#taylor swift prompt fics

[firstelevens]

No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?” 

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms. 

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

#sambucky #ok admittedly i lied emma did in fact cheerlead the writing of this and encourage me the whole way but what's new #this is truly just like. the opening half a chapter of this au but I have THOUGHTS #to be clear the rest of it is never getting written unless a miracle occurs #but here have this nonsense on the occasion of bonky's birthday #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics

[spongecakes100]

love/fluff/romance fic prompts that are also taylor swift lyrics

we are alone, just the you and me, up in your room and our slates are clean

i'm on my guard for the rest of the world but with you, i know it's no good

counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy

i left a note on the door with a joke we'd made

i drive down different roads, but they all lead back to you

danced in the kitchen, chased me down through the hallway

just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

i could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets

on the phone as you whisper, do you know how much i miss you?

i'm laughing with my lover, making forts under covers

you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?

i've loved you three summers now, but i want them all

i wake up in the night and watch you breathe

i want your dreary mondays

feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend

all these people think love's for show, but i would die for you in secret

no more keeping score, now i just keep you warm

romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

i'm gonna love you when our hair is turning grey

you're not saying you're in love with me, but you're going to

your past and mine are parallel lines

<3

#otp #otp prompts #romance prompts #fluff prompts #fic prompts #fic prompt #lyric prompts #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics

[a-victorian-girl]

While listening to 'The Moment I Knew' (by Taylor Swift) -and feeling all the sadness and disappointment in her song-, I thought about John.

Because I'm sure he must have felt very similar to Taylor when Sherlock didn't show up to his birthday dinner.

You should've been there Should've burst through the door With that "Baby, I'm right here" smile And it would've felt like A million little shining stars had just aligned And I would've been so happy Christmas lights glisten I've got my eye on the door Just waiting for you to walk in But the time is ticking... (...) And what do you do when the one who means the most to you Is the one who didn't show? You should've been here And I would've been so happy (...) And they're all standing around me singing "Happy birthday to you" But there was one thing missing (...)

@safedistancefrombeingsmart @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitchworld @totallysilvergirl @sabsi221b @jawnscoffee @jobooksncoffee @helloliriels @calaisreno @windyspring @meetinginsamarra @kettykika78 @asherloki @gaylilsherlock @catlock-holmes @sarahthecoat @inevitably-johnlocked @peanitbear @toccata-i-voir @221beloved @chocolate1elise @whatnext2020 @happydistraction @ben-locked @jameshavinganxiety

#sad as fuck #sorry for that #sad birthday #fic prompt #bbc sherlock #sherlock #many happy returns #sherlock bbc #martin freeman #john watson #johnlock #Spotify #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #artists on tumblr #vicky observe #vicky retouch

[jahayla-parker]

Foolish One : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 4.7k wc, angst set to the tale of Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Reader has feelings for Kaz and her wishful thinking results in her suffering from a heartbreaking realization when Inej returns.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, sadness, crying, unrequited? feelings, SoC standard triggers/topics, no happy ending

Y/n stifled her hopeful smile as she knocked on Kaz’s door. Upon hearing his gruff voice express she could enter, y/n took an anxious breath as she turned the doorknob leading to his office. “Morning, Kaz,” y/n greeted sweetly, stepping into his workspace.

Kaz looked up from his desk. While it wasn’t a smile, the edges of his lips did curl up faintly in response to y/n’s greeting. He knew of her feelings towards him. Normally that would mean pushing her away, but since Inej had left them, he’d been trying to be better at these things. As such, Kaz had been working on being warmer and less harsh towards y/n. He figured if he could, maybe he had a chance of one day being in a semi-normal relationship.

Y/n gracefully crossed the room and sat in the chair across the desk from Kaz. She was always careful to respect his boundaries. As such, y/n kept her hands in her lap instead of fiddling with the new set of pens on his desk.

Kaz picked up on y/n’s gaze and a smirk took over his face. “You can play with them if you’d like,” he offered civilly. “There’s no need to drool over pens,” Kaz joked in a monotonous tone.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm rapidly in embarrassment. She gave Kaz a small grateful smile before she reached across the space between them to grab one of the pens. As y/n spun one of the new pens in between her fingers -her eyes scanning the shiny device-, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was a sign from Kaz.

Y/n had developed a crush on her boss -and friend- Kaz Brekker about a year ago. She never acted on it, assuming it was one-sided and fruitless. But, over the last few months, things seemed to change. Kaz was friendlier, more open about things (albeit minor things, but it was still progress), sought her out to help on things she suspected he didn’t actually need her assistance with, and overall made it seem like maybe, just maybe, he was interested in her too. Y/n’s foolish heart clung onto that hope and belief from the very first sign. Now she was in too deep. After all, Kaz was only simply letting y/n play with the pens on his desk, and she was taking it as a small gesture of his affection.

Jesper had tried to keep y/n’s crushing heart more grounded, worrying her feelings towards Kaz wouldn’t end well. While he’d have to admit that he had seen the way the Bastard of the Barrel was softer towards y/n than he was to the other Crows or Dregs, Jesper didn’t want y/n to get her hopes up. He knew Kaz wasn’t capable of being clear about his feelings and didn’t want y/n to get caught up in all of that. He’d seen it happen to himself and Inej already.

Jesper knew y/n was an incredible person, and it wasn’t that he didn’t think she was worthy of Kaz’s attention or romantic interest. Instead, he didn’t think Kaz was worthy of y/n’s affection. Wylan had kept Jesper from interfering with whatever was transpiring between Kaz and y/n as of late. But, that didn’t mean that Jesper didn’t see it and worry about what was going on.

As great as y/n was, Jesper knew she wasn’t the exception. He knew Kaz would never be able to offer y/n what she was looking for, what he and the other Crows knew she deserved. Nevertheless, he saw y/n’s hope lift anytime Kaz showed her any attention or consideration. Jesper tried to warn y/n not to stitch her happiness to someone like Kaz, much less to Kaz’s cold and distant heart; but she didn’t want to hear it.

In fact, even when there were warning signs that something wasn’t right, y/n’s wishful thinking took over and brushed those fears away. For example, in the last few days, she’d been getting less and less from Kaz. Y/n had heard from Inej that she was returning to Ketterdam in the next few days. She knew Kaz was aware of this as well as their group had discussed it the other night over dinner. Yet, instead of connecting the dots between Kaz’s sudden shift in attention and this simultaneously learned fact, y/n ignorantly disregarded it.

Y/n didn’t often fall this hard. In fact, she had started to move past her crush on Kaz until he began treating her as if she had a chance. By now, he’d manage to give y/n just enough attention to keep her hopes too high and block out the voices of reason in her mind. She wasn’t usually known to be foolish, otherwise she’d likely have never been part of the Dregs; much less made a Crow. But, when it came to Kaz, things were different.

No amount of reasoning voices in y/n’s mind could keep her from falling harder and harder for the Bastard of the Barrel. She didn’t need Jesper’s friendly -yet protective- warnings about the situation. Y/n’s own mind had told her all of those same sentiments already. Yet, she nonetheless found herself sinking further into her wishful thinking more every night.

“You can keep that one,” Kaz offered, his rough voice cracking through the thoughts in y/n’s mind.

“Huh?” Y/n mumbled as she tried to refocus on the present moment. “Sorry, what?” She asked, looking up from the pen. Y/n’s eyes met Kaz’s for a brief second before he looked away.

“It’s nothing special,” Kaz muttered casually. “So you can have it,” he said, waving his gloved hand dismissively.

Y/n’s heart flittered with hope at the notion. Even if he claimed it wasn’t special, y/n knew Kaz only offered her the pen because of how she’d been staring at it for so long just now. The fact Kaz was freely offering her something of his, something so new and shiny no less, made y/n’s chest feel warm.

“Oh,” y/n smiled lightly. Truthfully, she didn’t care about the pen. It had merely been where her eyes had chosen to land as she daydreamed about her situation with Kaz. But, she cherished the sentiment from Kaz. “Thank you,” y/n replied, hooking her fingers around the pen tightly.

Y/n sighed to herself as she watched the sun set. She rubbed her arms aggressively with her cold hands in an attempt to stay warm despite the chilly air. Y/n should’ve known she’d be alone tonight. She had invited Kaz to join her, hoping watching the sunset would help him decompress after their failed heist earlier today.

Kaz had agreed to meet her, but didn’t say when he’d be out. As such, y/n had been sitting out here for awhile before the sun began to set. Normally she wouldn’t have waited so long for someone to show up to an agreed upon event. But, Kaz knew how to keep her waiting. In fact, he actually said he’d come tonight. So, even as y/n watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, she told herself maybe something came up that prevented Kaz from joining her like he’d said.

When y/n made it back to the Slat, she quickly learned she was correct; something had come up. Y/n rounded the corner near Kaz’s office and heard Inej’s voice. She was back earlier than expected. Normally this would’ve made y/n happy as it had been awhile since she’d last seen her friend. Only, she could see the agonizing closeness between Inej and Kaz.

It wasn’t just a metaphorical closeness either. Kaz allowed Inej to stand mere inches from him, his gloved hand resting on Inej’s clothed arm. Y/n knew the two had been close friends, or what amounted to a close friendship for someone like Kaz. But, she couldn’t help but feel jealous as she witnessed the two sharing a look as if silently communicating something with just their eyes. As metaphorically and literally close as y/n had gotten to Kaz lately, both achievements were easily outdone by the scene before her.

Y/n went to back up, hoping to quietly flee the scene. Only, her heel smacked into the corner loudly. She winced as Inej and Kaz parted instantly and looked her way. She pasted on a fake smile as Inej grinned upon seeing her.

“Y/n, oh hey!” Inej exclaimed. She stepped away from Kaz and neared her friend, a smile gracing her lips as she did. Inej watched y/n’s eyes flicker to Kaz for a split second before looking away and then back at Inej.

Y/n hugged Inej as she acted like she was fine. It wasn’t the first time she had to seem bulletproof around Kaz. But, this time it hurt more as it involved her friend as well. She didn’t feel like she even had the right to feel this way. Y/n knew she couldn’t call Kaz hers. Yet, these last few months had her thinking one day he’d come around and that maybe, someday, when they were older, the miscommunication and longing was something they would laugh about.

Y/n ignored the way she could feel Kaz’s eyes on her as she greeted Inej with faux enthusiasm. She couldn’t wouldn’t show weakness or sorrow. She didn’t have the right to. And y/n had seemingly misunderstood the connection she felt she and Kaz were forming these last few months. So, she would act as if as if she were fine.

“We need to catch up!” Inej exclaimed, squeezing y/n’s arm lovingly. She slid her hand down until she reached y/n’s palm and then interlaced their fingers. Inej looked over her shoulder as she offered Kaz a soft smile before guiding her friend from the room.

Y/n kept a false smile painted on her lips as she silently walked with Inej. She felt bad for not being super excited to see her friend. But, she couldn’t help it. Kaz had once again given y/n just enough to keep her guessing and waiting, but not enough to know where she truly stood.

Was Kaz interested in y/n? Was he interested in Inej? Saints! Was Kaz even interested in anyone at all? Y/n didn’t know. But the voices of reason in her head kept trying to warn her that something’s really not right. Nonetheless, y/n’s foolish heart allowed her wishful thinking to cloud those warnings. Kaz simply missed Inej. Besides, Kaz and Inej had been friends much longer than Kaz even knew y/n, it made sense that they’d be closer. Surely it didn’t automatically mean anything more than that.

Or at least that’s what y/n’s foolish heart allowed her to believe. Even as she laid on Inej’s bed -the one Kaz left unoccupied even as the Dregs grew in size- listening to her friend catch her up on her adventures, y/n ignored the mention of how Kaz had written Inej multiple times during her trip. Kaz didn’t write or try to communicate with y/n when she’d been gone on a few week long trip for a personal matter. Y/n assumed it was because that just wasn’t Kaz’s thing. But now, it seemed like he was perfectly capable of doing it, he just hadn’t. At least not when it came to y/n. Y/n’s mind screamed at her that Y/n clearly wasn’t the exception to Kaz’s shutdown persona. But once again, she let her foolish heart and wishful thinking mute those voices of reason. Kaz was new to this whole romance thing, that’s likely all it was.

Y/n stuck to that notion even as she laid wide awake in her bed that night. She could faintly hear Kaz talking to Inej, their muffled voices seeping through the old floorboards of the room above hers. While she couldn’t make out what was being said, y/n could tell by her friends’ tones that they were both interested in whatever the discussion was. Y/n could tell they were both too intrigued with the conversation to even consider saying goodnight to her much less keep her company tonight. So, once again, the way she had during various times when Kaz would inexplicably shut her out again for a bit, y/n talked herself to sleep again.

Unable to fall back asleep, y/n rubbed the fatigue from her eyes and rose out of her bed. She’d woken up to yet another nightmare. They weren’t foreign to her at this point, so she knew how to handle it. As such, Y/n groggily tiptoed down to the main level in search of some water and maybe a snack.

In her exhausted and still slightly on edge state, y/n hadn’t paid attention to the fact that there were a faint amber glow showing underneath the door to the kitchen. This meant, she unexpectedly came face to face with the scene on the other side of the door upon sleepily entering the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widened and her hands instinctively lifted up in surrender as she took note of what she’d walked in on.

Inej was standing before Kaz in a tank top, her back to him. Kaz was behind Inej, a wet washcloth in one hand and a needle in the other. Both of Kaz’s hands were uncovered; he’d removed his gloves, for Inej. The slight maroon tint staining the washcloth told y/n that Kaz was attending to a wound on Inej’s back.

Y/n quickly glanced away from her friends, her eyes dashing to the grungy floor beneath her now shaking legs. “I-I.. I’m sorry,” she mumbled bashfully.

“It’s fine y/n/n,” Inej assured her.

Y/n could hear the slight disappointment in Inej’s voice loudly in the otherwise quiet room. It confirmed for y/n that whatever she’d walked in on was as intimate as it had looked. Y/n shook her head, trying to keep her tears away. She could do this, she could act bulletproof. She’d done it countless times now, surely she could do it again now even after witnessing how Kaz had pushed through his boundaries for Inej.

It wasn’t that y/n wasn’t proud of Kaz for being able to tend to someone’s wound, especially without his gloves no less. But, it was only a few days ago when y/n had gotten hurt on their failed heist and had to be patched up by Nina when Kaz refused to even look at her wound. So, seeing he and Inej like this tonight stung y/n more than any physical wound ever had.

As y/n glanced up from the ground, she chose not to look Kaz’s way. She didn’t want to see the indifferent and likely even frustrated look she expected to be on his face at her accidental interruption. “Sorry…” y/n whispered again, giving Inej a remorseful look.

It was the same look Jesper often gave y/n wherever Kaz would give y/n just enough attention to keep her foolish heart hanging on to a thread of hope. She knew what it was like to be in Inej’s position. Theoretically that is, since Inej had only been back a day and was already in a better, more romantically intimate situation with Kaz than y/n had made it to in the last several months. Nonetheless, y/n knew what it was like to be teetering on the edge of what felt like a moment where Kaz just might actually confess his love only for something or someone to interrupt and burst that moment. So even though her heart was breaking with every second she stood there in the kitchen, she still felt for Inej. Kaz wasn’t one to offer such a confession, but he knew how to keep someone on the ropes in search of one.

“Y/n,” Kaz’s voice echoed through the empty kitchen. When y/n’s reluctant gaze landed on him, he offered her his equivalent of a sympathetic expression. “Did you need something?” Kaz asked, making a show of looking at his pocket watch.

Instead of her eyes landing on Kaz’s golden pocket watch -he one she’d gifted him-, y/n’s eyes were focused on the paleness of his bare hands. Kaz had never so much as removed his gloves around y/n unless absolutely necessary. Yet here he was, practically touching Inej with his bare hands in the dimly lit kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Y/n swallowed thickly, hoping to ease the lump in her throat as she willed her eyes away from Kaz’s hands.

“I.. I umm…” y/n mumbled, panicking more when she saw Inej’s unspoken concern as to why she was so nervous. For once, Y/n let the voices of reason in her mind guide her tonight. You are not the exception, she told herself as she steeled her facial expressions. “I had a nightmare, I just came down for some water,” she explained, adding a ridiculously stiff nod as she sidestepped her friends.

“Are you okay?” Inej asked sweetly, moving away from Kaz to check on y/n.

Y/n gripped the glass in her hand tightly to keep from showing how much her hands were shaking from what felt like betrayal. She flicked the handle on and held the glass under the faucet for a few excruciatingly long seconds. “Yes, thank you Inej,” y/n replied shortly, turning the water off. She silently took a few sips of her water as Inej and Kaz watched. “I’m fine,” y/n added, boldly braving a fleeting glance at Kaz.

Y/n gritted her teeth with annoyance as Kaz wore what almost seemed like an attempt at an apologetic expression. She shook her head wordlessly before taking a few more sips of water. Y/n was still excessively thirsty, but every second she spent in the kitchen like this with Inej and Kaz was too much. She quickly dumped the remainder of her glass down the sink and mumbled a hushed goodbye to Inej before quickly departing from the room.

Y/n threw herself onto her bed, the tears bursting through the temporary dams she’d built minutes before. She didn’t even bother wiping them from her face, instead simply letting them cascade down her skin in all directions. By the time her mind had tired enough to let her sleep, her pillow was damp. The dampness only made y/n realize just how thirsty she still was, even more so after having cried for so long. But, she refused to leave her bedroom. While she figured Inej and Kaz likely had left the kitchen by now, y/n didn’t want to risk it.

Y/n wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Inej had only been home for a little over a day now and y/n was already crying herself to sleep. Truly it wasn’t Inej’s fault. Saints, it wasn’t even Kaz’s if y/n was being honest. Jesper and the others had tried to warn y/n about this. Y/n’s own mind tried to warn her about this. But it wasn’t until tonight that she truly started to realize those thoughts might be true.

Y/n knew that Kaz wasn’t a love confession type of person. And as much as she wished for one from him, she believed she’d somewhat accepted that it would never come. In reality, she just hoped to be the exception. Or, at a minimum to get a clear sign from Kaz that he authentically felt the same way y/n did when it came to this situation between them. She was foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d come around. But as she felt her exhausted eyes drifting closed against her damp pillow, the voices of reason in y/n’s head amplified until there were louder than they ever had been before.

Y/n rocked on her heels as she waited for Inej to answer the door. She knocked moments ago, but still hadn’t heard anything from the other side of the door. Y/n looked at the plate of waffles she managed to sneak away from Nina as they grew colder on the plate in her hands. She leaned her ear up against the door to listen carefully for any sign Inej had heard her. Only, the door creaked open from the pressure of y/n’s head resting against it.

Y/n cautiously pushed Inej’s bedroom door open the rest of the way. She quickly examined the room, promptly noting that Inej wasn’t there. Nothing seemed out of place or as if something bad had happened. So, y/n figured her friend had ventured out for an early morning walk along the rooftops of the Barrel.

Y/n sighed softly to herself as she set the plate of waffles down on the ratty desk by Inej’s window. That’s when she saw something was out of place. On Inej’s windowsill, there was… a handpicked collection of y/f/f. While it struck y/n as peculiar, the writing on the minuscule note tucked into their stems made her freeze in place.

There wasn’t any explicit confession of love for Inej on the note, but y/n would know that handwriting anywhere. She blinked through her now watery eyes as she re-read the note again. “The Crows are glad to have you back,” y/n whispered, her lip trembling. It was Kaz’s writing and the flowers and note were as much of a love confession as one could expect from Kaz.

Y/n’s cheeks dampened with tears as she hastily exited Inej’s room. She couldn’t believe it. Kaz had actually given someone flowers. He’d actually even seemingly utilized his Barrel-learned skills to sneak into someone’s room to do so.

But the worst part for y/n wasn’t any of that. It wasn’t even the indirect note Kaz had written to Inej. Although, that hurt too as y/n could easily read past his words and how he tried to cover up his own emotions. She could see the note for what it was. And Kaz had never said nor written anything of the sort to y/n.

Yet, it was the specific type of flowers Kaz chose that served as the final blow. The fact Kaz picked y/f/f to gift Inej was the kill shot, the bullet that pierced through y/n’s façade of a bulletproof heart and erupted once it made contact with her soul. After all, it was less than a full 24 hours ago when Kaz had asked y/n what the best type of flowers were.

Y/n had foolishly let herself read that inquisition as a sign. Her wishful thinking also had her momentarily believing that the fact Kaz had remembered it enough to bring it up in a later conversation with her was proof he cared enough about y/n to not just ask questions and listen to her response, but to actually memorize her answers, her likes and dislikes, her favorite things; her favorite type of flowers. If y/n was honest with herself, she’d even been foolish enough to think Kaz might one day get some y/f/f for her. In fact in her mind, y/n had foolishly seen it play out the way it seemingly had in real life to Inej; a vague note -not directly confessing Kaz’s feelings but enough to make her feel loved, her favorite flowers making her realize he cared about her interests and took time to show it -even if he tried to cover it up as to not be too vulnerable, the flowers and indirect love note left casually for her in her room unsigned and unannounced.

That’s what made it hurt so much, y/n hadn’t gotten kaz so terribly wrong. She just wasn’t the exception. Y/n hadn’t learned her lesson in time to prevent her foolish heart from shattering into an infinite number of tiny shards. She should’ve walked out a long time ago. She should’ve listened to her friends’ warnings and her own internal voice of reason. Y/n should’ve never expected anything from Kaz. She should’ve known that even though she made headway, she’d never be Inej. And she’d never get his heart.

Y/n only made it a few steps before she felt her miserable body crumpling towards the floor. She let gravity slide her down the wall just outside of her bedroom, her right shoulder grazing the corner of the doorframe. Y/N’s head dropped into her shaking hands as more tears poured from her tired eyes. “How could I not see the signs?" She sobbed quietly, her nails poking the skin on her forehead as she shook.

Y/n had been a stepping stone, a lesson, a pointless heist one uses to gauge their ability and the threats the real heist would entail, and nothing more. She wasn’t Kaz’s exception. Inej was. Inej always had been. As far back as y/n could remember, Inej was the exception. Yet somehow while Inej was away, y/n had let herself believe it was her; that maybe y/n was the exception. When in reality, Kaz had been trying to better himself for her; for Inej. Kaz’s exception was Inej; not y/n. The love confession from Kaz was never going to come. Not even in a Kaz-like manner. Not to y/n at least. Inej was the one who got Kaz, the one who he wanted by his side and maybe one day on his arm, donning his ring on her left hand. Not y/n.

Y/n had finally learned her lesson, but in the most painful way possible. Instead of walking out when she first started getting mixed signals from Kaz, she’d stuck it out. She held out thinking he was the one. Thinking she’d be the one to be able to get through to him. But she wasn’t.

Y/n learned the hard way that she wasn’t the exception, Inej was. And somehow, y/n now had to act as if her foolish heart hadn’t ever lead her astray. That she never had fallen for her friend and boss. That she never once believed her wishful thinking was anything more than that. Y/n cared deeply for Inej and so, she’d have to keep these painful lessons to herself.

Epilogue:

“Oh,” Jesper sighed heavily, sharing a knowing look with Wylan. He frowned and slid out of his boyfriend’s embrace as he slowly made his way to y/n’s broken form. Jesper slid his back down the wall to the left of y/n, resting his head in her shoulder.

Wylan gazed lovingly at Jesper for a moment before joining him and y/n. He sat on the other side of y/n, in front of her door. “Are you okay?” He asked rhetorically. It was obvious from her red eyes, tangled hair, and chapped lips that she was wanting but okay. Yet, Wylan didn’t know how else to see if she was okay talking about it without making it worse. He suspected mentioning Kaz would only drive the knife in further.

“I’m so….,” y/n whimpered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sniffled and shook her head. “How could I not see the signs?” Y/n whined again. “I actually let myself be foolish enough to think that one day…,” she trailed off as more tears left her eyes.

Jesper sighed sympathetically, intertwining y/n’s fingers with his own. “He doesn’t deserve you,” He declared. “It’s not foolish to want someone to shout from the rooftop their feelings for you,” Jesper encouraged, “he just isn’t the one.”

“Or,” y/n’s voice cracked, “maybe I… maybe it was wishful thinking to believe I would ever earn someone’s confessions of love”. She wiped her wet face on the fabric covering her shoulder since both boys were holding one of her hands.

“The day is gonna come for your confessions of love,” Wylan encouraged with a sweet smile. “Don’t give up hope just because he wasn’t the one,” he added quietly.

Jesper smiled at Wylan and nodded in agreement. “Exactly!” He exclaimed, tenderly nudging y/n’s shoulder. “When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one,” Jesper told her.

Y/n nodded quietly. She appreciated what her friends were trying to do, but she could still feel her heart breaking. They weren’t wrong, Kaz wasn’t the one, not for her anyways. That much y/n had learned the hard way. But, it didn’t erase the pain in her chest and the self blame echoing in her mind. Hopefully time would.

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[witchy-aunt]

You're on your own, kid [TEASER]

Sam Winchester x Fem reader, song based fic, angsty/fluffy, Bobby SInger's daughter reader, brief mentions of alcohol and abusive behavior (John Winchester hate club)

THIS HAS NOT YET BEEN PROOFREAD THIS IS JUST A TEASER!

Summer went away, still the yearning stays..

You remembered those summers well, the ones where Sam and his older brother Dean would be dropped off at your dad, Bobby’s house. The first time you met those boys you remembered how nervous you felt. Growing up you didn’t have much friends, especially not ones who could ever understand you, the things you knew, and the things you felt. You remembered the nights you’d sneak away with the boys while your dad was asleep to sneak beers and talk, ‘course you and Sam had been the apprehensive ones, Dean coaxing you two by calling you two ‘chicken shit’, and so you did it, you snuck out, and you drank, and you felt like normal kids for awhile. There were other times though, when you and Sam went alone. You two were much more dreamy than Dean. You two could sit outside of the house, and stare up at the night sky without even talking. You remembered the way you’d tilt you head to look at Sam when you thought he was so distracted by the constellations, and his own thoughts, and just stare at him, the slope of his nose, even the shaggy overgrown bangs that fell over his forehead, taking in every last detail you could of curvature of his face. You didn’t know what it was then, that feeling, that yearning.

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[sesamestreep]

50 jyn/cassian? 👀

50. the hands of fate (from this prompt list)

After such a crushing defeat, Cassian decides that what he and his teammates really need is another round, and since everyone else is still arguing over the finer points of the last question, he decides it’s up to him to make that happen. Luckily, the bar is not particularly crowded at that moment, so he’s able to get the attention of the bartender right away.

“What can I get for you?” she asks, leaning slightly across the bar to hear him better.

It takes him a minute to remember why he’s there, because he’s been doing trivia at this bar for the last few months and he’s never seen this bartender before, which is only notable because she’s exceptionally pretty. She’s got bright green eyes, and hair that manages to be messy in a way he suspects might actually be fashionable, and she’s wearing a black tank top that shows off some very cool-looking tattoos on her biceps. The usual Thursday night bartender barely even looks at him when she takes his order, let alone going so far as to actually speak to him in full sentences.

“Did you want to order something?” she asks, warily, and her expression shutters in the way of an experienced customer service professional who’s used to dealing with drunk people and skeevy men with alarming frequency.

Cassian shakes his head, as if to clear his mind so he doesn’t (rightfully) earn this bartender’s wrath by staring for another minute. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, adopting what he hopes is a genial expression. “We just got our asses handed to us at trivia, so my cognitive function hasn’t fully returned yet.”

The bartender offers him a half-smile at that and nods. “Take your time.”

“Uh, I think I’m just going to get another round for everyone,” Cassian says, and then rattles off his team’s drink orders. The bartender nods and, even though she doesn’t stop to write it down, he has a feeling she’s got it memorized.

She starts making a drink in front of him, and only looks up a moment later when she realizes he’s still there. “I can bring them over when I’m done,” she says, pointing her chin in the direction of his table while her hands are occupied pouring vodka into a cocktail shaker.

“Oh, right,” Cassian says, stupidly. “That would be great. I, uh, already mentioned my brain’s not working, right?”

She laughs a little, which feels sort of like a victory, and shakes her head. “Must have been a tough loss.”

“We came this close to winning for once!” he can’t help griping. “But no one on my team knew the names of the three Fates in Greek mythology.”

The bartender tosses the shaker from side to side in a practiced motion, and gives him a barely interested look. “You mean, the Moirai?” she asks.

Cassian barely stops himself from gaping at her. “I, uh, think they wanted the individual names, actually.”

“Oh, so like Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, then?”

“Jesus, do you write the questions?”

She smiles and pulls a glass out from under the counter. “No,” she says, as she deftly pours the contents of the shaker into the glass. “I just went through a very intense Greek mythology phase when I was a kid.”

“Thank god. I was beginning to think I was just stupid!”

“The two ideas are not mutually exclusive,” she replies, breezily, as she tosses an olive into the drink. “I’ll bring your drinks right over, unless you want me to keep talking to you about mythology.”

There actually isn’t anything Cassian wants more at the moment, but he’s already lost so much dignity at trivia that he can’t afford to lose anymore getting shut down by this beautiful bartender, so he nods and thanks her before he heads back to his table. Bodhi has finally stopped reading Wikipedia on his phone (a time-honored post-loss tradition for them) and is sitting with his head resting on Taidu’s shoulder. Melshi, on the other side of the table, is slumped in his chair, staring into the dregs of his beer.

“Another round incoming,” he says, clapping Melshi on the shoulder.

“Thank god,” Melshi replies, sitting up.

“We are bad at trivia,” Bodhi proclaims, which is also a time-honored tradition.

“We did better this time,” Taidu counters.

“Yeah, but we still lost.”

“Progress over perfection.”

“Stop being reasonable,” Melshi groans. “The wound is still too fresh.”

“You know what’s great for treating wounds?” a voice over Cassian’s shoulder asks. “Alcohol!”

The beautiful bartender appears then, with their drinks on a small tray and starts depositing them on the table, where Taidu immediately helps divvy them up to their respective recipients.

“What are you doing here?” Bodhi asks her, which seems like an odd response. Cassian looks between the two of them, puzzled.

“I told you I was working tonight,” the bartender replies, resting the now-empty tray on her hip.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I sent you a text!”

“Oh,” Taidu says. “That was your first mistake. He never reads his texts.”

“Shut up,” Bodhi says, thumping him lightly on the shoulder. “I read texts! I even reply to them! I am a functional person!”

Taidu and the bartender scoff at the same time, and Cassian is definitely missing something.

“So, why are you working tonight?” Bodhi asks, before Cassian can figure out a way to ask what’s going on without seeming rude. “I mean, I read your text, for sure, but like…remind me?”

“Kennel no-call, no-showed and Baze asked me to fill in.”

“What?! Tell me everything!”

“I just did. She didn’t call out or give notice so I have no idea what happened.”

“Okay, that’s more boring than I expected,” Bodhi says, sounding disappointed. “I always thought she’d get fired for coming after you with a knife or something.”

“You and me both, buddy,” the bartender says.

“Kennel is the usual Thursday night bartender?” Taidu asks, speaking for all of them.

“Yeah,” Bodhi says. “She’s fucking nuts.”

“Good riddance,” she agrees. Then, she turns her attention to Cassian, pointing at him with her elbow. “I put the drinks on your tab, by the way.”

Cassian blinks at her in surprise. “Oh, right. Yeah. Good. Did I—sorry, I don’t think I gave you my name, so…”

“No, but I know Bodhi, which means I also know Taidu, naturally, and I’ve met Melshi before, so I guessed you were probably Bodhi’s other co-worker, Cassian, who he does trivia with but whom I’ve never met and there was a card with that name behind the bar, so…”

“Okay, seriously, are you some kind of savant or something? Between this and knowing all of the trivia answers…”

She smiles. “I have the distinct advantage of being more sober than almost everyone in the room, which gives the impression of genius where there is none.”

“Bodhi, you didn’t tell Cassian your roommate worked here, did you?” Taidu asks suddenly, sounding amused.

Bodhi smacks himself on the forehead. “She doesn’t normally work Thursdays,” he admits, miserably, before looking up. “Cassian, this is my roommate, Jyn. She works here.”

“Jyn. Right,” Cassian says, feeling some puzzle pieces slot into place. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet.”

“Same,” she says, extending a hand for him to shake and giving him a mysterious smile. “Though Bodhi did say you were the ringer on the trivia team, and you didn’t even know the names of the Moirai.”

“Cassian is the ringer,” Melshi says, “which just goes to show how terrible the rest of us are.”

“I think Kay was technically our ringer,” Cassian replies.

“Until he got perma-banned,” Bodhi adds, dejectedly.

“Kay?” Jyn asks. 

“My roommate,” Cassian specifies. “It was for the best, he argued with the host too much.”

“Oh, that guy,” she says, nodding. “Baze and Chirrut have his picture hung up in the office. We throw darts at it, uh, lovingly.”

Cassian waves away the sheepish look she gives him. “I live with him. I understand the impulse. Anyway, that’s how Taidu ended up joining us.”

“Lucky them,” he says, raising his glass in a mock toast. “I know nothing, it turns out.”

“I mean, if they ever need someone to answer a question about the intricacies of Formula 1, you’re their man,” Jyn says.

“Taidu watches a lot of F1 at our apartment,” Bodhi explains. “He’s trying to get Jyn into it.”

“It’s not nearly violent enough for my tastes,” she says, mildly. “Anything else before I go back to the bar? Need me to name all the Argonauts, perhaps?”

“Oh, you’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?” Bodhi asks, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s going to be like the eagle, pecking out Prometheus’s liver every day, only it’ll be me taunting you with Greek mythology facts.”

“Mythological facts, huh?” Melshi asks.

“I’m sorry,” Jyn says, leaning in close. “I have trouble hearing people who’ve never won bar trivia in their lives.”

“You’re right,” he replies, holding his hands up in defeat. “You got us there.”

“Next week,” Cassian says emphatically, “is going to be our week. I’m calling it.”

The pitying look Jyn gives him before she leaves their table does nothing to bolster his confidence—nor does it quell the spark of attraction he felt when he first saw her. He was really hoping the revelation that she’s Bodhi’s roommate might help with that, but no such luck. If anything, he likes her more now; Bodhi has always talked about Jyn in glowing terms and Cassian can see now that she lives up to her reputation. 

He realizes only a little belatedly that he’s been watching her walk away, which feels like a bridge too far, and catches Melshi giving him an unimpressed look. He schools his expression into something overly innocent and Melshi snorts before returning his attention to his beer.

They hang around, replaying their demoralizing defeat for the tenth time and vowing (as always) to do better next time, until their drinks are finished and then everyone gets ready to leave. Melshi heads off for the train with a sardonic salute and Taidu and Bodhi head off in search of a cab, while Cassian lives close enough that he’s just going to walk home. He is already halfway out the door when he realizes he left his credit card at the bar.

He does a heel turn and heads back in, waiting at the least crowded corner of the bar until he can get someone’s attention. He’s seen a few people milling around behind the bar all night, but as far as he can tell Jyn is the only bartender on and she’s the only one there now, which means she’s busy, so he settles in to wait once he catches her eye and she gives him a nod to say she’ll be right with him.

“Sorry about that,” she says, when she finally makes her way over to him around five minutes later. “We’re short-staffed, as you know. I didn’t know Thursdays were this busy!”

“No problem,” Cassian says, signing his receipt and handing it back to her while he pockets his card. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Jyn drums her fingers on the bar as she considers him. “You should know,” she says, after obvious deliberation, “I only date people who win at bar trivia.”

He could not possibly have heard that correctly. “I…what?”

“I think it’s only fair that you know this about me, since you’re making your interest known.”

“I wasn’t—that’s not what—I wasn’t saying I’ve got nowhere to be like that, just that I wasn’t in a hurry! I was not trying to—”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious. It was just an expression!”

She treats him to the most exaggerated, patronizing nod of all time. “Right. And you were absolutely not checking me out earlier.”

“I was not doing that,” Cassian says, and it’s frankly embarrassing how transparent of a lie it is.

“I don’t blame you,” Jyn says, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m very cute.”

“Huh. Now that you mention it…”

She smiles, one of those mysterious, knowing ones he finds so intriguing. “Bodhi did always say he thought you and I would get along if we ever met.”

“Too bad you have such high standards,” he replies, easily. “I could think of a few ways we could get along better.”

“Well, there’s always next week,” she offers.

“You mean, next week when we’re going to win trivia and you’re going to give me your number? That next week?”

Jyn shakes her head, but he can see she’s fighting a smile. “I admire your optimism.”

“Get ready to admire my intellect too,” he says, “when I win bar trivia.”

“Whatever you say, Cassian.”

*

“So,” Cassian says, as he leans up against the bar a week later after trivia has wrapped up, “are you absolutely sure you couldn’t be talked into dating someone much much dumber than you?”

Jyn’s answering laugh, surprised and delighted and unrestrained, makes him feel so much prouder of himself than winning trivia ever could. Not that he knows for sure, of course, never having done the latter, but if he had to guess.

#PHEW OKAY #hi ani I’m so sorry this took me legit six months to write I hope you like it!!! #literally get this away from me I can’t edit it anymore 🫠 #taylor swift song prompts #wovesaxe #ask #writing prompts #rebelcaptain #cassian andor #jyn erso #jyncassian #jyn x cassian #i don’t remember what my most common tag for them is ooooop #rogue one #you can tell Bodhi is my number one boy because I gave him all my ADHD in this fic #also I kinda feel like Jyn and Melshi would get along really well but like specifically in a super bitchy way #if that makes sense #anyway i should have finished editing this like two hours ago BYE #homelywenchsociety #that’s me! #that’s my writing tag don’t worry abt it #my guarantee is that I will finish a prompt you send me it just might need to haunt me for 8 months or more first

[kiddbegins]

Taylor Swift Inspired Prompts | Pt. 1

note: I hope these get the ideas swirling cause I know her lyrics make things turn in my brain. Pleaseee please please tag me if you use them i would love to read them. also please feel free to send me requests with any (and all) of these :)

of course these can be used as general idea prompts or if you want to use them as direct dialogue, enjoy however!

Debut

— When you think happiness, I hope you think that little black dress

— There's no time for tears, I'm just sittin' here planning my revenge

— I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about And she's got everything that I have to live without

— You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray And I stood there loving you and wished them all away

— Nobody ever lets me in

— And no one knows That you cry, but you don't tell anyone

— There's pretty girls on every corner They watch him as he's walking home

— And I should've been there in the back of your mind

— A few years had gone and come around We were sitting at our favorite spot in town

— Our song is the slamming screen door Sneakin' out late, tapping on your window

— You and I are painting pictures in the sky

— And you can't see me wanting you the way you want her, but you are everything to me

— Why would you wanna take Our love and tear it all apart now?

Fearless

— Begging you please don't go

— Did I say something way to honest make you run and hide?

— It's like a million little stars spelling out your name

— Mr. 'never had to see me cry'

— I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

— I said leave but all I really want is you

— time slows down whenever you're around

— I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell

— If you could see that I'm the onе who understands you

— I can't breathe without you

— And now you're asking me to listen 'Cause it's worked each time before

Speak Now

— You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

— I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild

— this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying i'm sorry for that night

— the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now

— 2am who do you love?

— Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we have

— I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep

— I loved you from the very first day

— And I want you now, wanna need you forever

— We would've been timeless

Red

— Love is a ruthless game

— Losing him was blue like i'd never known

— put your lips close to mine as long as they don't touch

— so casually cruel in the name of being honest

— put my name at the top of your list

— spinning like a girl in a brand new dress

— I think it's strange that you think I'm funny cause he never did

— i just wish you were a better man

— i miss you like it was the very first night

1989

— so hey, let's be friends

— i've been there too a few times

— we were built to fall apart (then fall back together)

— all you had to do was stay

— I wish you knew i'd never forget you as long as I live

— say you'll see me again

— your kiss, my cheek i watched you leave

— didn't they tell us don't rush into things

— coffee at midnight

— please, take me dancing

#writing prompts #writing prompt #writing #fic #writing prompt list #prompt list #prompt lists #taylor swift #taylor swift lyric #taylor swift prompt list #lyric prompt list #taylor swift debut #debut #fearless #speak now #red #1989 #fearless taylors version #speak now taylors version #red taylor's version #1989 taylor's version

[thesistersarcheron]

Can you do cock warming and belly bulge kink for Nessian pls 🥺

Pairing: Nessian Rating: E Word Count: 1.2k Summary: There's no summary because what follows below the cut is pure, plotless filth. Enjoy!

"That's it, sweetheart. Just sit on it, just like that…”

Cassian’s voice was a welcome rumble as Nesta’s head fell back against his shoulder. She breathed deeply, savoring the delicious stretch of his cock splitting her open as she sank down on it. He had one large hand braced against her stomach beneath her dress, spanning the space between her hipbones. The other was clenched into a fist on the wide, cluttered surface of his desk, so tight his knuckles were turning white.

His mouth met her shoulder, dropping a long kiss on it through her gown. They were both still clothed; she hadn’t expected to come across him in his rarely used office in the House of Wind, hadn’t expected to find the messy sable bun atop his head or the clear, sharp focus on his face so damn attractive. She’d made a good show of sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk and writing a letter to Emerie for a while, but he had twirled and twirled and twirled his own pen between his fingers, driving her to distraction.

And then he had started writing something, the strokes as firm as decisive as any slash of his sword, and Nesta’s entire body had heated at the sight.

It hadn’t taken much for his nostrils to flare and the bond to pull tight as he sensed her arousal after that, to draw her behind the desk with a look—an incredulous but satisfied one that said, This is what turns you on, Nes? Really?

To be fair, everything about him turned her on. She had been wet enough when he dragged her onto his lap that they had only needed to push up her skirts and unbutton his pants before she was spread wide around his cock, her legs held open by his.

“Good,” he murmured in her ear. “So good for me when you’re needy like this, aren’t you?”

“Cassian.” His voice was little more than a desperate breath on her lips, and she rocked her hips against him. Cassian groaned, a low, sultry sound that pulsed through her. His hand tightened on her stomach, pulling her harder against him until she could barely move.

“Stop that. I’m busy right now, and I need this done tonight,” he said, his low lover’s voice mixing with the firm, unyielding tone of the general.

Nesta blanched, outrage rising up to meet the steady burn of lust in her veins. Some of the haze of her arousal lifted, and she opened her mouth to speak.

“I gave you what you need for now,” he cut in roughly, a warning in his tone. “You sit right here and enjoy it while I finish up, and then I’ll—”  His teeth grazed her earlobe, and Nesta shivered as he chuckled. “Finish up.”

And then Cassian pressed on her stomach again and—

“Oh, gods.” She could feel him. His cock, his palm, so close together, like they were working together to pin her just where he wanted her. Like he possessed all of her, inside and out, and he knew it. “Oh my— Cassian.”

“Like that, Nes?” he asked when she moaned. He prised one of her hands off the arm of his chair and guided it down, sandwiching it between her stomach and his hand. Gods, fuck, she could feel where he pressed into the deepest part of her, her stomach bulging with the thick length of his cock inside of her. “I love it when I can feel myself inside of you, don’t you?”

Cassian dropped a kiss on her cheek when she nodded. It was the same sort of kiss he gave her before he flew off to meet with Rhys, with the camp lords, sweet and gentle and… well, and almost business-like. It was the sort of kiss he gave her when he had already donned his armor and placed the passionate mate she loved playing with behind his thickest shields. 

“Just sit there and feel it, sweetheart.” His fingers twined with hers, locking them over her stomach. “Be still, and I’ll fuck you when I’m done.”

———

Hours must have passed. Hours, and yet the clock on the mantle over the small hearth indicated that only three-quarters of just one had passed with Nesta stroking their fingers over the bump between her hipbones. Cassian sometimes adjusted them, shifting forward in the seat to read something more closely, splaying his legs wider as Nesta’s wetness dripped down them both, or simply pushing his hips against her to stretch her wider and test her limits as he bumped that bulge against her palm.

Every movement drew a sound from her—a moan, a whine, a whimper. They grew progressively weaker the more and more desperate she became. She would have been embarrassed if his cock hadn’t twitched inside her each time. If his fingers hadn’t tightened on hers.

Nesta could only watch, blinking slowly, as he cleared away everything on his desktop, methodical and neat as any soldier ought to be. But when he lifted her off his cock, the sudden emptiness and the loss of his warmth was so jarring that she gasped, her mind clearing.

“You are so damn good when you want to be,” he murmured. She half-expected him simply to push her forward and bend her over his desk, but he lifted her entirely, spinning her and seating her on the smooth surface instead. “When you want my cock.”

His lips met hers for a messy, rough kiss that was all teeth and tongues. His hands pushed her skirts back up to her waist as he stood, towering over her, and then he was fisting his cock, drawing forty-five minutes of her wetness along the length of it before pushing back into her.

“Yes, hard, like that,” she heard herself saying as he set a bruising pace, her legs wrapping around his waist. Every thrust pressed against the deepest part of her, the one they ever only reached in certain positions if he spent enough time stretching her. It ached sweetly with every pass, so much she could feel it in her throat.

“Give me your hand,” he growled, his wings flaring. He didn’t wait for her to unclench one from either side of the desk; he snatched up the one he wanted and splayed it over her stomach. “Feel me fucking you.”

She could. Every pass pressed her belly and the head of his cock into her hand, and Nesta’s head dropped back as her eyes screwed shut, focusing on that sensation. “Oh, fuck, you’re right there—”

“I could go mad thinking about the way you look like this, Nes.” His teeth bared, and the hand that wasn’t pushing hers into her stomach dropped between her legs, rubbing at her clit as he fucked her harder. “Here, feel…”

He pushed their twined hands down, the pressure on her stomach multiplying the dragging ache in her cunt. Nesta’s breath caught in her throat, and then Cassian drew his finger in a lazy circle around her clit.

The world shattered and fell away as she came, her shaking thighs locking around Cassian’s waist. She heard his voice, loud and insistent, as he followed her over the edge, his hand holding onto hers.

#nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #happy kinkvember i ignored all of my kinktober prompts until tonight #my fics #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #post-acosf #nesta #acotar smut #another taylor swift song title for you all because cassian worships at the altar of nesta and this is false god smut

[lavenderlegends]

(header by @swiftieblink)

1989 (taylor's version) writing prompts (1 of 2)

(part two here) [i didn't see anyone else do this and was inspired by @kiddbegins] welcome to new york (taylor's version) ♡ everybody here was someone else before ♡ like any great love, it keeps you guessing / like any real love, it's ever-changing blank space (taylor's version) ♡ nice to meet you, where you been? ♡ i could show you incredible things / magic, madness, heaven, sin ♡ oh my god, look at that face / you look like my next mistake ♡ rumors fly / and i know you heard about me ♡ let's be friends / i'm dying to see how this one ends ♡ so it's gonna be forever / or it's gonna go down in flames ♡ got a long list of ex-lovers / they'll tell you i'm insane style (taylor's version) ♡ could end in burnin' flames or paradise ♡ i should just tell you to leave 'cause i know exactly where it leads ♡ you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye / and i got that red lip classic thing that you like ♡ i say, 'i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl' / he says, 'what you heard is true, but i can't stop thinkin' about you' ♡ and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt out of the woods (taylor's version) ♡ the rest of the world was black and white / but we were screaming in color ♡ are we out of the woods yet / are we in the clear yet ♡ we were built to fall apart / then fall back together ♡ remember when you hit the brakes too soon / twenty stitches in the hospital room

all you had to do was stay (taylor's version) ♡ people like you always want back / the love they gave away ♡ people like me wanna believe you / when you say you've changed ♡ all you had to do was stay ♡ why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in? ♡ you ended it / you were all i wanted shake it off (taylor's version) ♡ i go on too many dates / but i can't make them stay ♡ i never miss a beat / i'm lightnin' on my feet ♡ i'm dancin' on my own / i make the moves up as i go ♡ my ex-man brought his new girlfriend i wish you would (taylor's version) ♡ it's 2am in your car / windows down, you pass my street / the memories start ♡ you're thinking that i hate you now / 'cause you still don't know what i never said ♡ i wish you would come back / wish i never hung up the phone like i did ♡ i wish you were right here, right now ♡ wish you knew that i miss you too much to be mad anymore bad blood (taylor's version) ♡ 'cause, baby, now we got bad blood / you know it used to be mad love ♡ you made a really deep cut ♡ did you have to ruin what was shiny? / now it's all rusted ♡ did you think we'd be fine? ♡ still got scars on my back from your knife / so don't think it's in the past ♡ these kinda wounds, they last and they last ♡ time can heal, but this won't ♡ it's so sad to think about the good times wildest dreams (taylor's version) ♡ 'let's get out of this down / drive out of the city, away from the crowds' ♡ say you'll remember me / standing in a nice dress / starin' at the sunset, babe ♡ red lips and rosy cheeks / say you'll see me again / even if it's just in your wildest dreams ♡ 'no one has to know what we do' ♡ nothin' lasts forever / but this is gettin' good now ♡ and when we've had our every last kiss / my last request is ♡ someday, when you leave me / i bet these memories follow you around how you get the girl (taylor's version) ♡ say 'it's been a long six months' / and you were too afraid to tell her what you want ♡ i want you for worse or for better / i would wait forever and ever ♡ remind her how it used to be, yeah / of pictures in frames, of kisses on cheeks ♡ tell her how you must have lost your mind, oh / when you left her all alone and never told her why this love (taylor's version) ♡ clear blue water / high tide came and brought you in ♡ this love came back to me ♡ tossing, turning / struggled through the night with someone new ♡ you showed up just in time part two

#taylor swift #writing prompts #writing #writing ideas #prompts #story prompts #fic prompts #prompt list #1989 tv #1989 taylor's version #my prompts #cat swift posts

[firstelevens]

and if yes, then for the taylor swift lyrics prompts: sambucky and nr. 13 and 14 (not necessarily combined, more so you can choose which one you like best or do both, i don’t know :)) 🩵✌️ btw I love, LOVE your sambucky f1 au 🫡

This is part of a canon divergence AU that I'm hoping to write more of this coming year. It just fit the spirit of the prompt, if not the letter of it, so I had to throw a little standalone prologue out there. Hopefully you'll see more of this soon!

13. never called it what it was

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

The voice comes from behind Sam, and he mentally congratulates himself for not jumping out of his skin in surprise. He knows that Bucky almost can’t help how quiet his footsteps are, but if Sam keeps getting snuck up on like this, his blood pressure is going to suffer.

“I know,” says Sam, and leaves it at that. He and Bucky have had this conversation a hundred times in the past two days, and the hundred and first is unlikely to be any different. He keeps his eyes on the lake in front of them and changes the subject. “Pretty sure it’s bad luck for us to see each other right now.”

“Pretty sure that only applies to real weddings,” is Bucky’s quiet reply.

Sam doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he doesn’t. He has the stray thought that they should work on the communication thing, maybe. His parents could have whole conversations in a single look across a room, in one touch of the arm. Sarah and Aaron would tie up the phone line for hours when they were first dating, even Sam and Riley had developed a language entirely their own.

In fairness, Sam thinks, those relationships had all had years to grow, and until forty-eight hours ago, Sam had no idea that he was getting married at all, much less to whom.

Privately, he thinks he might have jinxed it. After a five day period in which he’d re-materialized into existence, fended off an apocalypse, attended a funeral, and watched his best friend disappear to live seventy years of life without him, Sam had been certain that nothing could catch him by surprise anymore.

Then a woman in a crisp pantsuit had appeared at the lakeside property where they were hunkering down, carrying stacks of paperwork and photocopies of birth records from a hundred years ago. She’d sat down in a meeting room and reported to them what she’d discovered five years ago, right before being Snapped out of existence: that Bucky might have been from Brooklyn, but he hadn’t been born there, or anywhere else in America, and that the information had been easy enough to find that Ross’s people were sure to locate it as soon as the motion for a pardon was submitted.

It wasn’t hard to make the leap from there. Calling Bucky’s citizenship into question would be silly, but it would be enough of a distraction that Ross could mire the proceedings in bureaucracy and take Bucky back into custody in the interest of public safety. Sam didn’t imagine it would take too long for the paperwork to suddenly get lost after that, and with it would go any notion of Bucky’s freedom.

He remembered watching the Raft rise up out of the ocean for the first time. His whole life, the water had been home to him, but the desolation of that place had warped it somehow. 

That’s what Sam had been thinking of when he wracked his brain for a solution. That’s what he’d been thinking of when he turned to the lawyer and asked, “Well, what if he was married to an American citizen?”

Bucky, who’d spent the entire meeting until now sitting concerningly still, had suddenly whipped around to look at Sam, eyes wide. He’d felt Rhodey’s eyes on him, too, but the lawyer hadn’t blinked. In a few seconds, she’d sketched out a game plan on a legal pad, laying it out on the conference room table alongside all the other options she’d presented.

The first ‘You don’t have to do this’ had come shortly afterwards. Sam’s response had been the same then as it was now.

He feels Bucky come to stand beside him, his left hand resting on the railing a few inches from Sam’s right. The gold threaded through the vibranium sparkles in the sun, and he has the childish urge to trail his fingers over it.

“I’m disappointed,” says Sam, just to stop himself from reaching out. “I would’ve expected Princess Shuri to make a flashy black-tie addition to your arm for the wedding.”

“She added strobe lights, but they only work when it’s dark,” says Bucky, dry as a bone, and it startles a laugh out of Sam.

“At least we know the reception will be fun.”

Bucky hums in what he assumes is agreement. It’s quiet again for a moment, but he can sense Bucky shifting uncomfortably and he knows that there’s more.

“While, um– while we wait for the strobe lights to kick in, she did make us these.”

A crown of flowers suddenly appears in front of Sam, jasmine and jacaranda woven together with some kind of vine. He gingerly takes it from Bucky’s hand.

“Is…is this traditional? For a Wakandan wedding?”

“No,” comes another voice from behind them, and this time Sam does startle, nearly dropping the crown in the process. They both turn to Princess Shuri, dressed for a wedding and grinning cheekily at them both. “They’re not Wakandan tradition, but they are the kind of thing that Americans do when they get married abroad. I thought it might make the wedding pictures more believable.”

Sam laughs and perches the crown on his head. “You really do think of everything.”

Shuri’s mischievous smile softens. “I’m glad you’ve joined us here, Sam Wilson,” she says. “Nobody else appreciates my foresight.”

“Putting a bluetooth speaker in my arm is not foresight, Shuri,” says Bucky. “It’s just the product of a weird dream you had after staying up for forty hours in your lab.”

“It could be both,” protests the princess, laughing, and Sam can’t help but look over at Bucky, tired of sticking to peripheral glances.

He’s got the flower crown on his head, too, purple and white just like Sam’s is. His suit is a deep burgundy to complement Sam’s rust colored brocade, and Sam can only guess that Bucky received a visit similar to the one that Sam got from Ayo this morning. He’d opened the door to his quarters to find her holding a garment bag. She’d offered it to him and told Sam that she would be honored to see him marry James—it had taken Sam a moment to remember that his husband to be wasn’t actually named after a college mascot from Wisconsin—in the reds of her tribe. Sam, who’d spent the morning missing his family something fierce, had almost been too overwhelmed to thank her. 

Now, he can see that it was a two-pronged attack, and while Sam’s suit fits him pretty well, there’s clearly a tailor in Birnin Zana who had all of Bucky’s measurements stashed away on file somewhere, because the way that that jacket sits on his shoulders and hugs his arms could not possibly happen by accident.

When Sam manages to tear his eyes away, he only barely catches the end of Shuri’s sentence.

“...whenever you are,” she’s saying. “But I can stall, if you two want another moment here.”

“I think we’re good,” says Bucky. “How much time does anyone need to get ready for a fake wedding, anyway?”

Shuri tsks at him. “Perhaps you shouldn’t ask that question to someone who knows how long your spent on your hair this morning.”

Bucky makes a face at her, and Sam’s pretty sure that she blows a raspberry in response, but he’s distracted. Something about Bucky’s words feels wrong, even though all he’s doing is telling the truth.

He can’t get all caught up in that now, though. Instead, Sam turns to the princess. “I’m all ready to go, too.”

“Good!” says Shuri, clapping her hands decisively. “I’ll escort you in, Sam, if you will allow me. Bucky will follow shortly with Ayo.”

Sam tells Shuri that he’d be honored to walk with her and offers her his elbow, which she takes. They start to make their way to where the ceremony will take place, but Sam hesitates for a moment, looking back over his shoulder.

Bucky’s name comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself, and Bucky’s gaze immediately lands on him.

“Yeah?”

It’s not a fake wedding, Sam wants to tell him. You marry someone because you want them to stay and I think you should be able to stay. That’s not fake; that’s as real as anything else.

But he loses his nerve and just taps the flower crown on his head. “Your crown’s crooked. Just so you know.”

“Oh,” says Bucky. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

They look at each other for another beat, and Sam is so sure that Bucky is going to say something, but then he looks away, reaching up to fix his crown, and all Sam can do is let Shuri lead him away.

#sambucky #marriage of convenience fic is just so FUN y'all there's so much room for pining deliciousness #but also nobody ask how many versions of this prologue I wrote #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics #anon you sent this to me in November thank you for your patience #my fic #anonymous

[spongecakes100]

pining/yearning fic prompts that are also taylor swift lyrics

i wonder if he knows he's all i think about at night

you're the only thing i know like the back of my hand

i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

i hear the sound of my own voice asking you to stay

where were you while i'm wondering if i'll ever see you again?

sometimes i wonder when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me?

you've ruined my life by not being mine

i loved you in secret

wanting was enough-- for me, it was enough

my hands are shaking from holding back from you

i don't want you like a best friend

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

his hands around a cold glass make me want to know that body like it's mine

cancelled my plans just in case you'd call

will you call when you're back at school?

i won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

i wait patiently, he's gonna notice me. it's okay, we're the best of friends

why'd you have to lead me on?

you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

#otp #otp prompts #fic prompt #fic prompts #lyric prompts #lyric prompt #taylor swift #taylor swift lyrics #lyric quotes #yearning #mutual pining #pining

[hermanunworthy]

23 with swiftli :]

I Act Like Dead Weight 'Cause I Love You

23. carrying the other one in their arms

from the touch prompts list!

another request for 23 whoa!! not a problem though, i was very happy to write some swiftli (sorry this took longer than i thought anon, i started kinda losing motivation halfway through bc i wasnt liking how it was turning out)

also on ao3!

Taylor Swift is not one to show any sign of weakness. He doesn't complain in the face of hardship, or experience fear in the face of danger. He’s all witty quips, flashy smirks, and cool poses. Nothing fazes him, because he’s the unstoppable hero of this story.

…Lincoln Li-Wilson knows that that’s all just bullshit, though.

He knows that the sweat breaking out on Taylor’s face right now, sticking his hair to his forehead, isn't just for dramatic effect. He isn't Goku in the middle of an intense battle, he’s just walking home from school beside him on the quiet sidewalk. Something’s wrong, but like every other time something is wrong with him, he just won't admit it.

“Tay, you good?” Lincoln knows it’s a futile question, but he can't just not say anything. He’s not just going to silently listen to Taylor’s strained, panting breaths the whole way home.

“Oh, yeah, I'm awesome!” the shorter teen replies in an instant, giving a big grin before jerking his head away sharply to hide a wince. His free hand shoots up to cup his jaw, while the other holds a death grip on his cane, leaning on it heavily with each step.

Lincoln’s brow furrows. He hates seeing his best friend suffering like this. “Tay, it’s okay, it’s just me. We're not at school now, you don't have to act tough.”

“No, Link, don't worry about me,” Taylor tries to reassure him, but his voice is shaky. “There’s nothing to worry about! How was that soccer game yesterday, by the way?”

He’s trying to change the subject, but Lincoln can't let this rest just yet, not until he can get his friend to rest. “I do worry about you, though. I don't like seeing you hurting. It's okay to ask for help, you know?”

Taylor shakes his head a bit too aggressively. “Link, stop. I don't… like making you worry.” His voice is getting whinier, a tell-tale sign for Lincoln that he is becoming deeply upset.

Okay, maybe I should stop pushing him, if it’s only agitating him more. Lincoln knows that Taylor doesn't like to talk about his personal problems, and he knows he should respect that. “Alright. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just care about you, y’know? You're my best friend, of course I worry.”

But then he realizes that the shorter teen is no longer at his side. He whips around and finds him standing about a yard away, hunched over and winded. He looks like he’s barely able to stay standing.

“...Help,” he wheezes out in the tiniest voice.

In a whirlwind of protective energy, Lincoln is coming to his aid, whisking him off his feet and into his arms. He hangs the cane gently on Taylor’s wrist, and then guides his arms up to reach around the taller teen’s shoulders. He makes sure to have him hoisted up high enough to allow him to lean against his body without as much strain.

Despite his claims to be okay, Taylor already has his face smothered in the crook of Lincoln’s neck, whimpering pathetically. He holds him closely, his body pressed against his as much as possible.

Lincoln is happy to support him as much as he needs. “Comfy enough?” he asks with a gentle pat on the back.

Taylor answers with another whine, and then the slightest of nods, and then the words “Better. Tired. Hurts,” mumbled against his skin.

“I know, buddy,” the soccer player murmurs soothingly as he starts to walk forward again, careful not to disturb his friend. “I know. I got you.”

They originally planned to split off at the corner dividing the paths to their respective houses, but Lincoln isn't just going to make his friend walk the rest of the way. He has no problem delivering him directly to the Swift house.

He’s a bit heavy to carry, and the sweaty warmth of his body flush against his is making the trek a bit of a challenge, but there's nothing Lincoln wouldn't do to help his buddy out. Besides, just being able to feel Taylor’s chest moving with slightly steadier breaths now is enough motivation to keep him going.

Along the way, Lincoln hums the tune to some anime opening he’s heard Taylor play for him before. He can't remember what show it’s from, and he’s not great at replicating notes, but he knows that his friend must recognize it enough, because he can feel his lips slowly curling into a content smile against his neck. Or maybe he’s just amused by his failed attempt at humming a song he doesn't know. Or maybe he just appreciates the vibration of the taller teen’s chest as he hums. He knows Taylor finds the purring of cats to be soothing, so maybe it can help simulate that effect.

Taylor nuzzles his friend’s collarbone, fiddling with the back of the collar of his jersey. Much like a cat himself, Lincoln notes, feeling a bit tingly.

When they reach the Swift house, Taylor’s mom rushes to the door the moment she sees her son in Lincoln's arms in the Ring camera. “Oh goodness, oh, Taybie, baby…” She rubs Taylor’s back with her hand, and tries to peel him off of Lincoln. However, her son just groans, clinging to his best friend even tighter.

Cassandra looks up at Lincoln. “Is he alright? Normally he comes right into my arms as soon as he gets home.”

Instead of answering her question, Lincoln asks, “How about we set him on the couch or something?” He needs to make sure Taylor is comfortable before anything else.

They enter the house, but it becomes evident that even now, Taylor still doesn't want to let go of Lincoln. So to compromise, the soccer player sits down on the couch and allows the shorter teen to settle into his lap, positioning him so that he can lay down properly without further hurting himself.

Taylor makes a few strained noises, but Lincoln just strokes his fingers through his sweaty hair, practically petting him. “It’s okay, buddy. You're home.” He gazes down at his friend’s cringing expression, hoping the muscles in his face will loosen.

Cassandra stands across from them, a little amazed by this kid’s insistence on comforting her son. “...You really care about him, huh?”

Lincoln feels a warmth in his chest, and he finds it hard to meet her eye. “Yeah… Yeah, I do.”

She sighs. “I'm really glad he has a friend like you. I was worried about how he’d be at school today. His chronic pain has been getting worse lately, and it certainly doesn't help that he also had to get his braces tightened yesterday. My poor boy.” She watches Lincoln’s hand as it moves through Taylor’s hair, the way her son leans his head into his friend’s touch. “Y’know, I really appreciate your help, but are your parents expecting you to be home?”

Oh, yeah. Lincoln has been so caught up in helping Taylor that he’s completely forgotten about his dads wanting him to be home on time. He goes to reach for his phone in his pocket, but as soon as his hand draws away, Taylor peeks his eyes open and grabs his wrist. “Don't… go,” he whimpers, guiding the taller teen’s hand to hold his jaw.

With Taylor holding his hand against his face, Lincoln feels his own heating up. “It’s alright, Tay, I'm not leaving you,” he whispers. He looks back up at Cassandra, and asks in an even quieter voice, “Sorry, could you call my dad Marco for me?”

Taylor’s mom blinks down at her son in concern, and nods. “Of course, hon.”

While she leaves to go make her call in another room, Lincoln returns his full attention to Taylor, who is beginning to snuggle even closer to him, melting in his touch. “Mm… Comfy…"

Lincoln huffs a soft laugh. “You were waiting all day for this, huh?” He remembers the way he wore a brave face during school, even through the pain. So much more pain than he himself could probably ever tolerate, let alone on a daily basis. “You were so strong today... I'm proud of you, but you don't have to always be strong, y’know?”

Taylor makes a lighthearted, drawn-out groaning noise, which rumbles against Lincoln’s hand. “Yeah, I guess…” His voice is still slurred, but now it's hard to tell if it’s from his pain or his comfort. “You’re the strong one.” He plays with the fabric of the soccer player’s jersey. “Tall, strong man. Big hero guy.”

The compliments, coupled with his best friend’s touchiness, is making Lincoln feel light-headed even though he’s just sitting. “You're like a little cat,” he teases, almost wanting to pinch his cheek, but not wanting to hurt him.

Taylor giggles lightly. “I thought you didn't like cats.” He continues to nuzzle his best friend’s hand and knead his shirt.

“Well, I like you,” Lincoln says, as easily as breathing, even though the words make his heart race after they sink in. Like carrying his friend, it’s heavy, but easy.

And Taylor simply settles against his thumping chest, as though confirming for himself the true meaning behind his words. “Cool. I like you too.”

And the two just stay like this for a bit, Lincoln’s heavy heartbeat and Taylor’s strained breathing relaxing together. It's easy. It's comfortable.

By the time Cassandra gets back, she finds that her son has fallen asleep in his best friend’s lap. “Oh–” She lowers her voice. “Lincoln, your dad said you're free to stay as long as you like.”

“Mhm,” Lincoln responds. Good. He doesn't want to leave his boy for a second.

“Do you think– I’d do it myself, but clearly…” She gestures toward the boys’ position. “Do you think you could just carry him up to his bedroom?”

Lincoln’s eyelids feel heavy, but he is more than willing to help out. He slowly, carefully, shuffles to his feet, with Taylor still in his arms.

Cassandra gives him one last thanks, ruffles her son’s hair as gently as she can, and watches as the soccer player sleepily but determinedly climbs up the stairs.

Lincoln glances down at the boy in his arms, studies the peaceful expression on his face, the complete absence of pain or suffering. He feels proud of himself for helping him get there. Even Taylor Swift, the coolest and strongest of protagonists, needs protecting sometimes.

Even a hero needs a hero of their own. And he’s glad to be his.

#touch prompts #swiftli #lincoln li wilson #taylor swift dndads #dndads #dndads fanfiction #dndads fanfic #dndads fic #my fic

[jahayla-parker]

Reparations : Freddy Carter x Reader

Description: Part 3/ Fluffy make-up conclusion to Catastrophic Blues. Angst, breakup, heartbreak, post-breakup, longing, sadness, etc.

Warnings: I advise you re-read (or read) parts 1 and 2/Catastrophic Blues and Hits Different first! Other warnings: reference to warnings of other parts including drinking, Angst, breakup, heartbreak, post-breakup, longing, sadness, vomiting, crying, etc.

Catastrophic Blues Hit(s) Different : Freddy Carter x Reader Mini-Series Masterlist

Freddy’s breath caught in his chest as his tired eyes landed on her. He’d been walking around to clear his mind and was just returning to the apartment complex when the sight of y/h/c y/h/t caught his attention. He willed his now shaky legs to take him to her. His steps were nearly robotic, but he was still getting closer. Perhaps if he showed y/n he was willing to talk, they could work it out. Or at least he’d be able to know if she had moved on by now. That way he’d know if his longing was as one sided and futile as it seemed.

Freddy hesitated in his approach. Maybe it was best not to be the one to initiate the conversation. After all, y/n had asked for space. Approaching her now would not be a way of giving her space.

Freddy was about to turn around and walk away when he caught sight of something peculiar. He squinted and unconsciously took a few more steps towards y/n. She had emptied her garbage into the dumpster, but only tissues seemed to come out of it. Had she been crying? Thanks to his unconscious approach, he was able to see the trail of dried tear streaks on her cheeks from here. She had been crying. In fact, now that Freddy’s focus shifted off of if he should approach her and onto whether or not she was okay, he noticed several other details he hadn’t before. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun but was clearly tangled. Her lips were present in a frown. Her eyes were bloodshot. And the shirt she had on… He recognized that shirt. It was his shirt.

Freddy wasn’t even aware he’d made his way over to y/n until he heard himself speaking. “Is that my shirt?” He asked quietly, his eyes scanning her. What was she doing in his shirt? And why did it seem like she’d been crying? Were the two related?

Y/n gasped and spun quickly, her hip smacking the side of the dumpster as she unexpectedly came face-to-face with Freddy. “Oh,” She mumbled. She frantically fumbled around as she tried to clean her face and fix herself somewhat. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone while emptying her trash, much less him. Realizing her attempts were unsuccessful, she bit her bottom lip and stared at her slipper-cladded feet. “Let me go ch-… umm, sorry. Yes, sorry, it is. I’ll go change and set it by the door,” she offered, voice shaking in embarrassment. “Or, uhh, I can wash it for you first if you-“.

Freddy shook his head, brows burrowed. “That’s not why I was asking,” he admitted. He sucked in a painful breath when her eyes looked up and met his. Normally her eyes brought him such comfort and warmth. But the shimmer of unshed tears that were currently present in them broke his heart even further; which he didn’t think was possible.

“W-what?” Y/n squeaked in confusion.

“I don’t want it back,” Freddy explained, shaking his head lightly.

Y/n pursed her lips to keep them from trembling. “Oh, you don’t?” She nodded slowly. “Then… why-?”

“I…,” Freddy mumbled. He nervously licked his bottom lip. “I… I’ve dreamt of this,” he admitted breathily.

Y/n’s eyes widened and she took a tiny step back in surprise. “Y-you’ve dreamt of this?” She asked.

Freddy nodded. “Of seeing you again, yes,” he explained slowly. “Of talking to you, seeing some semblance of us,” he added, waving at his shirt she had on, “yes, I’ve dreamt of this”.

Y/n tried to steady her breathing. She couldn’t believe Freddy was here, talking to her. Much less that he had wanted this. Dreamt of it. Her mind was racing so much she couldn’t respond.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Freddy sighed. “Can I ask you just one question?”

When y/n nodded in acceptance, Freddy took a deep breath. “Why are.. Why did you choose to wear it?” He asked.

Y/n glanced down at Freddy’s shirt. “I.. actually, because I miss you,” she admitted quietly. His silence made her heart beat rapidly in her chest and made her queasy. She quickly spun on her heels to leave.

“Don’t you dare walk away,” Freddy rushed out. He shook his head, eyes pleading. “Not after saying what I have wanted to hear ever since that night,” he murmured.

“You… what?” Y/n paused as she faced him.

Freddy frowned. “Did you think I’d forget about us and just move on?”

Y/n broke eye contact and stared at the dingy dumpster. “I mean… you never came back,” she pointed out.

“I thought you wanted space,” Freddy defended.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” y/n pouted.

Freddy sighed. She had meant it, he knew that much. She didn’t need to lie to him about how she was feeling. “Y/n,” he frowned.

“Okay,” y/n mumbled shyly. “Okay, well I did… but I was wrong,” she argued.

“Y/n, I’m not going to force something upon -,” Freddy began.

“You’re not,” y/n rushed out, shaking her head rapidly.

Freddy looked away, unable to calm himself down while looking into y/n’s far too familiar eyes. “I can’t do this. No more beating around the bush…” He prompted, closing his eyes. “Do you not love me anymore?”

Y/n choked on a deep breath. “Of course I do,” she replied.

“Then we can talk this out, we-“ Freddy began to beg.

“F-Freddy, do you?” Y/n asked, cutting him off frantically.

“What?” Freddy questioned.

Y/n timidly met Freddy’s gaze. “Do… do you think you can love me again?” She wondered.

A small smile formed on Freddy’s lips. “Again would imply that I stopped.” Seeing y/n’s silent uncertainty, he hummed. “I never did. I just wanted us to work through this,” he stated.

“Not going to say anything?” Freddy inquired as y/n stood there silently.

“No,” y/n creaked.

Freddy’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Last time I was this scared, I pushed you away and it ended,” y/n rushed out, looking away from Freddy.

“W-what?” Freddy mumbled, tilting his head to try and see y/n’s eyes.

“But, I also can’t risk agreeing only to have you leave again,” y/n rambled anxiously.

“Y/n,” Freddy cooed, “stop, go back”. He sighed softly. “What do you mean you pushed me away because you were scared …?”

“I …,” y/n cried. “Freddy,” she whispered, voice breaking.

“Can I…?” Freddy asked vaguely as he held his arms out in the shape of a hug.

“Yes,” y/n nodded. “P-please,” she whimpered, stepping closer to Freddy.

Freddy immediately closed the distance between then and took y/n into his embrace. Bloody hell, how long had he been waiting for this moment? He smiled lightly to himself when he heard her drop her garbage can to the ground as she gently rested her head on his chest.

“You were scared?” Freddy whispered in y/n’s ear. He frowned in concern when she nodded against his sternum. “About what? About living with me?” He inquired. When she simply nodded again in response, he carefully leaned back so he could look into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, we don’t have to-,” Freddy began to offer.

“No, I-,” y/n gushed. She shook her head and bit into her bottom lip. “Freddy,” she sighed, “it wasn’t that I didn’t want to… it’s just.. I was… s-s…”

“Scared?” Freddy finished for y/n. As she nodded and continued to stare at her feet, he used his thumb to tenderly tilt her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Of me?” He investigated worriedly.

“No…,” y/n trailed off, her head lightly shaking side to side.

“Then…?” Freddy pressed.

“Of me..,” y/n confessed quietly. She fiddled anxiously with her fingers.

Freddy stood silently for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “W-what?”

“I was sc-scared that if we lived together, I’d become too much,” y/n admitted with a sigh. “That you’d see something that would scare you away. That things would become too real and you’d leave, or-,” she began to ramble.

“Y/n,” Freddy hummed, tenderly taking hold of her hands to stop her fidgeting. “Nothing you could do, say, or show me, could’ve ever made me leave,” he attested.

Y/n nodded hesitantly. “That…That night..,” she mumbled.

Freddy sighed in regret. “I only left because I thought you wanted me to go. That’s the only circumstance in which I’d leave, is if that’s what you wanted,” he defended softly.

Y/n nodded. “I didn’t handle it well,” she acknowledged. “I did need… I needed a moment, but not… not this long,” she told Freddy.

Freddy nodded sympathetically. He hummed and delicately pulled y/n back to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No, I’m s-,” y/n protested.

“Mmm, we could go back and forth for hours,” Freddy hummed. “How about instead, I grab us some y/f/d from the cafe down the street, and we can talk this over more on where we want to go from here?” He suggested nervously.

“I’d love that,” y/n admitted as she smiled softly.

“So would I,” Freddy grinned. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of her head. “It’s a date,” he beamed.

Freddy Carter Taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @alex-kazbrekkersimp @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @el-de-phi @booklover2389 @whistle1whistle

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[acabecca]

Midnights lyric prompt list

1. “you don’t ever say too much”

2. “how the hell did we lose sight of us again?”

3. “i should not be left to my own device”

4. “you wanting me tonight feels impossible”

5. “you’ve got no reason to be afraid”

6. “i never think of him, except on midnights like this”

7. “i don’t remember who i was before you”

8. “don’t get sad, get even”

9. “i made you my world”

10. “i’ll be getting over you my whole life”

11. “karma’s a relaxing thought”

12. “i find myself running home”

13. “i told u none of it was accidental”

tagging some people i don’t mind annoying and also who reblogged the last ones: @sgtbuckyybarnes @katiekinswrites @witchofinterest @ceruleanmusings @starcrossedjedis @eddiemunscns @steveshcrringtons

#writing prompts #song lyric prompts #prompts #prompt list #taylor swift #fic prompts #midnights #BYE I LOVE THIS ALBUM #also this isn’t me coming back to tumblr this is me being whipped for TS and being unable to resist making a prompt list ok #BYE AGAIN #🫡

[sesamestreep]

Taylor Swift prompts: Jyn/Cassian, 35

35. love me like I’m brand new (from this prompt list) Note: completely independent of Zainab's prompt fill from this week expanding her sambucky teachers AU, I was busy writing her a teachers AU for this prompt! Same hat, as usual! I meant to get it finished and published by our friendiversary (this past tuesday) but that didn't quite work out. Still, within a week ain't bad. Cross posted to AO3, if that's more your jam.

“Okay, I’m proposing a new drinking game,” Jyn’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie. “Drink every time the DJ plays a song Cassian doesn’t know.”

Cassian whips his head around, looking for her but doesn’t see her anywhere in the crowded room. It is dark, though. And full of high schoolers who are mostly taller than her. She could be anywhere.

“Where are you?” he asks, into his own walkie-talkie. “I don’t even see you.”

“I am the night,” she replies, in her best Batman impression, which is not very good, honestly.

“We can’t play that drinking game,” Bodhi interjects. “We’ll be dead in under an hour.”

“Hey!”

“No drinking at prom,” Baze replies, bored.

“Wait, when did we make that rule?” Jyn asks.

“You better be joking.”

“I am, don’t worry. I take the safety and security of this event very seriously,” she says. “And I can’t think of anything worse than being drunk around high schoolers.”

“Drunk in front of your parents?” Bodhi suggests.

“That’s me every Christmas, baby!”

“Is this what we’re supposed to be using the walkie-talkies for?” Cassian asks.

“Wow, did you just tattle on me?”

“Chirrut, we’re gonna need a ruling,” Bodhi interjects.

“Ten-four,” Chirrut replies. “Definitely tattling.”

Jyn blows a raspberry directly into her walkie, and Cassian sighs. “I think he meant about the proper use of the radios, Chirrut.”

“Oh, then yes, this is exactly how I envisioned us using them,” he says.

“Best prom ever,” Bodhi says, dryly.

“Speaking of which, who’s in the lead in the flask count?”

“That would be my beloved, with a grand total of 12 so far,” Chirrut says, and Baze makes a point of groaning into the radio because he hates when Chirrut calls him pet names at work. “Followed by Cassian, with 8, and Jyn with 5. Bodhi and I are tied for last with 2 apiece.”

“Actually, Kay is in last place, with negative four thousand because he’s a little bitch who called out sick from chaperone duty at the last minute,” Jyn replies.

“Yes, let the record show Kay is in last place forever,” Chirrut says.

“Amen,” Cassian replies. “What are you doing with all these flasks, anyway?”

“Jyn, don’t you dare say Jungle Juice,” Bodhi says, immediately.

“JUNGLE J—hey!”

“Jungle Juice is never the solution to any problem!”

“You’re right about that,” she says. “Jungle juice is, at best, always just a neat way to go from having one problem to two problems.”

“To actually answer Cassian’s question, we generally just give them over to the central office,” Baze says. “With our report for the night. The administrative team decides what to do with that information afterwards.”

“We’re not really going to nerf these kids for getting rowdy at prom, are we?” Jyn asks. “We’re not even on school grounds.”

“I didn’t realize you were so tender-hearted, Erso.”

“Bite me, Andor! Just for that, I’m taking your second place spot in the Flask Olympics.”

“Flask-Off,” Chirrut replies.

“The Flasked Singer,” Bodhi suggests.

“Flask and you shall receive,” Jyn adds.

“Everyone shut the flask up and get off the walkies,” Baze interrupts. “You’re all giving me a migraine.”

Cassian tucks the radio back in his pocket and returns to his actual job of chaperoning. The students are all dancing to a song that he absolutely does not recognize, though it would require advanced forms of torture to get him to ever admit that to Jyn now. In the middle of the crowd, he spots Rey and Finn, still wearing their cheap plastic crowns from the prom court ceremony and doing some dance that involves windmilling their arms a lot. He shakes his head, and continues his sweep of the room, spotting Bodhi in a far corner and giving him a salute, which Bodhi returns.

“Flask-athalon,” Jyn says, at his elbow and he nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“Where the fuck did you come from?” he asks, not sure how she managed to sneak up on him.

“Bathroom,” she says. “Did you hear my flask joke? I thought of it on the way over, but I don’t want to get on Baze’s bad side.”

“So you chose to instead inflict it on me? What did I ever do?”

“Mean,” she says. “You’re so mean. And now you’re on my bad side. Was it worth it?”

“I’m not scared of your bad side,” he says, and it comes out all stupid and tender by accident. There was meant to be some bravado in there somewhere but he forgot, or he misplaced it, or something.

“They all say that,” Jyn replies, crossing her arms. Hers comes out tender too, probably also by accident. There’s a not-so-hidden but they don’t really mean it at the center of it. He means it, though.

“Everything alright?” he asks, and she frowns, confused. “On your patrol,” he clarifies.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just had to comfort Rose Tico in the ladies’ room.”

“Poor Rose,” Cassian says. She had been in his office a handful of times last semester. Her sister is away at college this year, and she was having trouble adjusting. It seemed like she’d been doing better lately, though. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Well, Finn asked her to prom ages ago, as friends, but now he and Rey are kind of an item, but he still honored his promise to go with her and then he and Rey got voted prom king and queen and Rose had a meltdown that he only went with her as his date out of pity and that he’d rather be here with Rey and…it was a whole thing. Then, Jannah and Kaydel showed up to check on her and I gave them some space to work it all out.”

As if on cue, Rose re-enters the room at that moment, with Jannah grasping one hand and Kaydel holding the other. Cassian watches as they rejoin everyone on the dance floor and as Rey shrieks in delight at seeing them and throws her arms around Rose’s neck. Rose returns the hug, letting go of the other girls, and they sway like that, fully out of time with the music, for a good thirty seconds. Over their shoulders, Jannah and Finn are doing the robot while Kaydel pretends not to know any of them.

“Looks like they smoothed things over,” Cassian says, and Jyn nods, looking pleased.

“Every day. Every single day, I am so glad to not be a teenager anymore,” she says, while surveying the room.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” he replies. “I was such a pain in the ass back then.”

“You’re still a pain in the ass.”

Cassian laughs. “I was a different kind of pain in the ass, then. The worst kind.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she says, softly.

“Good,” he says, smiling. “That means I grew up into the sort of man my mother wanted me to be.”

Jyn doesn’t say anything to that, just watches the crowd of students with an inscrutable expression on her face. It was probably a weird thing to say, here, at prom, but it had just jumped out. She has that effect on him, strangely enough. He has this very stupid urge to be honest with her all the time, to just spit out whatever he’s thinking and feeling and pray that she finds it interesting or at least that it doesn’t scare her away. He’s still not sure what to do with that instinct.

Before he can decide, Bodhi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkies, in stereo, since Jyn and Cassian are standing next to one another. “‘Look on my works, ye mighty and despair,’ suckers,” he says. “Chirrut, please bring my flask count up to four!”

“Four?” Jyn replies, unbelievably quick on the draw with her radio. “You got two off of one kid?!”

“I’m coming for your spot, baby!”

“Oh, it’s on now,” Jyn says, exclusively to Cassian. “I cannot let this kind of insult stand.”

Cassian pulls out his walkie-talkie. “Chirrut, does he get extra points for quoting Percy Shelley while confiscating flasks? Because I feel like maybe he should.”

“Traitor,” Jyn whispers, and then, into her radio, adds, “That’s not in the rules!”

“Agreed. This is purely a numbers game,” Baze replies.

“And Percy Shelley sucks!” Jyn says.

“Hey! Don’t make me come over there!”

“Bodhi doesn’t get extra points for style,” Chirrut interjects, over the radio, “but I am contemplating adding a ‘Best in Show’ category, with this in mind.”

“Wow,” Cassian says, mildly, to Jyn. “Now you can lose twice!”

“That invitation to bite me still stands, you know.”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

Jyn stretches her arms out wide. “I should be on the move. I’m never going to take Baze’s spot if I stand here fucking around with you.”

“You’ll have to take mine first.”

“Oh, honey,” she says, patronizingly. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Y’all,” Bodhi’s voice crackles over the radio again, “I swear these kids are just drinking paint thinner.”

“Ew, did you try the flask?” Jyn asks into her walkie immediately. “If Bodhi gets to drink, we all do.”

“No, you absolute child, I just sniffed it.”

“And?”

“And I think it’s the last thing I’ll ever smell.”

Jyn sticks her tongue out at Cassian in disgust, making him laugh. “Easily half of mine have just been Fireball Whiskey,” he says, to the group.

“Ah, to be young,” Baze says, wistfully.

“You couldn’t pay me to drink that now,” Jyn says, just to him. “Actually, who am I kidding? I’m a public school teacher with student loans. You could pay me to do just about anything.”

“That is good to know,” Cassian says, raising an eyebrow at her suggestively, and she smacks his arm. “What? I have this fence at my place that needs painting and I–”

“First, Percy Shelley and now Mark Twain? Can’t I get a goddamn break around here?”

That is, of course, the moment two students choose to approach them and, naturally, they’re both on his caseload. They laugh nervously at hearing one of the teachers swear, but ultimately just ask Cassian if it’s okay for them to take a photo with him.

“Of course,” he says, straightening his jacket a little awkwardly. 

“I’ll take it, if you like,” Jyn offers, holding out a hand. “I can work wonders with an iPhone.”

The two girls hand over their phones, and Jyn diligently takes a few shots with each of them. After a moment, she says, “Last chance to give Mr. Andor devil horns or bunny ears. Going once…”

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he says, stepping back to let the girls collect their phones from Jyn.

“Thanks, Mr. Andor,” one of them, Leida, says, brightly. “And you, Ms. Erso.”

“No problem,” Jyn says, looking amused.

“I really like your dress, by the way,” the other girl, Maia, adds.

“Oh, thank you,” Jyn replies, looking down at it self-consciously, as they head off. She returns her gaze to Cassian, looking ready to pounce. “What’s it like to have such ardent admirers?”

“Oh, shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes, even though he can feel his face warming up at her teasing. “Both of them are going off to ivy league schools with my help. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it has nothing to do with how handsome you are.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he asks, delighted. “Jyn, I had no idea!”

“Then you’re as blind as Chirrut,” she grumbles, holding her radio up to her mouth. Before he can ask any follow-up questions, she presses the button and asks the group, “Are we tracking how many photos with students we take? Because I hate to admit this, but Cassian might be in the lead.”

“No way,” Bodhi responds. “I’ve taken so many!”

“Were we counting those?” Baze asks. “Chirrut, as master of ceremonies…”

“They’re going to have to start paying me extra to keep track of all these different competitions!” 

“I was kidding!” Jyn exclaims. “Your students have seriously been asking for photos all night?” 

There’s overlapping sounds of agreement from everyone, making Jyn frown. 

“Those bastards,” she grumbles. “I let them eat lunch in my classroom so they don’t get bullied and they don’t even want a photo with me?”

“You see, this is where being a guidance counselor pays off,” Cassian says. “Sure, you need an advanced degree and you don’t make any more money, and you mostly deal with kids having breakdowns about FAFSA in your office all day, but sometimes, at prom, students will ask for a photo with you. That’s why Baze and I are crushing it.”

Jyn snorts. “Yeah, because I never deal with kids crying in the art room,” she says. “And besides, Bodhi is a teacher, just like me, and everyone likes him!”

“He’s an English teacher,” Cassian points out. “He pulls that Dead Poets Society crap with them and lets them recite poems while standing on their desks, or whatever. Of course they like him.”

“And I just teach them how to express themselves through art! Boring!”

“So boring,” he says, even though he sometimes thinks Jyn has the hardest teaching job in the whole school. She’s a photographer by training, but she has to teach every artistic discipline that the school can afford the supplies for. He’s been to her classroom when she’s doing her Senior Project Seminar, which functions like an independent study for the students to choose what they want to make for the semester, and she’ll be critiquing photos with one student, while helping another with a sculpture, and ordering supplies for the kids drawing with charcoal and pastels or painting with oils and watercolors. It makes his head spin just to watch.

“It’s not the dress, is it?” she suddenly asks, anxiously. “I know Maia said it was cute, but she wasn’t being sarcastic, right?”

“No, she—the dress is fine. You look nice.”

Jyn blinks at him, a little surprised, and really, it’s not like he never compliments her. Of course, caught wrong-footed like that, he immediately tries to backtrack. “I mean, it’s a little 90s, but that’s in again, apparently, so you’re good.”

“90s?” she asks, looking slightly insulted. “How is it 90s?”

“I don’t know, it’s just…black and plain. The neckline is kind of…you know…”

“I clearly do not! Didn’t you just say it was fine?”

“It is! There’s nothing wrong with the 90s! It’s not your actual prom dress, is it?”

Jyn gives him a withering look. “No, Cassian, it is not. I didn’t go to prom in the 90s, for one thing. I was in high school in the 2000s.”

“Close enough.”

“And I didn’t go to prom at all for what it’s worth.”

“You didn’t go to prom?”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t look at him. “Does that really surprise you?”

“Did no one ask you?”

She turns on him then. “Why is that your first thought?!”

“Because you said—I meant, because that would surprise me!”

“Sure!”

“I’m serious. I would be shocked, if that was the reason.”

“The reason was I thought dances were stupid and my uncle would have told me it was stupid and my boyfriend was older, so—”

“Ah, makes sense.”

“Don’t—it wasn’t like that.”

“Sounds like it was exactly like that.”

“It wasn’t—he was a nice guy. He would have gone, if I’d asked.”

“But you wanted to smoke weed and pretend to like the movie Fight Club in his basement instead.”

Jyn rolls her eyes again, but he can see she’s also fighting off a smile. “Something like that. Anyway, that was junior year and then…well, I dropped out, so I obviously couldn’t go to my senior prom.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cassian says. “You got your GED instead?”

“Yeah, after a year or two of fucking around and doing nothing with my life, I decided having a high school diploma and maybe a college education might be useful.”

“And boy were you wrong.”

She laughs. “Don’t tell the kids.”

“It’s part of my oath as their guidance counselor, don’t worry.”

“What about you? Did you do the whole prom thing when you were in school?”

Cassian shifts uncomfortably, checking to make sure none of their students are in earshot. “Uh, yeah, you could say that,” he says, once he’s satisfied they won’t be overheard. “I had kind of the typical prom experience, I guess.”

“I genuinely have no idea what that means.”

“It means, I was eighteen when I went to my prom, so I did the whole ‘rent a hotel room afterwards and get laid’ thing with my…girlfriend.”

Jyn covers her mouth with her hands, clearly hiding a laugh. “You did not!”

“I did,” he replies, cringing. “I’m not proud.”

“Is that where the healthy pause before ‘girlfriend’ came from? Shame?”

“It’s…we…” Cassian laughs. It’s been almost twenty years and he still doesn’t know how to explain his relationship with Bix to other people. It would almost be easier if they weren’t still friends, because then he could call her an ex and be done with it. He’s glad they’re still friends, for what it’s worth, it’s just so much more complicated to explain. “She wasn’t exactly my girlfriend.”

“Oh, no…”

“She was my best friend. She still is—one of them, at least.”

“Oh.”

“We went to prom together because, well, no one else asked either of us. And we decided to get a hotel room after because we were eighteen and no one could stop us and we wanted to…”

“Yeah, uh, I know what you wanted to do,” Jyn says, amused.

“It was one of those ‘let’s just get it over with, together’ kind of deals,” he says, feeling hot with embarrassment over his younger self’s antics. Everything feels so urgent and intense when you’re young, but that somehow fades with age. And he admits that even as an adult who’s still frequently urgent and intense. “It seemed like the best way to handle it, at the time.”

“So, you’re telling me that this was…your first time?”

Cassian nods.

“At prom?!”

“After prom! It’s not as bad!”

“By a very slim margin,” Jyn says, clearly taking pity on him. After a moment, she adds, “You said you and this girl are still close?”

“Yeah, we’re still friends. We tried to date afterwards, because it turned out we liked hooking up, but it wasn’t—we worked better as friends, ultimately. We’re still friends. I went to her wedding last year. I mean, I was in it, but that’s because I know her husband too.”

“Wait, Brasso’s wedding?” Jyn asks. He’d shown her and some of the staff pictures after he came back, he’s just now remembering. “You dated Brasso’s wife in high school?!”

“It was obviously before they knew each other. I mean, I introduced them, so…”

“That’s so weird.”

“It’s not that weird.”

“I just don’t have any exes I’m close with still,” she says, shaking her head. “Not close enough to be in their wedding. I mean, goddamn.”

“Bix is barely an ex-girlfriend, at this point. She’s like family.”

“Wow.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t end well with Fight Club guy?” Cassian asks.

“Technically, I think I was the Fight Club guy in that relationship,” she says, with a laugh. “And no, things didn’t end well.”

“Not something you like talking about, I gather.”

“Not really,” she says, looking far-off and sad. It’s possible there are tears in her eyes, or maybe it’s just a trick of the strobing lights coming from the DJ’s booth. “Not at prom, at least,” she adds, with a weak smile.

He smiles back. “Well, I’d offer to dance with you, to help give you the prom experience you never had, but all of these kids have cell phones and a video of us would for sure end up on the internet, which we should probably avoid.”

“Scared of going viral on TikTok with me?” she asks.

“Deeply, deeply scared, yes,” he says, putting his hand on his heart. “My worst nightmare is ending up on Good Morning America being interviewed about a heartwarming video of me that I didn’t know was being taken.”

“But maybe if we got famous, random people would buy supplies for our classrooms,” Jyn says, her enthusiasm clearly faked if the devilish glint in her eye is any indication.

“I’m a guidance counselor,” he says. “I don’t need supplies. I need someone to burn the College Board to the ground.”

“With enough followers on TikTok, we could probably make that happen.”

“Sounds like someone really wants to dance with me,” he quips.

“Well, it might be my last chance.”

The song changes then, to a chorus of coos from a group of students at the edge of the dance floor nearby, and Jyn laughs. Cassian, meanwhile, is sweating. He suspected that a few people knew he was interviewing at another school, but he didn’t want to bring it up to anyone until he was sure of his plans, one way or another. But, apparently, Jyn knows.

“Tell me you at least know who this is,” she says, pointing up to indicate she means the song that’s playing.

“I’ve never heard this song in my life,” he admits, a little breathlessly.

“But you recognize the singer?” she asks. Cassian shakes his head, and she laughs again. “How do you work in a high school and not know who Taylor Swift is?”

“I know who she is,” he objects. “I just don’t recognize her singing voice immediately, I guess.”

“I forgot. You sit in your windowless office and listen to Creed all day.”

“You caught me listening to Creed one time! It is not a habit.”

“Well,” Jyn starts to say, before pausing abruptly as two students pass in front of them. “Hold on, was that—?”

“Hey, guys,” Cassian calls, immediately, and the two boys stop in their tracks. “You’re not allowed to have that here. Hand it over.”

The students clearly take a moment to debate the merits of complying with this order, before one of them reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a flask. He hands it to Cassian with a mumbled apology, which he accepts with a nod and waves them back to the dance. Cassian flips the top open, and tips it in Jyn’s direction.

She sniffs it. “Peach schnapps,” she says. “Classic.”

Cassian retrieves his walkie-talkie. “Got another flask for the count,” he says. “Not sure if it goes to me or Jyn, though.”

“A group effort?” Bodhi asks. “Unheard of.”

“Half a point each?” Jyn suggests.

“I’ll give you each a full point for it,” Chirrut replies. “But please know your spirit of bipartisanship disgusts me to my core.”

“Noted,” Jyn says into her radio. To him, she says, “We should probably spread out. For actual security reasons, but mostly because I refuse to share a medal with you at the end of this thing.”

“Firstly, it’s a secondhand karate trophy for the top prize—”

“Okay, well, now I want it even more, so…”

“Secondly, you’re never going to tie me, let alone beat me—”

“Your confidence will be your downfall, Andor.”

“And lastly, who, uh…who told you I was interviewing for another job?”

She pauses at that, and looks him over. “Mon let it slip,” she says, after much consideration. “It was an accident, she didn’t mean to—”

Cassian waves away her explanation. “I’m sure,” he says. “I’m not upset.”

“She was ranting to me and Bodhi about something to do with the school board and—”

“So, you and Bodhi both know?”

Jyn winces. “Uh, yeah.”

“And Baze knows because I thought it was only fair that I told him I was looking for other jobs…”

“Which means Chirrut knows,” she says, and he laughs. “And I’m sure you told Kay.”

“Yeah, so that….is a lot of people,” Cassian says, weakly.

“It’s not like we’re going to judge you if you don’t get it.”

“I—why would you assume I won’t get the job?”

She blinks, caught off guard. “I don’t! That’s not what I meant. You probably will, but on the off chance you don’t.”

“They made me an offer,” he admits, and watches her deflate.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, then, congratulations?”

“I haven’t accepted yet,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous tic. “They’re going to call me on Monday, so I have until then to decide.”

“Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“Not yet. I’m still…thinking.”

“That’s not like you,” she says, crossing her arms. “You usually have your mind made up on stuff right away. You’re not a ‘last minute’ kind of guy.”

“Well, I’m glad you know what kind of guy I am,” he replies, feeling oddly adversarial. She doesn’t mean anything by it, but still. He doesn’t like hearing himself described as though he’s so predictable.

“Okay,” Jyn says, putting her hands up in surrender. “You don’t want to talk about it. That’s fine.”

“I’m just saying, you don’t know me like that.”

She blinks for a moment at that before she schools her expression into something more neutral. “You’re right,” she says. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re going to do, and you probably won’t even tell me once you decide. You’ll let Mon, or Baze, or whoever, do that, instead.”

“That’s not—!”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she says. “I’m just your co-worker, not your friend, I guess.”

“Jyn…”

“We need to split up, cover more ground.”

He thinks about trying to stop her, but then it would just be a big scene involving two chaperones at prom, which the students would find endlessly intriguing. He doesn’t want to draw that kind of attention, so he nods, solemnly, like this is all very important, and lets her go. Still, he can’t help it that he spends the rest of the night trying to spot her in the crowd as much as he does any actual chaperoning.

*

“The winner of the 3rd Annual Yavin High Senior Prom Flask-athalon–”

“I knew that would catch on,” Jyn interrupts, smugly.

“It’s the only choice,” Bodhi says, grinning.

“Please shut up so we can all go home,” Baze grumbles.

“Yes, listen to your undefeated flask hunting champion, Baze Malbus!” Chirrut announces, with great flair, as he hands over the trophy, which, even in the dim lighting of the parking lot, Cassian can clearly read that the inscription says 'Under 12 Judo Champion'. “Congratulations, my dear!”

“Thank you so much,” Baze says, drily, as he accepts his prize unenthusiastically.

“This is so rigged,” Jyn puts in from the other side of the group. “Baze wins every year.”

“Baze is good at catching teens drinking illegally, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“It’s true,” Baze adds. “It’s on my resume.”

“You know, that would be so weird for any other job,” Bodhi replies. 

“Well, I wish I could give you all trophies for your hard work this evening, but then you wouldn’t learn any important lessons about teamwork or whatever it is that conservatives get mad about when the topic of participation trophies comes up,” Chirrut says, mildly.

“Kids these days,” Jyn says, mockingly shaking her fist. “Not enough of them hate themselves!”

“It’s important to experience as much crushing disappointment and embarrassment as possible before you get out into the real world,” Cassian agrees.

“And experience even more disappointment and embarrassment!” Bodhi adds. “While also paying taxes!”

“Also, there are only so many leftover trophies I can steal from the dojo before they’d notice and fire me,” Chirrut says. 

“On that bright note,” Baze interjects, “let’s all go home. It’s been a long night and absolutely none of us are getting paid any extra to spend more time together.”

“Beautiful sentiment as always, Baze,” Jyn says.

“Thank you again for all your hard work!” Chirrut says, even as Baze grabs him by the elbow and starts gently towing him away in the direction of their car. “Our students are very lucky to have such dedicated teachers and counselors!”

“Thank you, Chirrut!” Bodhi calls after them.

“Drive safe, everybody!” Baze calls over his shoulder once Chirrut stops fighting him and laces their fingers together instead for the short walk.

“Night, guys,” Bodhi says to Jyn and Cassian before he starts to head off towards his own car. 

“Goodnight, Bodhi,” Jyn replies, while Cassian waves him off.

The parking lot is empty except for their cars at this hour. They’d all met at the school and made the ride to the venue together, that way no one could call out of chaperone duty with car trouble or anything last minute like that. Probably there was some team-building aspect, too, but Cassian suspects the former was the primary motivation. Now, it’s creeping up to midnight and all the students have moved on to their afterparties and bonfires and whatever else, while the venue staff has streamers to clean up and tables to clear, and the chaperones are all heading home after a very long day. 

It had rained briefly while the prom was going on, though it had thankfully waited until everyone was already at the venue to do so, which means no one’s photos or hair was likely ruined by it. The hazy humidity that had hung around all day was now replaced by a damp chill and a light breeze. The condensation glitters like jewels on the few cars in the lot and their dewy windows glow green as the streetlights reflect off of them. The wet ground blares with streaks of red light as Baze’s car starts up and his brake lights come on. 

“Where’d you park?” Cassian asks Jyn, who’s still standing there, rooting around in her bag for her car keys.

“Oh,” she says, as if she wasn’t expecting him to address her. “Over there, by the auditorium.”

“Me too,” he says, nodding. “I’ll walk you.”

Having successfully retrieved her keys, Jyn brushes this off. “You don’t have to.”

“It’ll give me a chance to apologize.”

“It’s not that long of a walk.”

“I’ll talk fast,” Cassian replies, and holds out his arm as if to say, after you.

Jyn takes the hint and starts walking, allowing him to fall into step next to her.

“I’m sorry about what I said before, about you not knowing me very well. I didn’t mean to imply we aren’t friends, or that I don’t value your opinions, or anything like that,” he says, letting it all go like an exhale, because otherwise he won’t get the words out at all. “The problem is that I think you know me a little too well sometimes, and it honestly freaks me out. And tonight, you said the exact thing I was already worried about out loud, so I just panicked and tried to push you away.”

“The thing I said about waiting until the last minute really upset you that much?” Jyn asks, arms crossed over her chest. It takes him a second to realize it’s probably because she’s cold, and not because she’s mad at him. He starts to take off his suit jacket, but she stops him with a glare. “God, don’t.”

“You look cold.”

“I am cold, but my car is twenty yards away. I’ll live.”

“Fine.”

“Answer my question.”

Cassian stuffs his hands in his pockets just to have something to do with them. “Yes, it did upset me to hear that. I’ve been annoyed with myself about the same thing and I hated that it was obvious to you too.”

“Well, then, I guess I’m sorry too,” she says, earnestly. “I wasn’t judging you or anything, and I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“I know that. And thank you. I just—I can’t make up my mind what I want to do, and it’s very frustrating.”

“Do you think talking about it would help?”

“I’m not sure. The logical part of my brain is telling me to go, to take the new job. It’s more money, I’d be the head of the department in a better funded school. And while I love it here, unless Baze retires—”

“Which he won’t. At least, not for a long time.”

“Exactly, but still, that’s the only way I can move up and make more money. Unless I go to another school.”

“I get it,” Jyn says, and it sounds like she means it. “Those are valid considerations.”

“But I really do love it here,” Cassian objects. “I love the students, and I love the staff. I love working with all of you.”

“Yeah, and I bet all the teachers at that new school fucking suck,” she adds, with a malicious glint in her eye.

“I mean, what are the chances they do a yearly Flask-athalon at their prom?”

“It’s extremely unlikely,” Jyn says, somber now, “and if they do, they owe me and Chirrut royalties.”

“So, you see my dilemma?”

“I do. And I accept your apology, for what it’s worth. I didn’t know I’d be bringing up such a fraught subject for you. I would have been more careful, if I’d known.”

They arrive at Jyn’s car then and Cassian has to laugh at finding it parked one spot away from his own. The parking lot had been full when he got here, with a lot of underclassmen still around for extracurriculars and team practices and faculty staying late to do work, so he just picked the first spot he found. He hadn’t even noticed her car there, because someone had been parked between them. Now there’s just an empty space, where they stop to finish their conversation.

“It’s really fine,” he says, as he looks over at her. “I overreacted.”

Jyn shrugs one shoulder up to her ear, still looking cold in a way he finds provoking. He really wishes she’d just take his jacket. “It’s a big decision.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know you won’t get rid of us just by going to another school, right?”

“Yes, but we’ll all see each other a lot less,” he says. “And you know how these things go. We’ll promise to stay in touch, or to get drinks, or just to see each other regularly, but we won’t. We’ll drift apart, sooner or later.”

“So, don’t take the job,” Jyn says, watching him carefully.

“What about all that other stuff–the money and the promotion and everything?”

“Who cares?” she says and he laughs, hopelessly. “I’m serious! If you were actually that motivated by money, you wouldn’t work in a public school. You wouldn’t have even gone to school for counseling, for that matter. So, turn it down.”

“But doesn’t that make me…kind of…?”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know! Ridiculous? Sentimental? Turning down more money to stay with my friends?”

“Again, I ask you: who cares?”

“Well, I fancy myself a very cool, detached person.”

Jyn snorts. “You?”

He frowns at her. “Yes, me! You don’t think I’m cool and detached?”

“No,” she says, “not at all. Are you crazy? You’re the least cool person I know!”

“Wow, thank you.”

“I mean, not that you’re not cool like—I’m saying you’re not too cool for anything, you know? Like, you care so much about everything! Even dumb bullshit that no one else can be bothered to even pay attention to, you care about it! I don’t know how you do it. I’m an art teacher, I’m supposed to be all passionate all the time, and I still feel like a robot compared to you. It must be exhausting to care so much.”

“That’s your impression of me?” Cassian asks, a little bowled over.

“I meant all of that as a compliment,” Jyn says, looking nervous. “And I didn’t mean to go on and on about it, I just—you assume everyone is like you, that they’re as good as you and they care as much, and I sometimes think you don’t see that you’re special. It’s the best thing about you, how much you care.”

“And I thought the best thing about me was my eyes,” he responds, weakly.

“Well, you do have nice eyes, that’s true,” she says, looking down at her shoes.

“I do have another reason—a selfish one—for thinking of accepting the new job.”

“What’s that?”

“I think that if there was someone here—someone on the faculty here, I mean—that I maybe wanted to date, it would possibly be less weird for us if I worked at a different school,” he answers, with his heart in his throat.

“Oh,” Jyn says, still not meeting his eye. Her foot scuffs back and forth on the pavement anxiously. “I guess, in that case, you would probably want to be sure that this person is actually interested in you before you make any huge life decisions with her—I mean, them—in mind.”

“I’m pretty sure she is interested in me too.”

“How do you know?”

“She just told me I have nice eyes,” he says. 

Jyn looks at him then, her gaze lifting to his face suddenly as she narrows her eyes. “Seriously? How long have you—?”

It doesn’t take much effort—two steps, really—to get close enough to draw her into his arms and kiss her like he’s been wanting to basically since the day she started at the school. She makes a surprised noise that’s immediately muffled by their mouths coming together and then it’s just them kissing. Finally. And it’s every bit as good as he imagined it would be, with her kissing back with as much intensity as he’d expect from the person who loves to give him hell on a daily basis. Her arms come to wrap around his neck, dragging him down to her level, and his clasp around her lower back, desperately trying to afford them some stability in this position.

“The others are gone, right?” she asks, more or less against his mouth. 

“Uh…” He turns his head, peering across the parking lot, which gives Jyn access to his jaw and his neck and he’s not mad about it, though it does make thinking straight more difficult than usual. He doesn’t see any other cars left. “I think it’s just us.”

“Good,” Jyn says, and pulls him with her by his shirt until her back hits the side of her car. Once settled there, she leans up for another kiss, and he has to brace himself against the door to stay standing. The condensation from the window wets his palm and makes him shiver, which makes Jyn laugh. He doesn’t bother explaining, since he’s not sure he could convince her that it has nothing to do with kissing her.

They make out like idiots, in the parking lot of the school they work at, where anyone could see them, for an inadvisably long time. By the time they come up for air, he has thoroughly ruined Jyn’s hair, the straps of her dress are hanging loosely off her shoulders, and anyone who looked at her would know she’d been doing some very serious kissing. Cassian is sure he’s looking equally disarrayed. Despite them being pressed closely together, he can feel the goosebumps rising on her skin and chafes her arms with his hands to warm them.

“How long?” she asks, softly, wearing an amused smile that might be at his attempt at gallantry or something else entirely. When he gives her a questioning look in response, she adds. “How long have you wanted to do that?”

Cassian pretends to think about it. “How long have you worked here?”

“Two years.”

“There’s your answer.”

“Really?” Jyn asks, astonished somehow. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

“You made me nervous,” he says, still caressing her arms. “You still make me nervous.”

She loops her arms around his middle now, pressing them together in a way that feels very dangerous in a school parking lot. He clears his throat in the most obvious fashion imaginable and she gives him a knowing smile.

“That’s not the only thing you make me, for what it’s worth,” he points out.

“I gathered as much,” she says, pleased with herself. 

He raises a hand to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb gently over the corner of her mouth. “You know, a nice person would say something about how I make them feel, at this point in the conversation.”

“You already got a whole speech about how passionate and sexy you are,” she objects. “Don’t be greedy.”

“I don’t think the word ‘sexy’ came up in that little speech of yours, actually. Could you maybe elaborate on that?”

Jyn shakes her head before she leans in to kiss him again, this time trading their earlier desperation for a slower pace. “Not here,” she says, once she’s drawn him in again. “Not to be corny, but my place or yours?”

“Whichever’s closer,” he says, immediately.

She laughs and bites her lip to try to hide it, which is very distracting. “Good answer. I think that’s me, then.”

“I’ll follow you,” Cassian replies, with a nod towards his own car.

“You don’t want to just ride over with me?”

“I don’t want to park here overnight, and I do not trust myself in a car alone with you right now.”

“It’s a five minute drive,” she says, unimpressed.

“I could get into a lot of trouble in five minutes.”

“Okay, then,” she says, with a gusty sigh. “You might have to put your money where your mouth is on that one.”

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to put my mouth lots of places.”

“Idiot,” she laughs, swatting his arm. “Let’s go, then. I’m freezing and I’m wet.”

“You’re—well, that’s—oh, from the car! And the condensation…from the rain.”

“Wow,” Jyn says. “That was so smooth.”

Cassian laughs, and hangs his head. “In my defense, I—”

“Yes?”

He looks down at her, looking a little flushed and mussed up and still utterly defiant and perfect. “I just can’t believe it took me this long to get here,” he admits, even though it’s a stupid and besotted thing to say. 

Jyn gives him an endearingly sweet smile. “And I can’t believe I’m going to hook up with you after prom. I mean, what a cliché!”

“I did offer to give you the prom experience you never had,” he says, with a laugh. “Besides, some things are cliché for a reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, gazing up at him. “Why’s that?”

He thinks about all the stories he’s heard about love at first sight. He thinks about all the couples he’s heard say they’re in love with their best friend. He thinks about everyone who’s said that, when you’re with The One, you just know. He thinks about every piece of dating advice that told him to find someone who makes him laugh. And he thinks about happily ever after.

“Because they seem stupid until they happen to you,” he says, simply.

Jyn doesn’t bother saying she agrees. She just pulls him in for another kiss.

#truly been agonizing over this for days #the last 200 words were pure torture but we did it besties #rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor #bodhi rook #chirrut imwe #baze malbus #rogue one #rogue one au #jyn x cassian #jyncassian #teachers au #modern au #i literally can't remember how to tag fic anymore rip me #taylor swift song prompts #prompt game #prompt fill #idk i just listened to the song this prompt is from and i was like it's giving me prom vibes #we like to have fun here at birdhapley incorporated #firstelevens #homelywenchsociety

[lokisbiiiitch1993]

I love Taylor Swift and I love Loki - my 2 biggest Obsessions

I made a Taylor Swift Lyrics Prompt List - to celebrate getting Eras Tour Tickets 🎉

my Requests are open :

Check out my Masterlist

I only bought this Dress so you could take it off

I don't want you like a Best friend

We are never, ever, ever getting back together

I never thought we'd have a last kiss, I never imagined we would end like this

Darling, you are the one I want

Can I go where you go?Can we always be this close, forever and ever?

I had a marvelous time ruining everything

I'm damned if I do give a damn what People say

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Darling, I fancy you

I've loved, you three summers ,honey,but I want them all

Show me the places where others gave you scars

That's the kind of Heartbreak Time could never mend

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

If you walk away I would beg you on my knees to stay

You will never have to be alone

You are the best thing that's ever been mine

But now that we're done and it's over, I bet it's hard to believe that it turned out I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

I know I’m probably better off all alone than needing a man who could change his mind at any given minute

I gave to you my best and we both know you can't say that

Hello, Mr. Perfectly Fine, how's your heart after breakin' mine

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

You got your share of secrets, and I'm tired of being last to know

Was it worth it? Was she worth this?

I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

When I left, I wanted you to chase after me

You taught me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me

I've never been anywhere cold as you

If we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you

I never knew I could feel that much

I got one thing stuck in my mind - Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

#taylor swift #taylor swift prompt list #prompt list #taylor swift lyrics #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki headcanons #loki imagines #loki fanfic #loki fic #marvel loki #lokisbiiiitch #loki fluff #loki angst #loki smut