sweater that was on a hook, more albums, some DVD sets, posters of her in her dramas.   Your comment seems to trigger a reaction from him. Jungkook pauses the game and those bambi eyes of his are rounded. He’s defensive. “What?”   “He’s got a massive hard on for her,” Yoongi snickers.   “Don’t talk about Jieun like that.”   You steal a glimpse of Jungkook, rather puzzled over his hobby. You just never expected Jeon Jungkook to have an idol, or rather, celebrity crush. “Why do you like her so much?”    He looks like he doesn’t even know where to start. “She’s just so...talented.”   “Oh, here we go again.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.   “Shut up,” Jungkook spits and then turns to answer your question seriously. “Her voice is beautiful, she’s good at singing, she can play guitar, and she’s really cute. She produces a lot of her music too. And her personality is great. She’s kind and funny. She donates a lot and stuff like that.” Jungkook shrugs. “I just like her.”   “Yeah I get it.” You nod while staring into IU’s eyes. “She’s pretty hot and cute. I’d do her if given the chance.”   His big nose wrinkles. “You act like you don’t have any celebrity crushes either.”   “True. If Song Joongki walked through the door right now, I would throw myself at his feet and he could do whatever he wants with me. He’s so handsome and such a sweet guy.” You sigh wistfully, wishing you had someone like that. “Do you have any celebrity crushes, Yoongi?”   “What’s her face from the Notebook.”   “Rachel McAdams?”   “Yeah, her.”   “Okay, I can see that. Jungkook!”   “What?”   “Would you smash or pass Rachel McAdams?”   He wrinkles his nose again. “Smash, I guess.”   “You guess.” A scoff comes from your throat. “What? You think you’re too good for her?”   “No. She’s just okay.”   “You’re wrong,” Yoongi deadpans, making you laugh.   You ask— “Okay, how about Sana from Twice? Smash or pass.”   “Smash.” — “Pass.”   Both you and Yoongi look at him with brows raised and you audibly gasp. “Dude, even I would smash her. Why would you pass? She’s cute and hot. Isn’t that your type?”   “No.” Jungkook snorts. “You don’t know my type.”   “Okay, so who would you smash then?”   “I don’t know. Maybe Gong Hyo Jin. That main girl from Master’s Sun.”   “Seriously?”   Jungkook glances over. “Why?”   “No, she’s pretty and really girl-next-door-ish. She’s just older, like twenty one years older than us.”   “Yeah, well, she’s good at what she does. She’s a good actress.”   Apparently being good at what they do is enough for Jungkook to want to bang them.   It’s a juvenile game, but a fun one. And it’s particularly interesting to hear both Yoongi and Jungkook’s responses. They’re unpredictable, unlike Taehyung who you’re sure would say yes to anything as long as it breathed, and Jimin who would be too shy to answer.   “How about people we know? Byun Baekhyun.”   “No.” Yoongi answers right away. “He’s so loud, he gives me a headache.”   “If you find him annoying, it makes for good hate sex.”   “Sure. But that’s still a no.”   “Okay then, who would you say yes to?”   “I don’t really swing that way but if I were to give it a shot, maybe Kim Jongin, just so he can teach me how he gets the ladies.”   “Word,” Jungkook mutters, concentrating on his game.   “Or maybe Lee Ken,” Yoongi points out. “His face looks good enough for me to spit on.”   “That’s disgusting.” Jungkook wears a distressed expression, looking at you as if to ask if you’re hearing the same things he is, but you merely laugh.   “Trust me, Ken’s a screamer. Jin told me about it when they shared a room during their first year.” You don’t notice how Jungkook pauses his game at the mention of your ex. He stares at you from across the room, on the edge of his seat, but you don’t have a trace of sadness on your features. “He’ll burst your eardrums. He’s a loud dude.”   “No thanks then.” Yoongi hums and bluntly considers, “Maybe Seokjin then. He’s pretty good looking. Looks spitable.”   You smile softly. “He’s too nice for you, Yoongi.”   You recall the faded memories with Seokjin, but they don’t make you feel so sad anymore. Your heart doesn’t ache as much. It makes you wonder if this is what it means to move on.   //   The cardboard box is in your lap as you study the small trinket in your hand before tossing it in. Everything that Jin ever gave to you, anything that’s associated with him, sweaters and tokens, key chains from amusement parks and stuffed animals he gave is thrown in the box or stuffed in a trash bag.   “I wonder if I’ll ever regret giving this stuff away.”   “Maybe, but you’ll always have new stuff and new memories and all that.”   “Yeah.” You remind yourself that you’re just making space for the new memories you’ll make — maybe with Aeri, maybe with Taehyung and Yoongi, Hoseok or Jimin, or Jungkook, or just by yourself.   Jungkook helps you put away the stuff, asking every once in a while if you wish to discard a certain object. You had asked for his help, afraid you would chicken out, and you promised him that in return, you would buy him a meal.   It seems like you owe a lot to Jungkook these days.   You donate it all before deleting all of Seokjin’s contact information on your phone. The pressed rose he once gave you on your first date and the first note he ever passed you in class is thrown away too.   Finally, you’ve severed your ties with Seokjin once and for all. It’s a bittersweet moment, like sugar mixed with coffee. Not quite sweet but not quite bitter.   The room seems emptier, but it’s welcoming.   “So where are you going to treat me?”   Suddenly, a light bulb flicks on inside your brain. Your entire face lights up and Jungkook notices, shifting on his spot in discomfort. It’s never good when you have ideas. “I think I know something better we can do.”   “Better than eating?”   “When was the last time you ate some pussy, Jeon?”   Jungkook chokes on his spit. He wheezes. And pounds his chest. Jungkook’s doe eyes look at you in horror like he’s been personally violated. “What?”   You repeat the question and he makes a strangled noise like he’s absolutely disgusted talking about this with you.    “Are you ten? Answer the question.”   “I don’t know! Maybe like over a year ago,” he rambles in a breath, “I dated a girl named Olivia for a few months but then it didn’t end up working out, so we broke up.”   You put your hand on your friend’s shoulder, squeezing securely while nodding once. “I think we're both deprived of some good pussy and cock.”   “So what do you propose?” He doesn’t know where you’re going with this.   “We go to a club and get ourselves some one-night stands.”   “That’s a terrible idea,” Jungkook spits without even needing to think. It’s instinctive. Impulsive. Like he knows not to squeeze a lemon into his eye, to not touch his crotch area after handling chili peppers, to not take toast out with a metal fork.   “Why not?” You shrug. “Some low-level commitment, no love or strings attached sex. We don’t need relationships to keep us satisfied and we don’t need to keep...you know handling it ourselves…” Your hand makes a rounded circle and you thrust back and forth obscenely, wiggling your brows, and it makes Jungkook groan.   “Oh my god. Please stop.”   “Listen, I’ll be the best wingwoman you’ve ever seen. I owe you, right? So I’ll find you the best fuck of life and then I’ll find my own. I see this as an absolute win-win.”   “It’ll be fun,” you insist and then pout when he continues to glare. “If you’re not coming, I’ll go by myself.”   “You’re not going by yourself,” Jungkook says.   “Why? You can’t tell me what to do. What are you, my dad?”   “Why? Because you’re an idiot. If I see you on the news, I’ll never be able to forgive myself….” You scoff and he continues. “—for being best friends with such an idiot…”   “Are you coming or not, jackass?”   Jungkook sighs.   //   It’s spontaneous. One moment he’s in your dorm room and the next blink, there are strobe lights flashing around, sweaty bodies, and deafening music. The alcohol on his tongue is certainly not enough to make him feel remotely sane. Jungkook didn’t even have enough time to drag Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok or Yoongi over. You told him that it was a two man mission and any more people would only serve as a distraction to the main goal.   He’s not sure what you think that goal is. Jungkook isn’t really a one-night stand kind of guy.   “Hey!” You scream in his ear above the booming beat, making him wince. Your breath is stained with that tequila. “What do you think of her?!” You point to a girl dancing on the floor. “She’s got a great ass!”   He internally sighs. “Why don’t you go fuck her then?!”   “What?” Your voice strains above the music.   “Go fuck her!” He points.   You frown, lips lopsided. “You want to suck her?!”    Jungkook’s last two brain cells are about to die. “Never mind!”   “What?!”   He shakes his head and then you giggle.    Jungkook wonders if you’re just fucking with him, but before he can even react and perhaps punch you, you’re leaning over the bar, waving your arm towards the bartender. “Excuse me! Can we get two shots again?!”   Of all the shit you make him go through, he’s hoping you don’t get drunk. He can’t carry your ass back to the dorm. His back is too precious for your idiocy.   The two of you down the alcohol given to you and he shudders after. The taste is sharp and beginning to dull his senses. You can feel it too, how the world is spinning faster and that’s when you begin, clasping your hands together. “Alright!” You lean in close to talk into his ear, breath skimming against his neck. “Let’s get down to business, Jeon. Anyone caught your attention yet? How about her?”   You signal to a busty girl sitting alone at the bar. She’s in a tight, red dress with her lips matching the same crimson shade. Her black hair contrasts the boldness, cascading down her back in waves.    Jungkook looks and then glances at you. “Not re—Hey! Where are you going?!”   You strut with drunken confidence, sliding up to the girl with plans to be the best wingwoman on this planet. “Is it always this noisy?”   The girl turns her head and visibly relaxes to see another female and not a greasy dude. “Well, it’s a club. So yeah, it usually is.”   “I’m just not used to it.” You sigh and take a seat on the stool. “Know any good drinks?”   “Chardonnay’s pretty good,” she tells you with a friendly, open expression. “Usually wine sucks at bars, but it’s pretty good here.”   “I’ll order it then,” you muse and extend your arm with a grin. “I’m Y/N.”   “Hyuna.” She shakes your hand, red lips curling.   “Can you do me a favour, Hyuna?” You point across the bar to Jungkook. He’s frozen. Watching you in horror like you’re trying to seduce his mom or something.    You wish he’d wipe that stupid fucking expression off his face. It’s not helping. Frankly, it ruins his looks and for once he’s not in gym shorts or sweatpants. Jungkook’s dark hair is gelled back, black dress shirt and black trousers fitted to his muscular frame. It took so much nagging to get him dressed up, but it was worth it. If he didn’t look so dumb, you would be proud of your best friend.   “My poor friend here really likes you, but he’s pretty shy. If you said hi, I’m pretty sure it would make his entire night.”   Hyuna gazes at him and her smile only widens. “I’d be happy to help.”   “Great!” You slide off the stool, strutting back. Inside your head, you are screaming for joy that you actually pulled that shit off on the first try without getting a drink thrown in your face.    Maybe you should consider switching career paths.   Jungkook leans in close to you when you’re in earshot distance. “What the hell are y—”   “Jungkook, this is Hyuna. Hyuna, this is Jeon Jungkook.”   Her hips sway as she approaches him and she extends her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”   Jungkook shakes it with a polite smile, trying to diminish the awkwardness and attempting to be civil. In the meanwhile, Hyuna’s cat-eyes sweep him up and down, focusing on how his pants are tight around the meat of his thighs.   Her perfume fills your senses. “Nice to meet you.”   You stick your nose between them. “Jungkook goes to baking school, so he knows how to knead dough! He’s really good at it!” You grab his wrist, pulling it up in front of her eyes. “Look at his hands!”   “Oh god, shut up.” If there was enough light in the room, you’re sure his face would be beet red. But unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s embarrassment is second-hand. He takes his own hand back and looks at the stranger. “I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She’s obviously drunk.”   “I’m not!” You’re just….happier. A little giddy. On an energy high.   Hyuna giggles and looks between you both. “Are you two togethe—”   “No.” Jungkook cuts her off and is truly thankful his relationship with you isn’t like that. He can barely handle you as a friend. Anything more would frankly be overwhelming. “We aren’t.”   “Oh, okay, cool. I thought this was going to be a threesome situation.”   Jungkook starts wheezing as you giggle. You put your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeeze. “Oh no, he can’t keep up with me. Not for miles. Anyway, I’ll leave you two at it. I should probably go to the bathroom, gotta take a leak.”   “Y/N.” Jungkook calls after you. “Y/N! L/N Y/N!”   He shouts after you, tightening his fist and wondering if you actually have the outrageous audacity to leave him behind like this with some chick you picked up like you just went grocery shopping. But much to his dismay, you don’t even glance behind you. You dive into the sweaty bodies, disappearing from sight.   He groans internally and turns back to Hyuna.   She smiles at him. “So you bake?”   “Yeah, well, I’m in this pastry program.”   “Wow.” Her thick lashes bat. “That’s so impressive! So you can make whatever dessert you want?”   “Working towards it.” He smiles meekly. “Are you, uh, here by yourself?”   Jungkook has never done this before, never talked to a girl like this — but so far it’s not bad. Probably because it was her who was salvaging the conversation and lessening the stiffness.   “It’s actually one of my friends’ birthday today, so we’re just out celebrating, but I lost them in the crowd.” She flashes a million watt smile. “I assume you’re just with your friend, Y/N?”   “Yeah, she dragged me out here. She’s a headache. I swear she’s shaving years off of my life.”   Hyuna laughs and bats his arm. She leans close and he swallows hard at the way her eyes sparkle, her lashes thick, and her cleavage is practically shoved in his face. “Want to dance?”   “I don’t really…”   “It’ll be fun. Trust me.” She takes his hand and drags him out on the floor.   In the meanwhile, half across the club, you’re dancing to the music. It’s not until a second later that you feel someone's hands on your waist and you turn around in their arms.    In dark lights, you make out a half-decent looking guy. “Shake that ass, babe.”   You smile at him, looping your arms around his neck. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Giving into temptation and the heat of another person’s body, not having to commit to someone else and put yourself out there. Maybe you were doing it all wrong to begin with.   You don’t even know his name, but you dance with the stranger, your sweaty bodies moving against one another. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but eventually he presses his crotch to your front and offers to buy you a drink through a whisper in your ear.   When you get to the bar, you don’t see Jungkook and Hyuna anymore and you wonder if he’s getting lucky in the washroom or if he’s gone completely.    But you try not to dwell on what your best friend might be doing. You focus on the present moment and order a Strawberry Daiquiri. You’re sipping your drink as you talk to the guy. You don’t exactly catch his name, but it doesn’t matter. The fewer connections, the better. After all, you’re just looking for a rebound.   But you’ve never done this before and in your nervousness and intoxication, you end up on a tangent. “Like it’s so easy to make better cheesecake! And there’s so many kinds of cheesecake.”   “Cheesecake?” The tall blonde frowns as if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about.   “Yeah! Cheesecake! All you need is the crust, cream cheese, sugar, eggs, sour cream, vanilla extract, and all-purpose flour! My favourite is actually chocolate cheesecake in a restaurant back at home and they had chocolate wafer crumbs in the crust and it was so delicious, must have had ganache between the layers or something. I can’t remember anymore.”   “Oh, cool.” The guy glances around, looking at the other people on the dance floor and the bar. When he realizes you’ve stopped talking, he directs his attention to you again. “Uh, what’s a ganache?”   “Ganache? It’s just chocolate and heavy cream and you can use it as a glaze, icing, sauce, or filling for pastries. You’ve probably had it before if you’ve had chocolate cake!”   “I see.” His eyes flicker down to the swell of your chest exposed by your small black number, and they linger there. “You ever tried pouring chocolate over your body?”   “What?”   You realize he doesn’t care about baking — he doesn’t care for what you have to say.   The guy excuses himself to the bathroom and never comes back. After ten minutes of waiting, you sigh and check your phone. You stand up, ready to leave as it occurs to you one-night stands aren’t really your thing.   You’re about to text Jungkook, but you catch his mop of hair on the dance floor. He’s dancing with Hyuna, her back pressed to his front. His hands are placed on the dips of her waist, grinding his front against her ass that’s pushed out. You make a face of disgust before snapping a blurry picture and sending to the group chat.   But Jungkook seems to be having fun, out of breath, but still enjoying himself. You’re happy for him, glad that at least one of you is getting lucky tonight. Or rather, it was Hyuna getting lucky.   Jungkook’s a great catch. You wonder why you didn’t realize it sooner. Whoever ends up with him will be fortunate.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #sugar and coffee #bts baking AU #jungkook baking AU #honestly I think this is a hilarious chapter #:D

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Hopping Lamp Post

The night was thick with sugared darkness that left my neighborhood feeling grainy and unreal in the velvet insides of night. I was hunched over on the sidewalk with my back to the front door.

“You can’t just come home at all hours of the night and expect--” “I told you I was at work!”

“Work my ass!”

“Can’t I come home from a long day without being…”

The voices screeched back and forth like alley cats defending their own piss-smelling crevice of the street they owned. I flinched and knew I didn’t want to go back inside. Never, ever, I could stay outside in the grim darkness for as long as it took no matter how much my mom hollered and pulled out her hair.

I used dirt to doodle circles in the cement in front of me and lost myself to the rough feel of the smeared earth. I was studying it like a painter studies the face of a subject when I heard the front door open.

“Where is that girl?” I jerked myself to my feet and scurried away down the street. My mom wasn’t so determined as to go anywhere past our front lawn. The neighborhood was hushed with little moths zapping at porch lights and windows all but empty black eyes staring out.

I wandered away from our block and it was only when I couldn’t see our house anymore that I let out my held breath. I blinked a few times as mist started twisting off the ground in haunting tiny spirals.

I turned around in circles as I watched the ground grow foggy and it wasn’t until I looked up that I saw it.

I stood up straight like the pads of my feet had been electrocuted. Right at the end of the street standing proudly tall and stiff was something that shouldn’t be there. I rubbed my eyes with my fists until little white spots appeared.

I opened my eyes again to find the same black metal thing with a glittering white light ahead. It wasn’t like any of the other lamp posts on the block-- not tall and tired bent metal and a hanging dull yellow light.

It was finely crafted with indents like a roman column and a curved neck with a hanging lantern at the end that gave off light like snowfall and stars. I took a cautious step toward it. It took a step back.

“What?” My brow folded in.

I edged closer and the thing edged back. I looked down and found that through the mist and unfurling curls of clouds that there was some sort of foot at the bottom of the lamp post. “Well that ain’t right.” I muttered and took a few hurried steps closer.

It leaned back from my presence like a fancy lady from a corner bum, but it wasn’t fast enough. I managed to get a few feet from the lamp post and squint up at its tall metal body.

“Where you from?” I asked as I would any stranger from out of town. It hopped back and I followed. I was on Wilkinson street now with more faceless tiny beige and grey houses that bled out into the highway. I couldn’t hear the busy traffic right then though.

I only had eyes for the hopping lamp post.

“You come far?” I said and circled around the light like a dog with a scent. “What’chu ya doing here?”

Bugs bumped into the glass of it's head and landed on it’s metal top as if to take up residence. I was close enough now to make out the big grey feathery moths with fat bodies and tiny white moths that look like delicate fairies lost from home.

I frowned at the closest moth. It’s wings were frayed and threadbare like it had been through the wash one too many times. Another moth had two sets of wings on its back. A third one was a little firefly that could barely glow it’s little butt at all.

“Huh.” I bit my bottom lip and glanced up shyly toward the light as we strolled to the end of Wilkinson. “They’re like me, huh?” I spoke slowly in a low voice as if not to spook it.

The mist was fuming off the ground in great big fistfuls now like the whole world was a bathtub and it was determined to fog up every single mirror nearby. I couldn’t hear so much as a yapping dog by then and no whir of cars that should still be running at this hour.

I gathered myself a little closer to the lamp that gave another enormous hop forward in a jerking unsteady motion. I glanced up to see that a bat was hovering close to the light. It’s tiny body was fury and it flapped mechanically by the side of the light. From head to foot it was pure white.

“Like me . . . ” I murmured and brought a hand up toward my chest to fist my shirt. “Wrong.”

I had never been wrong in the way people could tell. They couldn’t point at me and say “there’s that wrong girl!” But I had never had a teacher that hadn’t given me funny looks for my questions and hadn’t gone to a family reunion without an auntie muttering “that one’s a little off in the head” to another auntie.

I looked down as to not focus on the white bat or the double-winged moth or any of the other creatures that were pulled to the light of the lamp post. I stopped in place as I peered at the ground, but the ground didn’t seem to be there. It seemed to have fallen away and I gasped.

It was just dark beneath my ratty white sneakers. I looked up and the houses were all but distant outlines from a different life. The mist was growing thicker and the only light was from the silvery glow the lamp ahead.

I clenched my teeth and inhaled sharply through my nose. “Where are we?” I looked up and the lamp was now at least several paces away. “Wait!” I ran after it. “How do I get home?” It gave another mighty hop and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to turn back or find out about more things that shouldn’t be. I gave a small glance over my shoulder and it was all mist and darkness behind us now anyway. I kept following the hopping lamp.

The darkness became almost absolute and I held my breath as the mist grew thick and tangible. It licked my cheeks like a wet kiss and my hair was heavy on my shoulders from the moisture clinging to it.

I started shivering. I didn’t want to keep looking. I didn’t want to see what was beyond that mist and dank gloom. I started to hear things. I heard deep ugly breaths from something that had be bigger than the biggest horse I’d ever seen and bigger than any dog from down the street.

It gulped down air in a deep raspy voice. In. Out. It’s nose was probably the size of a bus and it’s lungs bigger than any whale. I could smell brine and salt in the air and I couldn’t stop shivering.

To my surprise the lamp’s pace slowed. It stopped in place and it’s hanging head turned and faced me. My eyes went wide, “So you ain’t gonna just leave me after all?” I whispered and slowly reached out my hand. I put it softly on the cool metal of the lamp and we began to walk together.

I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see the monsters we were approaching in the dark. I didn’t want to see what lay ahead. Nonetheless, I felt that warm bath of air hit me across the face and we passed the beasts.

I opened my eyes again to the sound of cars honking and an even stronger scent of salt. I turned and we were standing on a road this time with the mist still thick and dancing off the cement. Something was different.

The road was winding up a huge mountain top and on the other side was the twilight dusk and an ocean that spanned as far as I could see. It was a shifting flatness with pools of blue midnight and frothing white waves out in the distance. I smiled broadly. “I’ve never seen the ocean.” A car passed with it’s headlights blinking and it was like no car I had ever seen before. It’s windows were too broad and lamps too bright. The figure inside was shadowed and strange with hands made out of smudgy murkiness and a shrouded face.

I steadied myself. “Alright,” I put my hand back on the lamp post. “Let’s keep going.” We walked through that world of ocean and ghosts. I closed my eyes and we passed between another darkness with the sounds of sleeping monsters and into new unknown places. We entered a world of dirt roads that led past unkempt green gardens with fruit like diamonds and rubies. We went through nights that were all storms with lightning flashing out on the horizon and people that were shaped like angels flying out toward it.

The sun never rose and we never stopped walking. It could have been a lifetime. It could have been just that night and nothing else. I oohed and awed at the strange sights and smells of ozone and sunshine. It was only in that third darkness that my legs started to complain and my eyes started to droop and betray me.

The lamp slowed its pace to an inching crawl.

“It’s alright.” I yawned. “I don’t wanna go back.” I said softly with my eyes closed. We walked into the darkness of beasts once more. “But I gotta. Don’t I?”

Something landed on my shoulder as we went into a new road made of crushed white shells and with running water the color of mirrors besides us. Little floating lights dancing just above the surface of the river and I blinked at a giant moth perched on me. She had white feathery feelers and wings with grey eyes in the center. She was missing an eye on the right side of her face and I smiled at her.

“Well hey there,” She was the size of a kite and her little legs tickled my shoulder. “You’re not from where I’m from.” I said with a nod, “you’re awful pretty though. You all tangled up about going home too?” She moved her feelers up and down and cocked my head to the side. “It’s not so bad. But it’s not so good either.” I shivered from somewhere deep inside of me and gave her a sad smile. “I just . . . can’t seem to get myself to turn around yet.” The moth gave me a long look before she took off from my shoulder. She flapped away into the moonlight of this strange land and the lamp post simply sat in place. I made a face, “now you feel like stoppin?”

The lamp post simply angled it’s face to the sky.

I followed it with my eyes. It was a long few minutes in the cold damp air with the water rushing besides and lights flitting around. I waved when the moth finally returned with something between her feet. She was carrying something that shone with the force of gold teeth in the mouths of rich men. I opened my hand and the moth dropped a single coin into my hand.

“Oh,” I breathed and held up a golden metal disk. The front held face I didn’t recognize in any way on it.

A queen maybe. She was in profile on the coin with a half-smile, her eyes closed, and crown of light on her head. I made a hiccup of sound as the coin fit snuggling in my palm and gave off a strange burning warmth.

I turned it over and over in my hands and ran my fingers over squiggles on the back that could only be words. I sucked in breath. “What’s this for?” The moth only turned around and suddenly it was flying back toward the way we came. The lamp turned too and I frowned. In a twist that was more ironic than not the lamp started to follow the moth.

"Wait for me!" I trailed after.

We went back through the beast realm. Back through the night garden of jewels and back through the storm lands of angels and mountains of ghosts. We returned to my street with the slanted roofs and scraggly lawns.

I held the coin hard in my hands and turned to the lamp post. “Thank you.” I said with a nod as you’re supposed to for helpful strangers. “I’ll remember this, always.” I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to return yet, but the lamp bent its long head and the light caught in my eyes. I looked down and the words on the coin righted themselves like soldiers called to duty all at once.

“Be brave,” I read the words and traced them with my fingers. “Because the light will always come.” I blinked and the words remained just as the lamp kept hopping down the street on its endless trek. I slowly waved goodbye in the way of children who are able to accept things that shouldn’t be but are.

I turned and went back into my house just as the night was losing its shape and the sun broke across the heavens. And I was going to be brave for however long it took until the light came again.

--------

if you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or supporting me on patreon (even a dollar helps!)

#short story #fantasy #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[tanyawritesstories]

Who He Wants To Be | Waxer x Single Mom!Reader

Since Waxer is on my list of top 10 best space dads, I made him one! Kind of. You'll see, I hope y'all enjoy this cute little fic 😊

Word count: 2,903

Warnings: nothin but fluff, cute kids, Waxer is a good dad and partner, descriptions of a bag injury, a tiny bit of sad at the end, nothing too much.

•••

Waxer was getting tired of the sand and rocks. During the briefing, General Kenobi had described this as a tropical planet. So far, all they had encountered was flat rocky land and a scorching sun.

"Ugh, this place reminds me of Geonosis," Boil complained from beside him, "I thought General Kenobi said it was an oasis."

"It is an oasis once we get to our destination," Commander Cody said from above them on the tank. "How far out are we?" Waxer asked his Commander. "Only one klick, we should be there soon," Cody replied.

The soldiers and tanks continued to march forwards with nothing but dirt and rocks as far as the eye could see. The land was flat and they could see for miles. They didn't see any civilization anywhere on the horizon. Boil grumbled to himself again but Waxer paid no attention. The farther he walked the more the land in front of him began to change, it looked warped or distorted. It was only when he got to the crest did he realize that the land before him opened up into a valley. A river followed through the valley, providing the oasis Cody had mentioned. Lush trees and vegetation grew in abundance from what he could see, the complete opposite from the landscape above.

The platoon marched down into the valley and towards their destination. The location appeared to be free of enemies as it should be. The 104th had come through a few days before and wiped out the droid occupancy of the valley. The 212th were coming in behind to deliver supplies, medical aid, and food to the people, and also to help them rebuild.

At the sound of the tanks heavy footsteps drawing nearer to what they could now see was a village, the men could see people come running out of their homes. Men, women, and children stood just beyond the foliage, jumping up and down, cheering, celebrating, and welcoming the arrival of the soldiers. The tanks stopped outside the village and the men were greeted by exuberant villagers. They parted to make a path into the village center, cheering, clapping, some of them even reaching out to brush their fingers against the arms of the troopers. The children laid wide leaves at the soldiers feet for them to walk on and the women threw flower petals above their heads.

"I wish we got a warm welcome like this all the time," Waxer mused.

They were made a path into the center of the village where General Kenobi and Commander Cody spoke with the leaders. Everyone else got to work unloading supplies and rebuilding structures. Waxer was tasked with helping hand out the boxes of food. He and a few other clones had removed their helmets and were making sure the process was organized and running smoothly. He was standing off to the side checking the amounts of food boxes they had on a datapad, his helmet tucked under one arm. He felt something tap his leg and looked down. A little human girl probably no older than five was knocking on his shin guards. She stopped when she noticed she had his attention.

“Hi,” she greeted, her voice chipper and upbeat. “Hi,” Waxer responded with a smile.

“I made this for you,” she gently held a flower crown in her small hands, and lifted it up to him. Waxer kneeled down to be eye level with the youngster and set his datapad and helmet down. He took in the sight of several brightly colored small flowers strung together in a meticulous way he couldn’t quite understand.

“It’s beautiful, thank you,” he said, he reached out to accept the gift but the little girl pulled it back. “Can I put it on you?” Waxer was taken aback, an uncertain and slightly embarrassed blush coming to his face. “Um, sure.” He lowered his head and the small child carefully placed her floral gift atop his head. He pulled back and she began giggling at the sight of the soldier wearing a bright bunch of flowers on his head. Her contagious giggles were almost enough to drown out the sound of his brothers teasing him in the background.

“You look like a prince!” She exclaimed. “Do I?” He asked with a smile. “Yes! A prince in shining armor, and I’m the princess.” She explained enthusiastically.

Waxer bowed, “What do you require of me your highness?” He asked, matching the little girl's playful tone. She smiled and reached both her arms up to him, “Carry me to safety from the evil droids!” Her tone is still playful and lighthearted.

Waxer couldn’t help but smile at her innocence and playful nature and decided to play along. He swooped her up in his arms and swung her around, the action making her burst out into excited squeals and laughter. He brought her to rest on his side, one arm holding her up. “Where’s home, little’un?” She pointed off to their right and Waxer grabbed his helmet before starting off in that direction.

The little girl had her arms wrapped as far around his shoulders as she could. “I’m my mommy’s princess, is that your princess?” She pointed to the painting of the little Twi’lek girl on his helmet, Numa. He was confused for a moment before coming to a conclusion. Daughter, she meant daughter.

“No, she’s not my princess, but she’s a princess. I helped save her home from droids too,” he explained. “I wish I was as brave as you,” she said, resting her head on his chest, her hair tickling his cheek. “You will be someday, littl’un. Someday.”

Underneath the armor, Waxer was melting. This little girl was so innocent and compassionate, just like Numa. They didn’t deserve to get caught up in this war, they were just children, young and free of blame. They didn’t understand why the galaxy was fighting. Waxer felt for them. He wished he could save every single one and carry them away from danger. Boil had told him that he shouldn’t get too attached but Waxer couldn’t help it, he cared too much.

The youngster directed him down a few more streets until she said they were close. “What’s your name?” She asked suddenly. “I’m Waxer, what’s yours?” He replied.

“Aja!”

Waxer turned and saw a woman come jogging out of a nearby house, she stopped and walked the rest of the way to them. “Aja, I told you not to get in the soldiers' way,” she admonished. “But mom, I wanted to give him my present,” she said, lifting her head from his chest. Waxer was reminded of the flower crown that he had been wearing the entire time. “No worries, ma’am. She isn’t in the way at all, I enjoy her company,” he admitted to Aja’s mother.

Looking at the woman now he could see the resemblance between mother and daughter. They both had the same (h/c) hair, same nose and lips, only Aja’s eyes were a different color, undoubtedly a trait from her father. Her mother was beautiful, younger than he pictured, but radiant, she had a loving aura that seemed to emanate from her.

“Well, I’m glad,” the woman smiled. Her smile was gorgeous, intoxicating, and Waxer found himself smiling too. "Mommy, this is Waxer and he's a hero. He saved all the people," Aja explained. "I know, I saw," her mother said with a smile, "we appreciate the soldiers, don't we?" Aja nodded and rested her head back on his chest.

"I made you dinner, sweetheart. Why don't you go inside, I'll be there in a minute," her mother told.

Waxer set the girl down and she took off into the house. "Thank you for bringing her home," the woman addressed, "She likes to wander around and get into trouble." She offered him her hand, "(Y/n), you're Waxer?"

He shook her hand, "Yes ma'am, pleasure to meet you."

Waxer's cheeks tinged a light pink and the woman smiled, motioning to where her child disappeared through the door of her home. "Apologies if she got in your way. It's hard to keep track of her all by myself with so many other things to do."

"You're all alone?" Waxer questioned.

"Ever since her father died in a mining accident two years ago, yes. It's hard but we get through each day so I don't complain," she smiled. Waxer's heart went out to them. "Why don't you come inside? I've just made dinner, you should join us."

He was a bit stunned. "Uh, no thank you, ma'am-"

"(Y/n)."

"(Y/n), but I should be heading back," he said, "the men are probably missing me."

"Not as much as you're missing some good food I bet," she smirked, "Please, it's the least I can do. All least take some to bring to your men."

Waxer simply looked into her eyes, he was hooked on this woman and he had only just met her! There was something about her that he couldn't pinpoint that had him drawn to her. He couldn't say no, he didn't want to. He wanted to walk into her house and have dinner with her and her daughter and never leave. His mind was telling him it was wrong, but what he wanted in that moment was to fill that missing piece in both their lives.

Ever since Ryloth, since Numa, he has dreamt of one day being a father. Having children of his own with a woman he loved. Settling down somewhere in the mid rim, maybe on a farm or even opening a school. Being able to watch his children be free and play and live without having to worry about war or droids or invasions. He wanted so desperately to give his child what he never had.

"I do think they would love that actually," he finally said. (Y/n) smiled brightly, "Good, come with me." She took his hand in hers and he let her pull him into her home. "Wait right here, I'll get something for you to carry it in."

She left him just inside the door and disappeared into another room. The interior of the home was small, the walls and floor made out of a wood he'd never seen before. The ceiling was low and there were only two chairs and a small table in the center of the room. He had waited a couple minutes until he started hearing a strange whistling noise. He stepped outside and looked around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He felt it before he heard it. The explosion shook the ground, it had landed not far away. Some of the nearby buildings crumbled, pieces falling into the streets. Screams of panicked villagers filled his ears, but one in particular stood out to him. He turned around and saw Aja come running out from the house.

“Waxer!” She screamed as she ran towards him. He kneeled down and caught her in his arms. “Aja, are you alright? Where’s your mother?” The little girl clung to him, her small body shaking with fear. “I don’t know I didn’t see her.” He heard a crash come from inside and a scream, Aja clung tighter to him and buried her head in his neck. Waxer shoved his helmet on his head and swooped Aja up in his arms, running into the house.

“(Y/n)!” He yelled, calling out for her. He made his way into the room he saw her enter and saw her lying on the floor, her leg crushed by a fallen piece of the ceiling. He rushed to her side, setting Aja down next to him. He put his hand to her cheek, beckoning her to come back to consciousness. “(Y/n), come back to me, c’mon.” She groaned in pain slowly tilting her head into his hand and coughing.

“Waxer? Where’s Aja?” She managed to lift her hand and place it on his wrist. “She’s fine, she’s right here,” he assured, “You’re badly injured, I need to get you out of here.” He pushed a button on his vambrace and his comm opened up, “Boil, I need you to come to my location. I have a severely injured civilian that needs medical attention now!” His brother responded, “Right, send me your coordinates, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

More of the house crumbled and shook around them, Aja screamed and latched herself to Waxer’s arm as he sent his location to Boil. “Aja, I need you to stand back, I have to get this debris off her, ok?” He gently pried her off of his arm and moved her back a few feet. He carefully removed the chunks of fallen ceiling and wall. Her leg looked worse than he originally thought, the bone was broken and he could see it poking out through the gash in her calf. He was able to register the sound of running behind him as he took in the sight of her injury.

“Alright I’m here, what do you need me for?” Boil said from behind him. He came to kneel next to Waxer and observed the situation. “She is hurt pretty bad, we need to get her back to the med tent at base.” Waxer motioned for Aja to come over by him, “You take the little one, I’ll take her,” he instructed, he turned to Aja, “you go with Boil, ok. I’ll be right behind you.” She nodded and wrapped her arms around Boil’s neck, he picked her up and waited while Waxer gently lifted the woman into his arms. She yelled out in pain as her injured limb was moved.

The pair of troopers made their way to the middle of the village. “Boil, do you know what’s going on?”

“Apparently, the Seps decided to leave a few tanks behind just in case. The General is taking care of them,” Boil informed. They got the girls to the med tent where the medics began tending to (Y/n)’s leg. She was fading in and out of consciousness and grabbing onto Waxer’s hand whenever she felt pain. He stayed by her side and kept Aja with him until the chaos settled down about 35 minutes later.

~~~~

The 212th stayed on the planet until General Kenobi was 100% sure there was no more threat. It had been three weeks since their arrival and everyday after the attack, Waxer, and occasionally a few of his brothers, came to your house for dinner. (Y/n)’s leg was set although she would have to use a hoverchair to get around until it fully healed. Waxer always helped make dinner and got quite good at cooking, Aja got used to having him around and had a new gift for him every time he came, even making flower crowns for all the brothers he brought with him. Waxer and you got very close, he took you on picnic dates to secluded parts of the valley. He stayed over several nights, stargazing and cuddling until you both fell asleep. It was obvious to pretty much everyone that you two were in love.

It was an emotional day when the 212th were due to leave. All three of you had cried over it the night before, you and Waxer sleeping with Aja in between to comfort her. Now, he stood in front of your house armored up, ready to depart. You were barely managing to hold back tears.

“We’ll miss you,” you sniffed.

“You know how much I’ll miss you,” he agreed. You managed a heartbroken smile. “Aja, come give Waxer the present you made.” The little girl walked out of the house, her eyes glued to the ground. You picked her up and Waxer could see her eyes, bright red and puffy from crying. “I made this for you, to remember me,” she said.

She held out a beaded chain, made with all numbers of bright colors. Waxer took it, looking it over in his hands. “It’s perfect, I’ll keep it forever,” he said. Aja looked up at him and lunged into his arms from yours. He caught her and held her tight to him, hugging her for the last time.

“Please come back soon, daddy,” She cried into his armor. Waxer looked at you and held Aja tighter, his heart breaking even more. “I’ll come back, princess. I promise.” She ran back into the house once he put her down. You fished something out of your pocket.

“I made this,” you held a charm in your hand and put it onto the beaded chain, “to go with, so you never forget me.” His hand flew to your cheek, “I could never forget you.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, a tear escaping through the crease in your eyelids. “Promise me, when the war is over, you’ll come back to be with Aja and me,” you pleaded. “It’ll be the first thing I do,” he assured. You chuckled through your tears, “I think you’ll need to buy a ship first.” He smiled and pulled you into his arms, holding you, never wanting to let go.

“I love you, Waxer.”

“I love you too, (Y/n).”

You pulled back just enough to give him the last kiss you would ever share. Little did you know then, you’d die waiting for him to come back.

#star wars the clone wars #clone trooper waxer #waxer x reader #star wars fanfiction