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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

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So Much Like Stars - Part TWO

Pairing: Boba Fett x Female Reader

Part TWO (Read Part One HERE)

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Summary: During a trek through the mountains, you discover new things about both Boba and yourself.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, hand feeding, breathplay, choking kink, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, pool sex (kinda you'll see), unprotected sex, coming inside (do not do this in real life), age difference, dirty talk, spit kink, offscreen oral sex, AFAB reader, safe to read if triggered by pregnancy

Word Count: 10k+

A/N: Major apologies in order for the delay on this one! It's been up on AO3 (here) for a hot minute but it took me a bit longer to get around to posting it here. Anywho... here it is. Let me know what you think! I love to get reblogs/comments/messages so very much. As always, no use of Y/N, and please heed the warnings. <3

The early hours of the following day fly by like ash in the wind.

You and Boba leave as soon as you are able, gathering necessary supplies into packs and preparing for the grueling trek ahead of you. You notify your father of your departure - he is not happy about it, but he learned long ago that he has little sway over the decisions you make.

You also find Boba a cloak that fits over his armor and that doesn't hinder his ability to reach his weapons. It's thick around his neck, which is why you'd insisted he wear it.

He'd stopped complaining once you were about a kilometer out from the village gate.

The howling wind swirls around the two of you, snow and ice collecting on your clothes. The journey is not an easy one, but with Boba's natural strength and your knowledge of the terrain the two of you handle it better than most.

Boba's steps are always audible behind you, even when the air around you seems to be screaming. You appreciate his closeness, because far too often people have been lost and never found because they fell too far behind.

It's easy to become lost in a place like this. Being found tends to be a matter of life and death.

The sheer cliff faces and shifting dunes of snow present the most hazardous challenges on your journey. One single misstep could have either of you tumbling down, and as you walk you only gain elevation, increasing the distance between you and the ground below. It's terrain that you've traversed plenty of times, but you don't know how well-suited Boba is to such harsh elements.

You glance back at your companion when you come to a turn, sheltered from the biting wind and driving snow.

"Faring alright back there?" You have to yell to be heard, but Boba nods.

"I'm doing just fine, princess. Seen worse than this."

You raise your brows, even though he can't see your face through your mask. "If you say so. We'll be on this trail for the rest of today and most of tomorrow. Then we'll turn off and find the source."

There is, of course, the risk of encountering an ongrol. The idea of it looms over your journey like a dark cloud, and you keep alert to any shift in the wind or in the landscape ahead. The constant drone of air around you would typically mask the sound of any movement, but your ears have become attuned to listening for things outside the wind. Footsteps, especially those of a creature larger than yourself, will be obvious. The ongrol are not known for their stealth - if they want to attack, they'll do it with a thunderous leap and a swipe of razor-sharp claws.

You'd been telling the truth when you told Boba it was rare to escape an encounter with one alive. Boba had shown you the fire-blaster on his arm, and the two of you have no shortage of weapons, but still you worry. You keep alert, listening to the world around you.

Though your focus has a tight hold on your mind, you can't help but let your thoughts wander to Boba, and to the events of the previous night.

In all your life, you've never met a man quite like Boba.

Not only did he sense your needs intrinsically, it seemed as though he saw right through you the moment he laid eyes on you. You recall seeing his visor tilt toward you in the meeting room; you hadn't known it then, but now you can imagine what he'd been thinking. Boba saw your presence at that table and immediately knew what kind of girl you are.

It doesn't speak well to your sensibilities as a village leader, if you're being honest with yourself. This is the first foreigner to visit your people, and you let him into your home, between your legs? You suddenly feel rather guilty about it, but a small voice in your head reminds you how good it felt.

How good he felt.

Maker above. Nothing in your life could ever compare to the things he made you feel last night. Armor against skin - ice against fire, rough edges against smooth curves. The smell of him in your nose as he pleasured you, unkempt and raw. The splay of his hands on your hips as he took, and took, and gave you so much in return.

Boba knew exactly how to take you apart. And you'd only met him that day.

You didn't delude yourself into believing this could continue. He does not belong here, and you certainly can't leave. Above all else, your people need you, and to leave the planet would be to abandon them.

You steel your heart into acceptance. You'll enjoy Boba's company for as long as he's here, and then things will return to normal. You'll figure out how to hide the kyber and no one will bother you. Your people will live on in peace.

Whether you will ever find peace after knowing what it is to be with Boba Fett is another matter entirely. But you can't dwell on that, or you might decide to do something drastic.

You let that thought slip from your brain quickly, replacing it with memories of last night. Despite yourself, you smile beneath your mask, surely blushing as well. Though your steps forward are certain and sure, your center heats up at the thought of his hand around your throat, of his thick cock moving wickedly inside you.

From the depths of your mind float up a few words he'd said, a phrase you'd forgotten until just now.

Come for your king.

Odd, his choice of wording. It sends a shiver down your spine, but then you give it a moment of thought. Surely he didn't mean king in the context of you, of your village - that wouldn't make any sense. But then again, he couldn't mean --

You furrow your brow. Yes, it was the heat of the moment, but he still said it.

There's a possibility of something more there, something much more than just a bounty hunter in search of a handful of credits and some relief for the night. You remember how he'd asked if you knew his name, like he'd expected you to.

Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?

Boba Fett. No, you have no knowledge of that name outside the armored man trekking behind you.

Who is he?

You frown, but decide to keep your questions to yourself for now. You're nothing if not careful - keeping your cards close to your chest is a skill you've more than mastered.

Boba Fett, no matter who he is, will be none the wiser to your doubts.

That night, once darkness begins to envelop the air around you, you lead Boba to a small, secluded, empty cave safe from the cold wind. There's a dark scorch mark on the ground, evidence of a past campfire.

"I've used this cave a number of times," you explain as you take off your pack, setting it on the ground with a groan. The weight on your shoulders never gets lighter. "The cold shouldn't reach us here, especially once we get a fire going."

Boba hums, unrolling his bedroll, which is a collection of mats and blankets identical to yours. "I know a few other ways we could stay warm, princess."

You look over at him. His back is turned to you, large and imposing in the dim light.

"Do you?" you ask, light with a hint of a sly smile in your voice. You lean your staff against the cave wall and crouch to begin extracting your own bedroll.

Behind you, you hear a gruff chuckle. The deep, rumbling sound of it makes your breath hitch. Boba Fett may be an enigma to you, but that doesn't mean you feel any less strongly for him now than you did last night.

In fact, the close quarters of this cave mean his words are more than just teasing.

You turn and spread your bedroll out beside the spot where you'll set up the fire, and you see that Boba has set his up so that it's perpendicular to yours, the corners overlapping.

Next you take out the meat and bread you brought along, as well as flint, some firestarter, and a few bricks of coal that will burn through the night. You prop yourself on your knees to get the fire started, and once the flames have sprung to life, you lean forward to set up the small spit to cook your meal.

You're just arranging the cut of meat on the metal spike when you feel movement behind you. The fire beneath you is searing, so hot that when you feel hands on your hips, you lean back into them to escape the heat.

Boba's hands grip your hips tighter and you yelp as he drags you backwards. His fingers land on your thigh, grasping at and arranging you until your back is flush with his chest. Your legs are tucked in between his, which are spread out in front of the two of you.

You look up at him. You're seated in his lap, but the layers of clothes and metal between you prevent you from feeling anything distinct.

He reaches a hand up to tug at your face mask.

"Let me see you," he murmurs.

You let him remove the cloth covering your mouth and nose, and then he slides your goggles off of your face. You're sure you've got marks around your eyes from wearing them for so long, but Boba doesn't seem to mind.

In return, you place your hands on the bottom of his helmet, fingers curling under. He allows you to press the small latch beneath your index finger and slide his helmet off, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your face as soon as you can see his mouth.

You lift Boba's helmet all the way off and set it to the side. He puts a hand on your waist, firm and grounding, fingers curled tightly into your ribs.

"I've been many places in my time, but I admit I've never met anyone quite like you, little one."

His words are smooth as silk, soft and tender in your ear. You smile and raise your brows, glancing from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"Surely you've met more than a few pretty girls in your travels," you reply.

Boba scoffs. His grip on your thigh tightens, pulling you close.

"I have. You…" he shakes his head, and you watch as his gazes slips down to land on your mouth. You bite your lip and your heart races at the way his pupils dilate at the sight of it.

"You're different, sweetheart."

The new pet name makes you shiver, subconsciously pressing closer to him. "Is that right? I can hardly believe I'm much different from anyone else."

You're baiting him, goading him into saying something more. You've never been one for compliments - they've always felt forced, almost disingenuous. Not with Boba.

"The girls I've known either want my head on a pike or can't look me in the eye," he tells you. You chuckle softly - you don't blame them.

"Is that 'cause you'll shoot them if they do?"

Boba grunts and pinches your side, making you squeal. You laugh, full-bodied and silly, at your own joke, spurred on by Boba's tickling.

He leans down, large body curling over you. Your giggles peter out as his lips press against your ear.

"What if I said yes, little one?"

You blink. Slowly, you turn to face him, so close that your noses are brushing.

"If you said yes?" you whisper into the air between your lips.

He hums.

You take a moment to study the scars on his face before grinning, soft and lazy. Your hand, resting on his knee, gives a gentle squeeze.

"Then I'd tell you there's more than a few men in that village who can't look me in the eye."

Your words seem to take Boba by surprise for a moment, from the way his eyebrows bounce up. It's true - when you were younger, boys in the village would try things, stupid dares and pranks you took none too lightly. There's one in particular who, if he looked at you funny, would get a blaster shot to the knee thanks to the shit he's pulled in the past.

They've learned their lessons.

"Is that so?" Boba's voice has gotten slightly deeper. It rolls through you like thunder, filling the small cave with its resonance.

You nod, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips.

His eyes flit down, gaze following the subtle movement of your mouth. It's too much - the closeness, the heat of the fire and of his body and of the way he's looking at you. You bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

And you kiss him.

You press your lips against his, open and pliant, unable to save yourself from how much you want him. Boba groans and returns the kiss, tongue sweeping into your open mouth, licking into you like he's a man starved and you're his next meal. You savor the taste of him, because you can't pinpoint exactly what the flavor on his tongue is, and you know that must mean it's something uniquely Boba.

He shifts his hands to rearrange you, placing your legs on either side of his own so you're straddling him. Your palms come up to rest on his neck and jaw as his land on your hips, pulling you down so you're sitting right on his codpiece. You gasp at the feeling of it through your clothes. Boba bites at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before releasing you.

You open your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. Boba is staring at you, but you can't read the look in his eye.

"What?" you murmur, searching his expression for any hint of what he might be thinking.

He hums, hand on your hip flexing, squeezing. "Nothing, sweetheart, just…"

You wait for him to finish his thought. His brows furrow ever so slightly as he looks back at you. Behind you, the meat sizzles from the heat of the fire, filling the space with its aromatic scent.

Boba shakes his head. "Nevermind."

Before you can respond, he presses forward to kiss you again. You want to encourage him to share what he was going to say, but it only takes a swipe of his tongue against your own to have your eyelids fluttering shut and your thoughts quieting.

He kisses you like the sun - hot and insistent, reminding you how fleeting it all is. You've only ever seen the sun a few times in your life, but its brightness seared your mind in a way not dissimilar to the way Boba's laying his mark on your heart.

You let him kiss you deeply, unhurried, until your brain clicks on long enough to remind you that there's food cooking behind you.

You extract yourself from Boba's hold, which makes him grunt in displeasure until he sees what you're doing. In your pack there's a plate and a cloth, both of which you retrieve and bring back to the fire. Carefully you take the meat off of the spit and put it on the plate, along with the bread.

Boba watches, legs still spread as he sits, leaning back on his hands. You take the plate and sit between his thighs again.

You make to tear a piece of the tender meat off, but you feel a hand on your arm, preventing you from doing so. Confused, you look up at Boba, who simply rips off his own bit of meat. But instead of bringing it to his lips, he raises it to yours.

Wordlessly, you lock eyes with him and open your mouth. His stare is hot, intense, as he feeds you, your lips closing around his index finger and thumb, tongue licking the excess juices off his skin. You take a moment longer than is strictly necessary to taste the pads of his fingers, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his digits like you might something else of his.

You chew the meat once he's pulled his fingers from your mouth. He watches intently until you've swallowed, and then he takes a piece for himself.

As he eats, you find yourself full to the brim with curiosity about him. Once he's finished with his bite, you ask the first question you can think of.

"Last night you mentioned your father. I'd like to hear about him."

Boba raises his brows. He tears off another chunk of meat, offers it to you, and you take it. He speaks as you chew.

"His name was Jango. I -" he seems to consider his words, eyes darting down to the ground as he thinks "- he wasn't technically my father, but he raised me as his son. I traveled with him as a boy, until he was killed by a Jedi."

You frown. "What's that?”

Boba looks at you funny, tilting his head. "You've never heard of the Jedi?"

You shake your head no. "Are they human?"

"Some are," he explains. "They're Force-users, claiming to fight for peace and justice in the galaxy."

His voice is bitter, but you don't blame him, if what he says is true. "But they killed your father."

Boba nods. "They will tell you they fight for what's good and right. But they are no worse than those they call enemies."

"Who are their enemies?"

"The Empire. Dark users of the Force." Boba studies you as you take in this information. You've heard of the Empire, and the Republic, but clearly some information was omitted from your village's records.

"And the Force is…?"

Boba shifts, grabbing some more meat for himself, which he eats before replying.

"I've never fully understood it myself, but from what I gather it's an energy present in all things. The Jedi and the Sith can manipulate it to their will."

You have so many questions, but you know asking them will only make you more confused. Energy in all things? That sounds… well, it sounds overwhelming, to be truthful. It sounds like magic, which your father always told you was the stuff of fairy-stories.

Boba feeds you another morsel and you eat, thinking.

"Can they 'manipulate' blaster fire?" you ask once you've swallowed.

"I don't think so. They tend to deflect it with their lightsabers, which are swords powered by kyber, coincidentally."

You wrinkle your nose. "Swords? I'd take a well-timed blaster shot over a sword any day."

Boba laughs, hearty and full. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, pressing his lips to your temple.

"That's my girl," he mutters. His words send a shiver down your spine.

Boba continues to feed you as he tells you about his father and his own travels. You learn about his time on Kamino, where Jango's DNA was made into clones, and that Boba himself is an unaltered clone of his father. You learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, legendary Jedi who proved difficult for both Boba and Jango at various points through the years. He tells you about meeting Fennec Shand on Tatooine and about another companion of theirs, a man who just goes by the name Mando.

He doesn't tell you about the scars, so you don't ask.

When you're falling asleep, eyes drifting closed as your head rests on Boba's chest, you wonder at the life Boba Fett's led, how such excitement and pain ultimately finds him here, holding you close.

All you've ever known is this planet, your people. Perhaps the universe, in its vast, unknowable expanse, is really here beneath you, in Boba's stories and his scars. You think maybe it's okay that you aren't meant for more than your cold village, because at least you can travel through the galaxy just by listening to him.

At least you can know the taste of the stars just by kissing him.

The next morning is decidedly less relaxed than last night. You and Boba pack up hastily and you're on the trail when the first light of the morning is just beginning to show.

Hours pass in much the same way that they did yesterday. Snow and wind beat at you, but you press on until you reach the area you're no longer entirely familiar with.

You see the map in your mind's eye as you lead Boba across the rocky terrain. You're sure of your path, even though it's beyond any place you've been to previously. Somehow you just know, like the trail is programmed into your feet. Everything seems normal until the wind shifts and you catch the sound of something else on the air.

Throwing an arm out, fist closed, you immediately come to a halt, and Boba follows suit.

You're in an open expanse of snow and ice, still trekking upwards, but now a good distance away from any sheer cliff faces. You tighten your grip on your staff and listen, ears drowning out the howling wind to pick out the other you'd just sensed.

Something's ahead of you. Something large. You can hear the shifting of its weight, the silence of the space it takes up.

You glance back to Boba and nod. Carefully, quietly, he walks up to stand next to you.

"Up ahead," you tell him, voice as low as possible so as to not be heard by anyone - or anything - other than him. "Something big. It has to be -"

Your mouth snaps shut when you see it. Up ahead, a pair of glowing blue eyes emerge like beacons out of the fog, looming over you even before you can see the rest of its body. The ongrol moves forward, massive steps fading in and shaking the ground under your feet. You clench your jaw and ready yourself for what you know is coming.

You look over at Boba, and when the visor turns to face you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you, perfectly clear despite lack of words and facial expressions.

The ongrol doesn't allow you a moment longer, though. Its massive form is now visible through the driving snow - white fur with glowing blue stripes, pointed ears with long, flowing tips, and massive fangs.

You draw your blaster.

The moment it senses the two of you, it looks down and roars. Immediately it's charging forward and you fire off a volley of shots, though they don't seem to do a whole lot of good. Boba's hand comes down like durasteel on your arm and he jerks you back, positioning himself between you and the monster. He aims his fire-blaster at it, hosing it down with a torrent of flame. The ongrol yelps, then snarls, and you watch as it raises its massive paw, claws extended, piercing blue gaze zeroed in on Boba.

In that split second there's a feeling that comes over you, a gut instinct that pours over your body like warm water. It fills your skin, your nerves, your bones, so fully that your mind goes quiet in the wake of your body taking control.

As if you'd done it a thousand times before, you plant your feet and thrust your hand towards the beast, palm open. A feeling like electricity surges through you - not painful, but equally powerful and all-consuming.

The ongrol flies away, launched through the air, as if pulled by some invisible force.

Its cries echo against the mountainside as it falls, tumbling and rolling down a cliff face you can't quite see.

Boba whirls around to look at you, and the last thing you see is his visor coming closer as you collapse and the world goes dark.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the warmth surrounding you. It's everywhere, like you're lying in front of a fire, and your immediate instinct is to turn over and fall back asleep. Your tired brain wants nothing more than to bask in the heat and enjoy it for as long as it will last.

But then your eyes flutter behind their lids, and you catch glimpses of something glowing, bluish-green in a way you've never before experienced. With considerable effort, you open your eyes wide, and the sight before you brings your mind to full awareness. You struggle to tuck an arm under yourself and push up slightly, getting a better view of where you are.

You're lying atop your bedroll, your staff on the ground next to you. Immediately in front of you is a pool of water, still and steaming, that glows a bright, shimmering combination of blues and greens. No, wait… the water itself isn't glowing - rather, it's reflecting light from the walls.

Walls lined with crystals.

You still feel exhausted, despite having just woken up, but the sight of the kyber makes you jolt to a sitting position. Your head swims, dizzy and drained.

From behind you, you hear Boba's voice.

"Woah there," he murmurs, a hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the rocking motion of the world around you.

When you open your eyes again, Boba's sitting to your left, facing you.

"What happened?" you ask, your memory of the events of this morning still foggy and distant.

Boba hums. "Well, you tossed that cat across a mountain with your mind."

You frown and look up at him incredulously. His helmet's off - in fact, he's also taken off the rest of his armor as well as the top half of his flight suit - he's left in his pants, undershirt, and boots.

His arms are bare. It's the most of him you've seen - his biceps bulge, large chest straining against the tight shirt he wears.

Your thoughts circle back to what he just said.

"Run that by me again," you mutter, searching his face for any hint of a lie. Boba blinks, raises a brow, and stares back, keeping the eye contact.

"You used the Force to kill that lion, princess."

His face is stone-straight. He's not lying to you, not that you can tell.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the heels of your hands across them roughly. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids, and for a moment, your nausea abates. It comes back to you in flashes - the creature's eyes, the sound of its roars on the wind, the feeling that overcame you when you watched it raise its deadly claws at Boba.

It's nothing you've ever felt before in your life.

"So…" you pause, trying to sort through the situation. "So - does this mean… how is that possible?"

Boba puts a hand on your calf, firm and grounding. "You want my theory?"

Hands still pressed to your eyes, you nod.

"The water. It's infused with kyber, which is what has healed your people, but it must have also awoken a Force-sensitivity in you."

You take a few deep breaths, the exhaustion and nausea slowly leaving your body with each exhalation. Boba's thumb rubs your skin softly, a simple back-and-forth motion that brings your racing mind back down into your head.

Carefully, you take your hands from your eyes. The world has finally stopped spinning. You look over at the pool to your right, into its calm, tranquil waters. Steam rises from its surface and dissipates before it can reach the cavernous ceiling above you. Kyber dots the walls, green and blue all around you, mesmerizing and radiant.

Sweat is beginning to gather under your eyes and on the back of your neck and between your breasts. You belatedly realize Boba has undressed you to your undergarments, so you sit there in little more than your underwear and a sleeveless top.

You stare at your hands, fidgeting between your thighs, and look up at Boba again. A million questions are floating through your mind, but you're not sure he'll be able or willing to answer them all. You bite your lip, brow furrowed.

"Does this mean I'm a Jedi?" It's the most pressing question on your mind, because if what Boba says is true, you're not so sure you want any part in your newfound gifts.

Boba shakes his head. "No, little one. All Jedi are force-users, but not all force-users are Jedi. Or Sith, for that matter."

In your lap, you turn your hands so your palms are facing up, cradling one another. Nothing has changed about them - still the same jagged patterns of lines as always. Still the same, but with this new… sensitivity, they feel foreign.

The Force feels like a new limb, a new sense that's now made your body a stranger to your mind.

"What do you remember from yesterday?" Boba asks, rough voice a soothing balm to your racing heart.

You tilt your head, trying to gather your memories together. "I remember walking up the mountain, and then there was the ongrol. I tried to shoot it, but that didn't work, and then you pushed me behind you. You threw your fire at it, and then it -"

Suddenly, you feel yourself getting choked up. It washes over you like a gust of cool air, returning to the emotion you felt in that moment on the mountainside. You blink a few times, swallowing down your panic and fear at the thought of it.

"And then it raised its paw, and I thought you were going to die."

Boba says nothing, just waits and lets you continue.

"All of a sudden this feeling came over me, like an instinct, and then there was this… this buzz that I felt. I just did it. I don't know how I knew how to."

Boba nods. He's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place, soft and severe all at the same time. It makes you shiver despite the heat that surrounds you.

You avert your eyes, instead focusing on his hand where it lay on your leg. His fingers nearly encircle your calf. You reach out and take his hand in yours, drawing it close to you, running the tips of your fingers over his knuckles, his wrist, the silvery scars that interrupt his tan skin.

"From what I understand," Boba murmurs, curling his fingers into yours ever so slightly, "it's supposed to take years of training for a Force-user to wield that sort of power, princess."

You glance up at him. He's smiling at you now, dark eyes sparkling.

Something about his expression, combined with what he just said, hooks into your brain and sours the taste on your tongue. You recall your doubts from earlier, doubts about who he is. Why would it matter if you - a village girl from a desolate snow planet - have more of a gift than most? Why would he care?

Your immediate reaction is that he's flattering you, like he did the other night in front of the fire. For some reason, your instinct tells you this is different, that he's got motives beyond those he's revealed to you.

Instinct has proven to be on your side lately, so you follow it headfirst.

"Why did you call yourself a king?"

Boba's smile vanishes, and the tension between you grows tenfold.

You grasp his hand firmly. Your faces seem so much closer now.

"What?" he asks, even though you know he heard you perfectly well. You narrow your eyes, not liking whatever game he's playing at. Boba Fett doesn't seem to be the type to play dumb, and you're certainly not the type to fall for it.

"You heard me," you say, voice calm and monotone. "Why did you call yourself a king when you were fucking me?"

Boba chuckles, a deadly sound that would have unnerved you if you were anyone but yourself.

He raises a brow. "Interesting question. Didn't you like it?"

"I liked it a lot less when I realized you had no reason to say it, bounty hunter."

Your voice is acidic, like venom hissing out from between your teeth.

"Or am I mistaken?"

Boba hums, but it feels more like a growl with your close proximity to him. "You sure you want to fall down that sarlacc pit, little one?"

You clench your jaw, giving your answer in the way you stare unwaveringly into his eyes.

His eyes flit down to your lips and back up again. You lean back slightly in response, refusing to let him distract you.

"It's not an official title, if that's your concern," he says.

"What sort of title is it, then?" you ask, guarded heart racing once again.

Boba tilts his head to one side, taking a long moment to look at you. His breathing is slow, steady, and you try to match your own to it, but his next words throw you off balance.

"A stolen one."

You blink, a fluttering sensation erupting in your chest - and not in a good way. It's as if your heart has tripped over itself in an attempt to flee him.

He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, tender and authoritative as he runs his thumb along your lower lip. "I killed the man who last sat on my throne, so the title is now mine."

You frown, despite the digit near your mouth. "What's your kingdom, then? Who are your subjects?"

"Those like me," he responds, without hesitation. "Hunters. Mercenaries. People who are willing to do most anything for some credits."

The dots are beginning to connect in your brain, and you're not sure you like the picture that's forming.

"Criminals. You're - you're a crime lord," you mutter.

Boba chuckles again, a smirk forming at the edges of his lips. "Something like that."

A conflicted feeling rises in your chest. You twist your chin out of his grasp, looking away and into the waters beside you. Had you known this was the man you were dealing with, would you have let him between your legs that first night? You'd like to think not. But then again, a voice in your head reasons vehemently, you knew he was a bounty hunter, and how is that any better?

You purse your lips. At the moment you're not entirely sold on what your conscience is telling you to do, which is to cut him off now and end whatever it is that exists between the two of you.

In your lap, you're still holding his hand in both of yours.

"I want to trust you, Boba," you admit. He puts his other hand on your thigh as you turn back to face him. "But I'm not daft."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you aren't finished. "I know it may not be in your nature, but I would appreciate some clarity here. What does this... this Force sensitivity really mean? I'm not some spoiled, naive princess, either - despite what you may say."

Boba is silent - his brown eyes are as intense as they are unreadable as they look at you. It drags on long enough that you get restless. You let go of his hand and turn away, tucking your feet up under yourself to stand.

The water has been calling to you each time you’ve looked at it, and you can no longer resist its draw. Tentatively, you touch a toe into the shimmering pool, marvelling at its warmth.

You walk forward. With each step, you feel as though you're gaining life, absorbing energy you hadn't known you'd lost.

The water is up to your thighs when Boba finally speaks.

"The Force will die in you if you remain here for the rest of your life, princess."

That gives you pause. You turn around. Boba is shirtless now, but he's still reclining as he was. It takes a major effort not to let your eyes drop down to his abdomen, enticing like a beacon in your periphery.

"You want to know what I’m thinking, is that right?” He asks the question like he half expects you to say no.

You nod. Around you, the warm, steaming water is rippling with your movements, but it shimmers in a manner more than can be described as distinctly natural. Almost without thought, you step backwards, submerging yourself further in its enticing warmth. Your fingers and palms skim the surface.

"I wanted to ask you to join me. To come back with me."

It almost makes you laugh, the way he says it so seriously. A disbelieving smile crosses your features.

"You know I can't leave my people," you reply. "You've known that since the start."

Boba sighs. "I have. I was still tempted to ask, regardless. Ever since the tavern."

That's interesting. This whole line of conversation is peculiar - you get the feeling he rarely needs to explain himself in such a way to anyone.

"Why? What use am I to you?"

He stands, but does not follow you into the water. Instead, he walks over to another part of the cave and leans against the wall, observing you.

"It's always been selfish," he admits. "At first I just wanted you as a crew member. You have a way for negotiating, or at least the type of negotiating that would be useful for my sort of operation.

“But then you revealed yourself to be this needy little thing, so desperate for me to fuck you, and I could just picture you in my ship, or in the palace, spread out and wanting me wherever I am.”

Those words, low and promising, cause a certain sort of wetness to pool in your underwear, one that can’t be blamed on the water that surrounds you. By now, you’re up to your collarbones in it, hands no longer visible to him as they remain at your sides.

You hook a thumb under the waistband of your panties and slide them off, slowly floating down as the water pulls them from your form. When they get low enough, you tuck them under your heel to hide the garment away.

Boba gives no hint that he sees, so you assume he cannot tell.

“You wanted to bring me back as a rare specimen, to show off to the criminals who work for you,” you retort, though something deep within you preens at the idea.

Something hidden and unknown until that night in front of the fireplace.

He just hums. “Yes.”

You can’t decide if his blunt honesty is a fault or a virtue. Right now, it’s mainly serving to bring heat to the space between your thighs. To hide your arousal, you narrow your eyes, trying to focus on why exactly he thinks he can just… whisk you away to some strange planet.

“And now,” you reply, “what's your reason for asking me to come back with you?”

He shrugs. “As I said, without training, the Force will die in you. I have connections to nearly any type of creature in this galaxy, Force-users included. I am your only hope if you want to keep your gift. If not, we go back down this mountain and it’ll be as though I was never here.”

That does present an interesting twist. The gears in your mind turn a bit faster, thinking on what exactly this may mean for you.

You consider where you are in the present moment - the reason Boba is even here in the first place. You consider your duty to your people, and you consider the long life your father has ahead of him.

How much time you have before you'll need to take his place.

How little time you might have if someone else realizes what this mountain holds.

"You said this kyber puts out some sort of signature, one that others can pick up on."

Boba raises a brow, and you see that he catches on to what you're proposing.

You continue, because if you don't, you'll convince yourself the idea is foolish. "This Force-user could teach me to hide the signature, no?"

"I don't see why not," Boba replies. In his eyes you see a glimmer of humor, like he thinks he's got you wrapped around his little finger. The way you're talking, you're on the verge of agreeing to return with him. He's got it in stone - his negotiator, this girl who needs him so strongly.

You see through him, though. He's tough to read, but you're learning to look between the lines.

Boba Fett is a criminal. For your whole life, you've studied law and order, learning the diplomatic ways of other planets and societies. To go with him would be to align yourself with everything you should hate, everything you should fight against.

But you are, after all, more than just a meek princess. You're a leader, a role model, a strong woman and lover of your people. Are you willing to dispense with your morality in favor of this Force training? In favor of following this man who has stolen your heart like he stole his throne?

"Say I did go," you start, and he doesn't even bother to hide his small grin. "Say I go with you. What does that look like for me? I will not be reduced to some pleasure slave, hidden away in your palace."

Boba shakes his head. "You will be free, my dear. You and I will work together, for both of our benefits. When I need a kind, unrelenting negotiator, you will speak on my behalf. In return, I find your training."

It sounds too good to be true, especially considering the major aspect to your relationship he has not yet mentioned.

Your eyes finally flit down to his chest, broad and thick in a way you never knew you'd like so much. His arms and shoulders are equally as enticing, the knowledge of how strong he is only serving to make his body more attractive to you. He is scarred, long-healed gashes across his skin the echoes of unimaginable pain and fire. As your gaze drops lower, tracing the skin of his abdomen as it disappears into the waistband of his pants, you feel something tighten in your chest. In the space between your hips.

Seeing him like this is intimate, almost more so than that very first night, and he hasn't even touched you.

"And what else might I expect, traveling with you?" You ask it knowing he sees the way you're looking at him.

Boba hums, as though he's giving the question some thought. He pushes off from the stone wall he was leaned up against.

"You know where this will go, princess."

His hands drop down to hook into the front of his pants, fingers toying with the clasp there. Your eyes follow the movement, entranced. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and ripple as he works his hands, movement capturing your eye like a mouse to bread.

"I do," you reply, "but I want you to tell me."

His gaze darkens at your words. You watch as he deftly unfastens his trousers and pushes them down, stepping out of them and towards you. He moves unhurriedly, but with clear purpose.

You feel like you're one of his bounties, caught in the crosshairs of his rifle. Trapped.

Excitement courses through your veins.

"The first place I'll fuck you will be the ship," Boba says as he walks forward into the water, his thick thighs flexing with each step. You're too caught up in watching him approach to think to respond.

"Before we even leave this planet, I'll have you screaming against the durasteel, begging for my cock."

Your brain goes a bit fuzzy at his words, at the force of the arousal that hits you. It's like the moment he starts speaking to you like this, all higher function in your mind shuts off, full only of the images he conjures with his voice.

Boba's getting closer, and before you know it, he's within arm's reach.

All at once his hands are on you, rucking up your top to search out your bare skin, warm under the water. You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, savoring the heat of his skin on your own.

"Once we get to Tatooine," he continues, pressing his lips close to your ear, voice like honey flowing over you, "I'll get you the most expensive dresses credits can buy, and we'll go to the clubs and cantinas and everyone there will want what's mine."

Your grip tightens, nails digging into his flesh. Boba finally pushes your top all the way up and off. He absentmindedly tosses it behind him, landing with a wet smack against the stone floor of the cave. His palms find your breasts and he squeezes them, kneading, flicking his thumbs over your nipples.

The feeling of it, like sparks shooting through your chest, makes you gasp, light and breathy.

"You'll sit on my lap at the sabacc table, and all those filthy criminals will know exactly how much you love getting fucked."

Boba runs a hand down your side, the other still toying with your breast, and you watch his face as he realizes you're no longer wearing your panties.

His jaw clenches as his fingers curl into the meat of your hip. He dips his head down so his nose brushes against yours, his breath cool compared to the heat of the water.

"You're a temptress, little one."

You can't help the small smile that floats across your lips. "What was that about how much I love getting fucked?”

He hums, dark and deep, the sound nearly a growl with the way it reverberates around you. Boba slides his hands down beneath your ass, and then he's hauling you up and pressing you against the wall to your left. You squeal at the sudden movement, legs locking around his waist and hands gripping his shoulders even tighter to keep from slipping away.

You feel the heat of a cloth-covered bulge against your burning, most sensitive skin. The sudden pressure of it makes you gasp, smiling, breathing in the air he's just exhaled with how close your mouths are.

Boba holds you with such ease. It's as though you're floating, featherlight in his arms.

"Watch it," he mutters, leaning in to graze his lips against the shell of your ear, the broad plane of his chest covering your own.

"Or what?"

It’s clear that Boba is more turned on than annoyed by your teasing, despite his words. He adjusts his grip so his broad palms fit even tighter around your hips, pressing his erection solidly into your bare core once again, rolling his hips wickedly. The water enhances everything - the throbbing in your cunt is amplified tenfold and you can hardly contain yourself.

His words only serve to drive you madder, lips and teeth pressed against your neck.

“Or I’ll make sure every last man in that village sees the limp in your walk before I take you away,” he growls.

You moan at the thought of it, at the thought of walking past your friends and fellow townspeople in such a state. The things they'd say - the whispers - would never get back to you, for you know they respect you too much, but oh, would they talk.

Boba shifts, reaching down to finally free his cock from his underwear. Almost immediately, you feel the hot length of it pressed up against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he mutters, moving his hips and torturing you with the drag of his dick. “They’ll all see how well I’ve fucked you - how good their little princess takes a bounty hunter’s cock.”

Your eyes slip closed as you cry out, shaking with how much you need him. “Please, Boba!”

His shoulder muscles ripple under your palms and he groans. "I need to get you ready for me, little one --"

"No," you cut him off, voice little more than a whine, pulling him closer as best you can in your desperate state. "I can take it. Right now, I need it, I need you, Boba--"

With a grunt, Boba lines himself up, hands like durasteel on your hips as he pulls you close in tandem with the thrust of his cock. You moan, high-pitched and uninhibited, when you feel his hot member pierce your cunt. Your folds part easily for him, the head sliding into your pussy like it was built just for this.

Your legs tighten around Boba's waist as he starts fucking you, dirty promises and filthy imaginings rolling off his tongue. His voice strains with each thrust, and it all just feels so divine.

You think you could live like this, if he'd let you. Get addicted to the way his cock moves inside you and never spend another day without it.

"That's it," he mutters, teeth bearing down on your neck, surely leaving marks that'll turn black and blue in a day or so. On a particularly sharp thrust, you're jolted back, legs trembling in his hold.

"Maker, Boba." You open your eyes and see the way he's looking at you, teeth slightly bared and brows furrowed. He looks vicious as he uses you.

"You're so tight, princess. My fat cock fits in your little cunt so well," he grits out, your body still jostling with each thrust. Your eyes are fixated on his face, on his mouth, watching the words spill out from behind his lips.

For a moment, your brain provides a sliver of sass, making your eyes sparkle with mirth, even as your tits bounce against Boba's bare chest.

"You fuck pretty good for an old man."

Boba growls, a deep chuckle combined with a moan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. His thrusts slow and he leans back, taking in the way your body is wrapped around him. Your hands fall to your breasts, pressing them together and flicking your thumbs over your nipples.

He snaps his hips up, hard, slamming his cock into you and forcing a whine from your throat. You can feel his balls smack your ass, even under the water. "You're desperate for it, princess. Desperate for this old man to fuck you like you need."

He rolls his hips again, rhythm slow and steady and deep. The air around you seems to rock in tandem with him.

"Yeah, you'll love Tatooine," he drawls, exhaling through his nose. "I could take this sweet pussy right on the throne and no one would say a thing. They'll all watch their King fuck a woman young enough to be his daughter."

You moan loudly, silken walls clenching and fluttering around his cock as it pounds into you.

He hums. "You like that, huh, little one?"

Despite yourself, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut again. Boba's left hand comes up to grip your chin, fingers like iron against your jaw. His thrusts get shallower, lazy, like he's become distracted from the fact that he's currently balls-deep inside you.

Your hands find his chest, getting your fill of his searing hot skin against your own.

"Open," he demands, and you do, tongue resting on your bottom lip.

Boba hesitates for a moment, and in that split second, the world around you is still once again. "This mouth," he murmurs, "is just begging to be filled, isn't it."

The words make you clench around him, an involuntary reaction to the thought of putting his cock in your mouth, of laving it with attention and worshipping it like it deserves.

Your eyes are still closed, so you can't see as he closes his mouth and works his jaw for a moment, gathering saliva on his tongue. You only feel the jarring sensation of spit landing in the back of your throat, filthy and debasing.

"Swallow it, little girl."

Eyes fluttering open, you do as you're told, and you know you'd do it a million more times if it means he'll look at you like he is right now, eyes dark as space itself.

"Thank you, my king."

You don't know what compels you to say it, other than the fact that it just feels right. Boba smiles, a sly thing that makes his dark eyes sparkle with something dangerous, and he begins fucking you again.

His hand slips down to your throat. Not tight, just resting there, a reminder.

Boba Fett licks his lips before speaking, the steam from the water around you making his face look almost eerie in the glow of the kyber. "You take me so well, my queen."

He picks up the pace again, and soon he's jackhammering into you with the same fervor as before. Your mind melts into a puddle inside your skull, only able to focus on the push-pull within you and the building crescendo that accompanies it. Boba's fingers tighten ever so slightly on your neck, and you respond in kind, curling your nails into the meat of his pecs like claws.

The fire within you is licking up your legs, winding through your ribs, and you gasp when it feels so close it's unbearable.

"Boba, I'm gonna - I need --"

He cuts you off with two simple words: "Touch yourself."

And so you do, the fingers of your dominant hand flying down to rub your clit and draw your orgasm to its inevitable peak. You press the pads of your middle and ring fingers to the bundle of nerves and frantically work to bring yourself off.

The sparks that shoot through you at the feeling of your own touch, combined with Boba's continued movements within you, force you up and over the edge of your climax in rapid succession. You cry out, the sound of it echoing far above your heads.

There must be something about the water, because the sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Your whole body seizes, straining against the hand that's wrapped like durasteel around your neck, and a tingling sensation shoots down your arms and legs to your toes. You've heard tales of the afterlife, of nirvana, of pure euphoria, and you think this must be it, because you can hardly comprehend the full-body pleasure that engulfs and drowns you.

When it passes, you go limp in his arms, head draped against his shoulder.

Boba finishes not long after, spilling into you. His spend is hot where it fills you, hotter than the water, and it's like an ancient lock has been fastened shut inside your cunt.

Your king carries you back to the dry stone floor. He lays you down and kisses you softly, heatedly, passionately. He kisses you as a lover should, like you're consummating a bond. A contract, signed in the twist of his tongue against yours.

The two of you do not leave that cave for a long while, taking the time to explore one another's bodies in every way you can dream up. You finally taste his cock, swallow his cum and find you love the taste, and Boba likewise licks and eats your pussy like he's a man starved.

When it's time to depart, you do so a changed woman. Boba Fett's body has left its touchmark on your soul. Now that you know true pleasure, the gratifying gift of submission to him, you couldn't imagine not going with him for at least some time. Leaving with him has become a need more than a want. You'll return someday, to rule and guide your people as you should, but not before you explore life with Boba for a while.

He promises so much, so many experiences and pleasures and truths. You can't let those promises go unfulfilled.

When Din enters the throne room, he surveys the space, as he always does when he walks through a doorway. Little is out of place.

Boba is seated upon the throne, conversing with a supplier, helmet betraying exactly as much emotion as Din's own does. From the grip Fett has on the arm of the throne, however, it's clear the negotiations aren't going to turn out well for the snivelling merchant.

Shand is leaning against a wall, jar of spotchka clutched in one hand, gesticulating with the other. She's smiling, which is rare for her, as she speaks in a tone Din can't quite hear.

Next to her is a girl Din's never seen in the palace before. She's dressed rather strangely - a thick cloak with fur trim over dark clothes, pants tucked into leather boots and some sort of shirt-tunic on her torso.

Certainly not suitable for the weather on Tatooine. In fact, Din would wager that's the clothing of someone from a snow planet.

He walks further into the room and catches the attention of Fennec and her friend. They both look at him; Fennec only for a second, but her companion's gaze lingers. Din thinks he sees something akin to curiosity - perhaps surprise - in her eyes, but it's hard to tell.

Her head turns to look directly at Boba, eyebrows raised. The other bounty hunter dips his head in acknowledgement.

Din stops in his tracks, unsure of the dynamic he's just walked into.

"You're excused," Boba barks, waving a hand at the supplier, who yelps and scurries out of the room.

He then rises from his seat and makes his way down to where Din's standing. He removes his helmet - an action that still makes Din tense up, even with everything that's happened - and tucks it under an arm. He sticks his other hand out and Din shakes it, nodding once.

"It went well, I assume?" Boba's almost smiling, which is a rare sight to see on his usually sullen visage.

Din nods again. "Yes. He's doing… he's doing great."

If he took his own helmet off, Din's smile would be clear as day.

Boba claps his hand against Din's shoulder, an amicable gesture that Din must remind himself is a sign of friendship, not posturing. Old habits die hard.

"I've got someone I'd like you to meet, Djarin," Boba says, turning towards the women who stand, watching them, not too far away.

They walk over. Fennec takes a sip of her spotchka, while the girl glances between him and Boba. For the life of him, he can't figure out where she might have come from, or what her role will be here. She's pretty, that much he will readily admit. Her eyes are bright and alert in a way that tells him she sees more than she lets on, and her stance is simultaneously relaxed and braced for conflict. He knows it well - it's as easy as beskar to spot.

She holds herself like a warrior.

She’s also young - certainly the youngest in the room.

Boba's voice pulls Din out of his thoughts. "This is our newest crew member. She'll be helping us with our… over-the-table dealings, in exchange for training."

Confused, Din tilts his head. "Training? What kind of training?"

"That's where I'd hoped you'd be able to help," Boba tells him. The girl looks from Fett to him, eyes focused right on his own through the visor.

"I need guidance in the Force. Boba said you have connections to people who could help me master my Force sensitivity."

Well, he supposes that's at least somewhat true. Ahsoka may be willing, but given how it went with Grogu, he wouldn't count on her.

"I'll see what I can do," he responds. As is his habit, he props his hand on his belt, hip jutting out just so.

The girl's eyes flicker down and back up again.

Boba clears his throat. "In the meantime, the princess and I have other matters to attend to."

He reaches out to her, and at first Din thinks he's going to grasp her shoulder in his firm grip like he tends to do with all of his close acquaintances.

Din quickly sees that this girl is much more than just a close acquaintance.

Boba’s hand finds its place on her neck, thumb tucked under her jaw and fingers wrapped around the base of her skull, tangled in her loose hair. As if they’ve done it a million times before, they lean towards one another. The girl’s eyes flutter closed, a soft smile on her face, while Boba’s study her unabashedly.

Their lips connect, heatedly, and Din knows his surprise shows in his movements. He glances over to Fennec, who just smirks at him.

The couple in front of him kiss one another completely without shame. Boba’s grip tightens to the point it looks almost painful, but the girl simply presses closer in response. She brings a hand up to rest on his chestplate, the only bare skin visible besides her face and neck.

Despite how warm his cheeks feel, Din can’t look away. He feels a rush of blood out of his head at the sight in front of him.

Boba and his lover kiss for another long moment before pulling away. He slides his hand to her hip, casually pulling her along as if he’d simply taken her by the hand.

She falls into step beside him, looking more comfortable than Din’s ever seen anyone next to Boba Fett. As they walk away, the girl glances back at Din, her observant gaze piercing right through him. Right through the beskar of his helmet.

And then she turns back, content in the embrace of the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fucks #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #boba fett x female reader #no y/n #female reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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romantichopelessly · 5 years

Text

My Fic Masterpost

A masterpost of all of my written works, if anyone doesn’t feel like visiting my AO3, or wants to reblog my works or something, idk. If you want to read any of these on AO3, they’re on my account, its under the same name as this one.

Drabbles (Less Than 1K)

Tech Support - Logan/Virgil - “This is Technical Support, Logan Sanders speaking. How may I help you?”

Cool Kids - None - Logan doesn’t care for Procrastination. At all. Procrastination is a silly, useless, counterproductive side. He brings nothing to the table but nonsensical chatter and jokes worse than Patton’s. So why does everyone like him so much?

It’s Late - Logan/Nate - Logan is overworking himself again, and Nate takes matters into disown hands, finding a way to get his boyfriend to finally relax.

Reunited - Roman/Patton - Roman hasn’t seen his Canadian boyfriend in a year now, and he’s anxious to see him again, even though he won’t admit it.

The Crofter’s Conundrum - Logan/Roman - Roman wants the Crofter’s. Logan has the Crofter’s.

Blushes and Betas - Declan Trompeur & Beckett Moran - Declan is in town and visiting Beckett, and that silly envy won’t stop being a sap. Really, he would be mad if he didn’t care about them so much. (Set in @insanelycoolish TLHR Universe)

Puddles and Puns - Virgil/Patton - It’s raining outside, and somehow Patton convinces Virgil to go out with him. Bad jokes ensue, but Virgil loves his short boyfriend, so it’s all okay.

Prop Theif - Roman/Virgil - Stage tech Virgil is sick and tired of the props going missing, and he knows exactly who is behind it. Roman Knight.

You Know Who to Call - Virgil/Emile - Emile comes home to his fiancé feeling down and out of it. Luckily he has early-2000s cartoons, a psychiatry degree, and plenty of cuddles to go around.

Public Displays - Roman/Virgil - Virgil isn’t one for PDA. Virgil isn’t one for much of anything until he meets Roman, though.

You Put Your Arms Around Me - Remy/Thomas - Disney debates on The Witching Hour tour bus + Quality Remas Time. (Set in @insanelycoolish TLHR Universe)

Try Some? - Logan/Nate - “Try Some?” Nate blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Logan was still standing there, beautiful as ever, watching him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry, baby. What did you just say?”

This Is Home - Declan Trompeur & Beckett Moran - Declan is confident in his orientation. Really, he is. 100%. He’s just... not so sure that Beckett really knows what they’re getting into here.

Prom Night - Logan/Nate - Nate goes to pick up his boyfriend for their Senior Prom.

Adoration - Roman/Virgil - Virgil and Roman enjoy a day in the sunlight.

Champagne Kisses - Remy/Thomas - Remy believes that being sober is definitely worth it if his boyfriend is going to be this enthusiastically affectionate.

Okay - Roman/Virgil - Roman and Virgil recuperate after Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts.

Cheater - Logan/Deceit - Logan Berry never carried the title of sore loser before he started dating his number one debate competitor.

Sleepy Time - Logan/Patton - “I am not human, therefore, I do not need sleep.”

Hand Drawn - Virgil/Patton - “Were you drawing me?”

One in a Million - Logan/Remy - “You would risk the lives of millions for one person? Why?”

Breathless - Logan/Roman - “I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so... when I kissed you... you held your breath.”

Cowardice - Deceit/Logan - “You hide away this entirely different part to yourself all because you’re afraid that someone might get close to you!”

Concentration - Deceit/Remus - “Look, I know you’re a hardass, but could you play with my hair? It would really help.”

Birthmark - Platonic Janus&Remus&Roman - Roman asks about Dee’s birthmark. Takes place in my BOTWOT universe.

Sea Ships - Remus/Remy - A short Drabble for my SPOP universe.

Raccoon From Where? - None - The Jack-Jack and raccoon Incredibles 2 scene with my Celestial Kid AU.

F- U - None - Virgil’s claiming from my PJO AU

First Babysit - None - A snippet of Roman’s first time babysitting Patton in my Celestial Kid AU

Oneshots (1K+)

When You’re Not Listening - Logan/Nate - Three times Logan or Nate protected one another behind the other’s back, and one time they stopped being idiots and noticed.

So This Is Love - Roman/Patton - Roman isn’t feeling like his usual glittery self due to a lack of ideas, so Patton helps him unwind. Involving lots of romantic music and dancing.

Backstage Confessions - Logan/Patton - Logan is completely gone on the keyboardist for The Witching Hour, but what else is new? (Set in @insanelycoolish TLHR Universe)

More Than Friendship - Patton/Deceit - Deceit was still getting used to this whole “friendship” thing. Ever since the light sides had made reforming him their sort of personal pet project, Deceit had heard the term and others like it in reference to him thrown around far too often. Patton was quite possibly the most confusing new ‘friend’ of all.

In Other Words, Hold My Hand - Logan & Virgil - Virgil has always loved Disney films. The magic of talking animals and princesses fascinated him as a child. His older brother always told him that when he was older he would understand why his favorite characters were always falling in love. He didn't really get it until he met Logan Berry. Even then he wasn't sure that he got it.

Overdue Apologies - Janus/Patton - Patton didn’t expect anyone to visit him. Post Putting Others First.

Not a Cinderella Story - Virgil/Remus - When they were younger, Remus, Roman and Virgil were inseparable. But things change. And people grow up.

Roman’s List - None - “If it is a mistake, I’ll add it to the list!” Romangst.

Peppermint, Ginger, Lemongrass and Truth - LAMP - Patton Bellerose is a witch. This is only a problem because now he has to find a way to tell his three boyfriends, Logan, Roman and Virgil, before his birthday is over.

Line Without a Hook - Patton/Remus - When Patton’s entire world view is challenged–when he doesn’t even know who he is supposed to be anymore, help comes from an unexpected source. Maybe things can be okay after all.

Talking to the Moon - Virgil/Logan - Logan is a man of routine. Routines are sensible. It's perfectly sensible that his routine revolves around his roommate. Virgil. Even though his roommate doesn't know that he's a vampire. Even though his roommate doesn't know that he is in love with him. (Or: Virgil and Logan are vampires. And neither of them know about the other. And they were roommates.)

Series

Don’t You, Forget About Me - ??? - Five kids who don’t fit in. Five kids who have no place. Five kids who don’t really know one another or anyone else. All stuck in one room for Saturday detention. Patton Clark the athlete, Logan Johnson the brain, Roman Standish the prince, Virgil Bender the criminal, and “Deceit” Reynolds the basket case. Part 1 - Part 2

Could You Check Me Out? - Logan/Roman - Roman hates working at the public library, but things get a little bit more interesting when a really cute nerd comes in. It’s a huge plus when said nerd blushed easily. Part 1 - Part 2

Bracelet ‘Verse - Patton/Virgil & Logan/Roman & Remus/Janus - Touch starved Virgil tries a quid pro quo to get hugs from his best friend, and maybe grows some feelings as well. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Extra 1

Best Of Todays/Worst of Tomorrows - Familial TDLAMPR - Thomas Sanders, 30 years old, is looking for something to do with his life. Not like a job or anything, he has that covered, but he’s recently come to the realization that he isn’t really doing anything with himself. He has too much free time and what feels like next to no impact on the world. Until, much to the shock of his close friends, he becomes a foster parent. In next to no time at all, Thomas is paired with not one, not two, but six foster kids. Seventeen-year-old Patton Hart, fifteen-year-old Virgil Williams, thirteen-year-old Dee Truman, twelve-year-old Logan Croft, and seven-year-olds Roman and Remus Lobo. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8.1 - Part 8.2 - Part 8.3 - Part 9

#masterlist #writing #I talk sometimes #sanders sides #Logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #nate sanders #emile picani #Remy sanders #Thomas sanders

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myhoneststudyblr · 5 years

Text

Anxiety

So I don’t usually post about personal stuff. In fact I never post about actual personal stuff but I want to start doing it more because one of the best things about studyblr is the community but I think sometimes the reality of what it’s like to be a student today can sometimes get lost in all the aesthetic and self care and study tips. And anyway, my url is myhoneststudyblr so maybe I should be honest and share something with you guys.

***

With that in mind:

I just had a panic attack.

It came completely out of the blue and wasn’t even anything to do with studying or school or something like that. Or maybe it was. Maybe deep in my subconscious, I’m stressed about something or something upset me today in school and i just don’t fully realise it. Maybe it’s just school I general, I don’t know. But anyway the immediate cause of it wasn’t anything study related.

I had a panic attack because I couldn’t find my headphones.

I was getting ready for bed, listening to my Taylor Swift Playlist (aka my happy, nostalgia songs) and I looked at my bedside table and my headphones weren’t there.

Now this isn’t actually anything unusual, so I did what I usually do and go check my desk, where 90% of the time is exactly where I find them no problem.

They weren’t there.

So I looked in the next place they usually are, the place I find my headphones the remaining 9.9% of the time: the pockets of my blazer.

They weren’t there.

This is where I began to panic.

I frantically checked my ‘phone pocket’ again. And then I did it again just in case I missed it the last two times. And then I looked the the other two pockets in my blazer: I never usually put my headphones in either of those pockets but maybe - hopefully - I put them in there this time.

They weren’t there.

By this point, my breath is getting a little short. I’m telling myself to calm down, make a plan, deep breaths in and out, count to 10, you can solve this!!! But while one part of my brain - the logical part that has read and remembers all the self care posts that flit around the studyblr community - is telling me all these sensible things, the other part - the illogical one that’s making my breath short and my heart pound - is thinking about what it means if I can’t find my headphones.

I’m thinking about how if I can’t find my headphones then I can’t listen to music before I go to bed and if I ever do that I feel like I’ve not properly finished my day, like I’ve stopped halfway through a task. I hate it. And then if I can’t find my headphones tonight, I’m not going to be able find them tomorrow morning because I won’t have time. And if I don’t have them tomorrow morning, I won’t have them in school. And if I don’t have them in school, I won’t have them on the bus for my journey back home, which again feels like I’ve not done a task properly, like something is left incomplete somehow, and I’m going to have to sit in silence, looking every now and then at my phone and thinking and thinking about the fact that I don’t have my headphones. And then the cycle will continue to that evening when I can’t listen to music and to the next day on the bus. And it just repeats and repeats and repeats.

By this point I have looked in every draw in my desk, checked and rechecked my pencil case and school bag and almost completely unpacked all the clothes, makeup and other assorted items I’d only just packed in a big suitcase to go to my mum’s house. I have checked the laundry basket three times and every pocket in all the bags and still could not find my headphones.

I am now barely able to see cause I’m crying and my breaths are getting quicker and quicker. And my mind will just not stop thinking .

I can’t keep looking, I sit down on the edge of my bed and grab my phone. Through eyes blurry with tears I text my dad to come up to my room.

Then I realise, as soon as I press send, how stupid this problem sounds. I can’t find my headphones.

This just makes it worse.

My dad comes upstairs and talks me briefly through it. He tells me that he is sure he can find some of his headphones and anyway, he’ll go see if he can find them now. You just go finish getting ready for bed.

But I’m in such a state at this point that I can’t. So I check everything in my room again: all the pockets, the floor, mixed up with my clothes in my bag.

Finally, I recheck my laundry and I find my headphones, tucked away in the deep pocket of my skirt.

I cannot explain the relief I felt.

***

I was still feeling - am still feeling really - a bit shaky after it. And to be honest, now that I’ve blurted all this out, reached the end of my little story, I don’t really know what the point is.

I guess, I want people to remember that everyone experiences stress and anxiety and everybody experiences it in different ways and different severities. I want people to remember that all those self care posts are good and all (and tbh I’m probably going to keep reblogging them just in case somebody needs to read it) but in reality, if you’re panicking or you’re crying or anything like that, you’re probably not going to remember all that wonderful advice. Finally, I want people to remember that you are never truly alone. I always find this a bit patronising and, when I’m feeling really shit, I always think it’s wrong, but you really aren’t. Talk to your parents or those who you live with if you feel comfortable with that. Send a text to your best friend. Listen to music from your favourite singer at the loudest volume so it feels like they are right there with you. Message someone on tumblr (anyone can message me and I’ll try to help). Or maybe even write a tumblr post.

***

It is harder for me to think of people who haven’t had panic attacks, or breakdowns or anything similar in my own friend group in school than it is to think of people who haven’t. It’s so common and so accepted that it has almost become a joke- “oh last night I didn’t get much done, I had a breakdown while doing my chemistry homework- a levels! am I right?!??”

This is not okay.

But this not being the way education and teenagers mental health should be is not your fault

No matter what teachers, parents, friends or whoever else might say, you should never feel bad for the way you feel. You should never feel bad for feeling like you can’t cope or having a bad day. You should never feel bad for panicking, even for something as ‘stupid’ as losing your headphones.

Because if it makes you feel that way, then it’s not stupid. Not at all.

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pastelwitchling · 4 years

Text

25 Days of Fluff Day 6

Ship: Enes (Max x Alex)

If you enjoyed reading even a little bit, please reblog instead of just liking (and comment if you have the time!), it helps so much, and it would mean a lot 🎅🏻

***

“Hey, thanks for doing this with me,” Max said. “Liz is busy, and Michael and Isobel aren’t really big book fans.”

“It’s fine,” Alex smiled, moving fantasy and romance books into boxes. “It’s great, actually. I’ve always loved these stories.” He sighed. “And it feels good to help someone on Christmas.”

Max smiled to himself. He didn’t think the statement warranted such a warmth in his chest, but it was a small bookstore with overflowing shelves, the sun shined through the glass windows, revealing the dust as it flied off the covers, and the old woman behind the counter grinned at them over her steaming cup of tea. Max felt as if he and Alex belonged there somehow, as if they’d grown up between these walls together; this small, forgotten piece of their small town.

He chuckled as he picked up a smaller book, its binding old and tattered. “Alex, look at this.”

Alex, holding onto his own few books, checked the cover and gasped softly. “‘The Little Prince.’ I used to love this book.”

“Me, too,” Max said. “‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; It is only with the heart that one can see rightly –”

“—what is essential is invisible to the eye,’” Alex finished with a soft smile, reaching out to touch the little blond boy on the cover as if he reminded Alex of someone he once knew.

Alex was not short by any means, but it did something to Max’s chest to have those few extra inches on the airman, to catch his eyes as they glimmered to gold in the sunlight, to witness his hard edges, sharpened around others all the time – as if he didn’t dare rest – now turned soft in this cozy little place.

“I bet the kids will love it, too,” he said, and at that, Alex looked up, his smile widening. Max didn’t think he’d ever seen Alex genuinely smile this much before. He realized he was staring, and looked away, clearing his throat. “Uh – what’s that?”

“Oh,” Alex glanced at the books in his hands, and hid them behind his back. “Oh – er – nothing, just some Shakespeare sonnets.”

“Really?” he felt the beginnings of a smirk tug at his lips. “Oh great, I love Shakespeare. Can I see?”

But they were already laughing, and Alex was already backing away. “No, do not come near me,” he warned.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Alex.”

“Look, it’s not a big deal, okay?”

“Then let me see the books.” He tried to reach behind Alex, but even with the prosthetic, the airman was quick. He stepped under Max’s arm, and in an instant, had his back against the counter.

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t!”

“No!”

“Jane Austen,” the old woman suddenly said, her eyes squinted at the titles. “He’s got that Persuasion book, and – what – Sense and Sensibility?”

Alex’s shoulders slumped as Max reached him with a laugh, taking the books from his hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Carol,” the airman said.

“Honey, if he mocks Jane Austen, dump him,” she chuckled, heading to the backdoor. “That’s just good sense.”

“No, Mrs. Carol, we’re not together.”

“Uh – sorry, we’re not actually dating,” Max and Alex said at once, but the old woman had retreated to the other room. “Aaand she’s gone. Well, uh, if it’s any consolation, I love Jane Austen.” For some reason, Max found he was suddenly unable to look at Alex. “But I – uh – I never pegged you for a romance fan.”

Alex chuckled, the sound different than before. Quieter. “If it’s done well. Good love stories are… rare.” He gently plucked the books back out of Max’s hands. “But if you think about telling anybody, just know that I’m still enlisted, and I have friends in the Air Force that can hack even your dental records. You don’t want me to have all of that information, Evans.”

Max laughed. “It’ll be our secret.” He hesitated, then, making as if he was preoccupied with the books, said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. I love this place, but it could do with some holiday cheer.”

Alex raised a brow, his smile returning to place, and all of a sudden, Max felt like a genius. “What did you have in mind?”

He shrugged. “A tree? Tinsel?”

“Some lights?” Alex offered, and Max’s smile widened.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I mean, I’d have to check in with Mrs. Carol, but I think she’d be fine if I came over tomorrow and put some things up. Would you… maybe like to help me?”

Alex blinked. “Oh – uh – sure, yeah.”

“I mean, you don’t have to –”

“No, no, really I’d like to –”

“I just thought it might be fun –”

“Max, I,” he chuckled, and Max looked to find him busying himself with another box, the sun shining off his hair, bathing him in gold. “I want to. I think you’re right. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” Max breathed, and this time, for whatever reason (one he chose not to think about too much), he found he could not look away.

***

Don’t mind me. Just catching up.

#25DaysofFluff #MerryChristmasRNM #max x alex #enes #max evans #alex manes #enes one shot #enes fanfic #enes fic #enes fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #enes fluff #nathan parsons #tyler blackburn

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emmerrr · 5 years

Note

heyyyy if you wanna write a pynch vday fic, how about one where they're like... both trying to be sneaky about planning sth for valentines day and so both think the other has forgotten about it and they're both like ://// but it all uhh works out in the end?? x

what a top notch suggestion, absoLUTELY i can write that 💕💕 (uhh heads up this got kinda long, i’ll put it on ao3 too and reblog with a link later)

Adam sat alone in a corner booth of Nino’s, History notes open on the table before him. He’d written VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin, underlined three times. He frowned at the words, wondering why he was fixating on them, and turned his head to stare listlessly out of the window instead.

Blue was there working, but she’d been too busy to come and say hello so far, simply offering him a harried wave when she spotted him walk in, pointing him towards the table he was now seated at. The other staff at Nino’s never bothered them anymore, knowing Blue would cover their table. Adam had heard them being referred to as “Blue’s Boys” on more than one occasion.

He was currently the only one there, having beaten Henry and Gansey out of the school gates. He assumed they’d got held up by a traffic light or two, and Ronan had further to drive than the rest of them so would likely arrive last anyway.

Thinking of Ronan immediately returned Adam’s thoughts to the words written in his notes and he scowled at the parking lot. On the surface, Valentine’s Day didn’t seem like it would be Ronan’s thing. Adam wasn’t even particularly sure it was his thing. But the fact remained that Valentine’s Day was a week away, and Adam didn’t know what, if anything, he was expected to do for it.

He tried to think back to previous years and remembered receiving an anonymous card from someone back in the seventh grade; a generic heart-shaped thing that simply said ‘Will you be my Valentine? x’ inside. He was fairly certain the sender was a girl in his English class who had never said a word to him but blushed every time she caught his eye. Adam didn’t see how he was supposed to answer whether or not he’d be her Valentine if she never told him she had sent it. And of course, she never owned up, and he didn’t want to suggest it was her in case he was wrong, and he didn’t actually want to be her Valentine anyway. So it was never mentioned again.

The difference here was that Ronan was his actual boyfriend. Didn’t that mean that they were each other’s Valentines by default, then?

Adam didn’t know. He’d never navigated Valentine’s Day before. Not like this.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Henry and Gansey approach until they were right there.

“Oh, History notes,” Henry exclaimed. “Can I borrow them?”

Adam turned his head to see Henry already sliding the notebook towards him. “Your notes are always make more sense than mi—” Henry cut himself off, eyes widening at something on the page. Too late Adam remembered the VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin and slapped his hand over it, snatching back his notebook.

Henry was grinning at him. “Big plans?”

“No,” Adam muttered. “No plans at all.” He stuffed the notebook into his messenger bag.

Gansey had slid into the booth opposite Adam and watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing, apparently,” Henry said easily. Adam was grateful that Henry clearly wasn’t going to push it (at least not with an audience), but reasoned he could perhaps use some advice.

“So,” he started. “Valentine’s Day. Thoughts?”

“I’m glad you asked, Parrish,” Gansey said. “It was originally a Western Christian feast day honouring a couple of early saints called Valentinius—”

“Yes, thank you, Captain Wikipedia,” Henry cut in. “I’m not entirely sure that’s what he meant.”

A jug of Iced Tea was plonked onto the table without ceremony and they all looked up to Blue Sargent as she handed out glasses.

“It’s a dumb holiday invented by Hallmark to sell more cards,” she said, obviously having heard the tail-end of the conversation.

“Well, obviously there’s that too,” Gansey said, beaming at her.

Adam sighed. They were all monumentally unhelpful.

“Why the interest, Adam?” Blue asked, a knowing glint in her eye.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just…okay, with Ronan, do I just treat it like any other day? Do I get him a card? Will he think it’s stupid? Do I think it’s stupid?”

There was a short silence as the three of them blinked back at him, and then Blue carefully said, “Do you think it’s stupid?”

Adam wasn’t sure how to answer that. The truth was that he sort of did think it was stupid, but he also thought he wanted to acknowledge it anyway. He thought doing nothing at all kind of made him look like an asshole.

In the end, it all circled back to Ronan, and whether he would care. Did he have anything planned? Was he having an internal crisis over it as well?

In lieu of an answer, Adam shrugged again.

“Speak of the devil,” Henry said, and nodded towards the entrance.

Ronan, dressed all in black (of course), had just stepped inside. He scanned the restaurant without turning his head but when he spotted Adam, his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled just a little.

Adam didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that.

“Oh god, you two are the worst,” Blue scoffed as Ronan started to make his way over.

“What?” Adam said without looking at her.

“You know exactly what, Adam Parrish. You and Ronan with the googly eyes. Jesus Christ, you’re in public. Tone it down.”

“You tone it down,” Ronan said jovially, hip-checking Blue as he drew level. “What are we talking about?”

“The origins of Valentine’s Day,” Gansey said delicately.

Ronan snorted derisively. “Valentine’s Day,” he said with as much scorn as he could muster, “is capitalistic bullshit invented to sell cards and flowers and chocolate.”

“Hey man, that’s exactly what I said,” Blue said, sounding pleased, and she and Ronan fist-bumped. Adam rolled his eyes. They really were two sides of the same coin.

“You’re in my seat, Cheng,” Ronan said.

“Sit by Gansey, I was here first.”

Ronan shrugged. “Fair’s fair.” He stepped up onto the seat and over Henry and squeezed into the spot between him and Adam.

“Ronan Lynch,” Gansey hissed. “You’ll get us kicked out!”

“Calm down, Dick, no one noticed,” Ronan said. He had both arms stretched out across the back of the booth, and Adam and Henry were both leaning into him a little thanks to the lack of space.

“This is cozy,” Henry said cheerfully.

It was Blue’s turn to roll her eyes and she pulled her little notepad out of her apron pocket. “Alright, I have to actually do my job now, what do you want? Gansey, I’m assuming you want your usual half-avocado monstrosity?”

“You’re a millennial, Blue, you’re supposed to like avocados.”

Her disgusted expression was answer enough. The rest of them rattled off their food order and then Blue went off to put it through.

“Doesn’t anyone want to come and sit by me?” Gansey asked. “It’s lonely over here.”

“Oh, don’t pull that face, Gansey, you’re making me sad,” Henry said, swapping sides. He scooched right the way over to Gansey and draped an arm around his shoulder before sighing loftily. “It’s hard being this popular.”

“But someone has to do it,” Adam said drily, earning him a quicksilver smile.

“And I do it so well.”

Ronan was stopping at Adam’s for the night, but they had each come to Nino’s in their own cars so separated in the parking lot to drive over to St Agnes in a convoy.

Ronan was already peeling out of the lot by the time Adam reached his shitbox, and he was held up further by Henry calling his name. He turned and Henry jogged over, Gansey nowhere to be seen and most likely still inside saying goodbye to Blue.

“Oh, sorry,” Adam said. “You wanted my History notes, right?”

“No, that’s not — well, yeah, actually, thank you,” he said, taking them when Adam handed them over. “I actually came over here to give you some unsolicited advice.”

“About the Valentine’s Day thing?”

“That’s the one.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s not entirely unsolicited. But anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You heard him.”

“Yeah, I heard him. Sounds like posturing to me.”

Adam tilted his head to the side. “You think?” Ronan certainly was prone to posturing.

“Sure. I mean, I have no doubt that he really does think Valentine’s Day is what he said in there, but I wouldn’t let that put you off doing something, if you wanted to.” Henry waited for a response, and when Adam didn’t offer one, he prompted, “You do want to, don’t you?”

Adam smiled wryly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you know what to look for,” Henry said, but before Adam could think on that too much, he continued. “Look, I don’t know Ronan as well as you do, but even from the outside, it’s clear how he feels about you.”

Feeling himself blush, Adam immediately looked down at the ground. He did know how Ronan felt about him. It was often whispered to him in the middle of the night when it felt like they were the only two people in the world. It just took him off guard to hear it so plainly from someone else.

“Think about it, Adam. Regardless of how Ronan personally feels about what Valentine’s Day stands for, do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?” Henry shook his head. “Not the Ronan Lynch I know.”

Well, when it was put that way. “Did he say something to you? Do you know something?”

“Not a thing,” Henry said, and Adam believed him. “It’s just an observation and an educated guess.”

“Huh,” Adam said thoughtfully. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them in the air, catching them again, ideas already forming in his head. If Ronan was going to be obnoxious, Adam could be obnoxious too. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t lose my notes.”

“I will try my level best.”

Adam gave himself three rules for Ronan’s Valentine’s gift:

1) It had to be heartfelt.

2) It also had to be in good humour and not take itself too seriously.

3) It had to be cheap.

He was too sensible to spend money he didn’t have on some arbitrary gift Ronan wouldn’t appreciate. Not to mention that Ronan was impossible enough to buy for as it was; firstly he was rich enough to buy himself pretty much anything he might want, and secondly he could literally manifest his dreams. It was going to make future birthdays and Christmas’s an absolute nightmare.

(But what a wonderful problem to have.)

What it all basically meant was that Adam had to go homemade, and given that he had school and work (and Ronan) to work around, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to do it.

He borrowed Gansey’s laptop during lunch-break on Monday at Aglionby and made Ronan a mix-CD of the cheesiest love songs he could think of. It featured such classics as You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oates, Heaven by Bryan Adams, True by Spandau Ballet, and many, many more. It wasn’t even remotely Ronan’s kind of music which made it funny, but as embarrassing as some of the songs might have been, they did actually somewhat echo Adam’s own feelings. He got to be a sap in the guise of it being a joke, and Ronan would get a kick out of it.

Obviously, he also added the Murder Squash Song for good measure.

Next up was a card. He could have bought one — his budget would have allowed it — but all the store ones were godawful and Adam couldn’t even imagine giving one of them to Ronan ironically.

Luckily he had an ace up his sleeve.

The first time that Ronan had stayed over at Adam’s after they were together in the very early days of their relationship, Adam had woken up to a frozen Ronan with a handful of strangely lovely flowers, the exact shade of blue as Adam’s eyes.

Adam had kept them in a cheap vase on the windowsill until they died, but unbeknownst to Ronan, he’d also taken one and pressed it to make a little print; his own private memento.

He was obviously keeping the original for himself, but he took it into the school library a couple of days before Valentine’s Day and scanned it, printing it out on some high quality photo card he’d ‘acquired’ from one of the Art rooms.

Once the ink was dry, he folded it down the middle as carefully as possible and put it inside his heaviest textbook to keep it folded and flat until he got it home.

He spent longer than probably necessary trying to decide what to write, but in the end, he went with:

Ronan,

I think maybe it was always you. I think it always will be. Happy Valentine’s Day (gross).

Love, Adam x

He didn’t have a nice envelope to put it in, so it had to go in a bigger manila one that Adam still had lying around. He slipped both the card and the CD inside, and wrote Ronan’s name in capitals on the outside.

He looked at his offering. It somehow didn’t seem enough.

Valentine’s Day was on Thursday, so on Wednesday— after school but before a shift at Boyd’s— Adam found himself in the kitchen of 300 Fox Way. He’d bought everything he needed to make chocolate brownies before he’d realised he didn’t have a tin in which to cook them in. He was also severely lacking in several other kitchen utensils, to be honest. One panicked phone-call to Blue later, and he had everything he needed and a helping hand.

Well, ‘helping’ was a strong word.

“Why brownies?” Blue asked from where she sat perched on the kitchen table.

“Because brownies are the best,” Adam said, frowning at the recipe he had printed out.

“Alright, can’t argue with that,” Blue said reasonably.

Adam was aware of her watching him while he slowly got out everything he needed and started weighing out ingredients. He felt unreasonably nervous about it, even though he knew that provided he followed the recipe, everything would be fine. Baking was a science, after all, and Adam was good at science.

But looking at it all now with Blue scrutinising his every move, he felt flustered and unmoored.

“I thought you were going to help,” he said pointedly.

“I am helping. I’m supervising,” Blue said.

Adam smiled at that. “I see. Are you the kind of supervisor who can grease this tin for me?”

“I suppose so,” Blue said loftily as she launched herself off the table.

Blue started chattering away after that which helped Adam calm down and focus on what he was doing, and it didn’t take long to make the mixture after that. Adam tilted the pan while Blue used a wooden spoon to scrape the mixture out and into the brownie tin.

After that, they just had to put it in the oven and wait.

Blue brewed up some of Maura’s least offensive tea as they sat and waited, and Adam finally asked what he’d been dying to all week.

“Do you know if Ronan has anything planned?”

Blue smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, Adam, I have absolutely no idea. He hasn’t said a word. I’ve barely seen him though, and never really without you there.” She shrugged. “If he’s got a plan he’s keeping it close to his chest.”

Adam nodded; he’d assumed as much. “I just want to know if I’m doing too much, or not doing enough? I dunno, it’s stupid. It’s only Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, but it’s your first Valentine’s Day together,” Blue said, not unkindly. “I get it.”

“What are you and Gansey doing?”

“I made him a card and found him a couple of ‘slovenly’ t-shirts at the thrift store. I’m gonna hazard a guess that he’s getting me flowers, and he told me to keep the evening free so he’s probably taking me somewhere. Wherever it is, it better not be expensive.”

Adam grinned. “Maybe it’s Nino’s.”

“God, don’t even joke, I’d murder him. Again.”

He started to laugh, and after a couple of seconds Blue joined in. When it died down, Blue put her hand on his arm.

“Don’t overthink it, Adam. Ronan will love whatever you give him, because you’re the one it’s coming from. It’s not about the gifts you get or the meal you have or how much money you spend. I think it’s more about the gesture. That’s what’ll mean the most to Ronan.”

Adam managed a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Blue opened a drawer and gasped, then pulled out a heart-shaped cookie cutter. “Oh my God, Adam, you have to.”

She held out the cookie-cutter towards him and he took it, sighing. “Really?”

“Yes! This way, they’ll all be exactly the same size and I get to eat all the cut-offs. Y’know, as my fee for helping.”

And that’s how Adam ended up with nine perfect little heart-shaped brownies.

Adam didn’t see Ronan that night, thanks to finishing late at Boyd’s and then having homework after.

When he woke up in the morning, he was hit by the realisation that he and Ronan hadn’t even arranged to see each other that day at all.

He half expected Ronan to show up at St Agnes unannounced with a bouquet of dream flowers and some donuts or something. But that didn’t happen, and Adam slowly packed his messenger bag for school, remembering to include the Tupperware of Valentine’s brownies and the envelope with its enclosed card and CD.

He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to give them to Ronan, but it was better to be prepared.

Adam walked down to his car, scanning the parking lot and the street to see if there was any sign of a shark-nosed BMW. But there was nothing, and there was nothing on the way to school, and Adam made it all the way through to lunch without seeing or hearing from Ronan.

Obviously, he had no phone, and Ronan hated his own phone. But Gansey had a phone, and Ronan could have got in touch that way if he had felt so inclined.

Adam didn’t know what he’d been expecting; that Ronan would show up at the Aglionby gates with a boombox over his head blasting out Lionel Richie songs? That he’d get back to his car after school and find out his favourite hooligan had broken in and left him a giant teddy bear and a box of chocolates?

It all seemed stupid now, and Valentine’s Day was stupid, and Adam was irritated that he’d let the pressures of the day get to him. It didn’t matter. It was a meaningless day.

So why did he feel so deflated?

At the end of the day, he caved and asked to borrow Gansey’s phone.

First, he sent a text that said: it’s adam, i’m about to call you so answer the phone

He gave it a minute until he’d seen that Ronan had read the message, and then pressed the call button.

“Parrish,” Ronan said in lieu of a hello.

All at once, like always, Adam was happy to hear Ronan’s voice. And yet he still couldn’t quite shake his irritation, even though the one who’d got his hopes up was himself.

“Hey,” he replied. “Listen, were you planning on coming over tonight?”

“Nope.” It was a little difficult to tell, but Adam thought Ronan’s tone was just a little off. “You come here.”

Adam sighed. “Ronan, I have school tomorrow so I wouldn’t even be able to stay that late. Can’t you just come here?”

There was a long pause. “Opal wants to see you.”

“So bring her with you.”

“Are you kidding, Parrish, she’s filthy. She’ll mess up the interior.”

The BMW wasn’t exactly spotless inside so this seemed a flimsy excuse. Adam started to wonder whether Ronan even wanted to see him at all.

“If you don’t want to see me today that’s fine,” he said, tone clipped.

“I didn’t say that,” Ronan said, tone just as clipped.

It felt like they were heading for a fight. Adam didn’t want to fight. He wanted to give Ronan the stupid sentimental CD he’d made. He wanted Ronan to make fun of him for the brownies. He wanted a hug.

Adam was abruptly exhausted, and it didn’t matter that he’d gone to the effort and Ronan hadn’t. He just wanted to see him.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna go home and shower but then I’ll head over to you.”

“Okay, good. See you in a bit,” Ronan said, and hung up.

The sun was down by the time Adam pulled up at the Barns. The heating in Adam’s car was dodgy enough on a good today, and today wasn’t a good day. It had barely come on, so his hands were like ice as he got out of the car.

He walked straight in when he got there and made his way to the kitchen. He hovered in the doorway; Ronan’s back was to him, a tea towel strewn over one shoulder, straining pasta over the sink.

Adam rapped his knuckles against the door-frame and Ronan turned around.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Adam replied. “You cooked?”

Ronan shrugged. “It’s just spaghetti.” He gestured to Adam’s messenger bag. “You brought homework with you?”

All that was in the bag was the Valentine’s gifts for Ronan, and he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay,” Ronan said with another shrug. “Sit. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Adam pulled himself a chair out, and it scraped against the floor noisily in the otherwise quiet. He waited for Ronan to finish serving up and then asked, “Where’s Opal?”

“No idea. Haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

Adam took a bite of his food. It was good. “I thought you said she wanted to see me.”

“She always wants to see you,” Ronan said smoothly. “I’m sure she’ll turn up when she spots your car.”

They finished eating in near silence, Adam waiting for Ronan to say something— anything— to acknowledge the day. But he didn’t, and the longer the silence dragged, the harder it seemed to break it.

Adam started towards the sink to do the washing up afterwards, but Ronan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Just leave it, Parrish.”

“But—”

“Leave them. I’ll do them in the morning.”

Adam sighed, uncomfortable in the tension. He didn’t know what to do now. Did Ronan just want him to leave? And if so, why had he told him to come in the first place?

“Look, do you know what day it is?” Adam asked, unable to take it any longer.

“It’s Thursday,” Ronan said, chin jutted out, arms crossed. Adam glared; Ronan clearly knew exactly what day it was.

“Okay, great,” Adam said tiredly. He opened his bag and pulled out the Tupperware and the envelope. “Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.”

He put them on the table and stepped away, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He watched Ronan’s face, the expression on which had softened immediately. He looked to Adam, stricken.

“Parrish, I—”

“It’s fine, Ronan, just open them.”

Ronan snapped his mouth shut, and pulled the envelope over to him. Adam immediately felt self-conscious about his meagre homemade gifts.

“It’s not much,” he said quickly.

Ronan’s only response to this was a slight furrow in his brow. Then he took the CD out, quirking a smile at Adam’s inscription: LYNCH’S CHEESY LOVE SONG SINGALONG. It was surrounded by lots of hand drawn love-hearts that Adam now thought seemed excessive.

Ronan looked up and raised an eyebrow at Adam, a half-smirk on his face. “No track-list, Parrish?”

“It’s a surprise,” Adam said, smiling weakly, but relieved. “You’ll have to play it to find out.”

“I’ll do that,” he said with a sage nod. He put the CD down and reached for the Tupperware, pulling the lid off and tossing it aside. He looked inside and snorted. “You’ve really stuck with a theme here, huh, Parrish?”

“Hey, Valentine’s Day is all about the hearts, apparently. And to be fair, the heart-shaped brownies are Blue’s fault. She found a cookie-cutter and insisted.”

“She knew about this?” Ronan said.

“Yeah, she helped me make them.”

“That little sneak...” Ronan trailed off and let out a sharp laugh. “I asked her if she knew whether or not you were doing something, and she swore blind she had no idea.”

Adam thought about asking why Ronan had even wanted to know, but instead he pointed at the envelope. “There’s a card in there, as well.”

“In here?” Ronan turned the envelope upside down and the card slipped out into his hand. Adam watched as he took in the flower on the front, smiled a little, then did a double-take, glancing at Adam. “Hold on. Is this what I think it is?”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh, I pressed one, before they all died. I wanted to keep it, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, something akin to awe in his voice. “I dream about them all the time.” He opened the card and read what Adam had written there, then dropped his face into his hands.

“Parrish...” he mumbled. “I feel like a fucking asshole.”

Adam went over and gently pulled the card out of Ronan’s hand, sitting down on Ronan’s lap. Ronan’s arms circled his waist automatically and he tucked his face into Adam’s neck.

“You are a fucking asshole, Lynch. I love you anyway.”

Ronan grumbled something incoherently against Adam’s skin, and Adam smiled. “What was that?”

Ronan lifted his head so he could be heard. “I said I love you right back.”

“Good,” Adam said.

“I thought you’d forgotten. And I didn’t...I didn’t want a big deal, and this day is a fucking joke or whatever, but you didn’t mention anything. And I even thought you might borrow Gansey’s phone and like, text me or something this morning? But then you didn’t and when you finally called me you sounded annoyed and I didn’t know why, and I didn’t even think you wanted to come over. So then you finally got here and you seemed mad, and so I was mad and...I’m sorry. I was here thinking you didn’t give a shit and you made stuff for me?” He hung his head, penitent. “I love my gifts. These lame brownies smell great. I’m fucking sorry, Parrish.”

“Hey.” Adam cupped Ronan’s head in his hands. “It’s fine that you didn’t get me anything. Honestly I think I just let this whole day get into my head as having to mean something when it doesn’t. I don’t need a special day to let you know how I feel. And I’m sorry if I seemed mad. I just didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

He leaned in and kissed Ronan briefly. “And Lynch, you cooked for me. You made me a whole meal. I’m pretty sure we’re even.” He kissed him again, until Ronan pulled back and covered Adam’s hands with his own.

“Um...you should come with me,” Ronan said, and he almost sounded sheepish.

They stood up and Ronan swiped the mix CD off the table and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie, before taking Adam’s hand and leading him out the back door.

Confused but intrigued, Adam followed closely behind, clutching tight to Ronan’s fingers. It was cold outside and neither of them had their coats on, which Adam was about to point out when they walked around the corner of the nearest barn and he was rendered speechless by the sight before him.

In the middle of the grass was a small gazebo tent, the base of which was covered in luxurious looking blankets. There was a laptop in the middle of the floor, hooked up to a projector which was pointing at the outer-wall of the barn. A precarious tower of DVDs was piled up next to the laptop; Adam couldn’t see the titles from here but imagined Ronan had assembled a variety of choices. There was a big thermos, contents unknown (coffee? Hot chocolate?), and various other treats; big bags of marshmallows and Hershey’s Kisses and Reese’s Mini Peanut-Butter Cups.

And everywhere, there was light. Ronan’s twinkling little dream lights, some in jars under the gazebo, others hanging in the air, changing colour, like little fireflies.

“Ronan,” Adam finally managed hoarsely. “What the fuck?”

Ronan smirked. “You thought I hadn’t done anything.”

“Uh, yeah, because you let me think that!” Adam said. He was struggling to process how cosy and romantic it all looked. Let it never be said that Ronan Lynch wasn’t an absolute sap.

“I didn’t let you think anything, you jumped to that conclusion all on your own.”

Adam scowled. “Now I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t,” Ronan said, pressing a kiss to Adam’s temple. “Anyway, this is nothing.”

“It is so far from nothing,” Adam said. He stepped forward and took a turn around, taking everything in as he walked in a slow circle, stopping when he was facing Ronan again. “I thought Valentine’s Day was capitalistic bullshit?”

“Oh, it is,” Ronan said happily. “But for one, I didn’t spend a penny. And two, a whole day where I can spoil you as much as I want to and you don’t get to complain about it? Sign me the fuck up for that.”

Adam burst out laughing. “You’ve just reminded me of something Henry said.”

“What did he say?”

“I told him that I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d do anything because we hadn’t talked about it, and he said, and I quote: ‘do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?’”

Ronan was grinning now. “Cheng’s pretty smart.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. He caught one of the floating lights in his hand and then let it go again. “Just for the record, I think your dreaming abilities give you an unfair advantage when it comes to stuff like this.”

“Excuse you, Parrish, the only thing I dreamt up was the blankets because they’re heated. Oh, and the projector. And the gazebo. But that’s it.”

“‘That’s it’, he says.” Adam rolled his eyes, then accusingly added, “You dreamt up the lights.”

“Well, yeah, but not for this. I already had those. And the food was stuff I already had in the house, and the DVDs are ones I already own. I didn’t want to go overboard.”

Adam stared. “You are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Come here.”

Ronan went, without question or hesitation, and Adam wrapped his arms around his neck.

“This is the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Ronan whispered, kissing a line up Adam’s neck and across his face, the tip of his nose, his forehead, “for the brownies, for what you wrote in the card...Jesus, Adam. It’s the same for me. You know that, right? It’s always you.”

Adam squeezed tighter, feeling dangerously overcome. He breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of Ronan, and then released his grip. “And for the CD, obviously,” he said.

“Of course,” Ronan said, and smiled sharply. “Speaking of...” He pulled it out of his pocket and walked over to his laptop. “I’ll let you pick a movie in a bit, but first, I wanna listen to my present.”

He popped the CD into the drive and pressed a couple of buttons on the mouse, and a moment later the opening track started to play: I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.

Ronan laughed, once, soundlessly, then came back over to Adam and held his hand out.

“Well?” he said when Adam didn’t move. “Are you dancing?”

Adam grinned. “Are you asking?”

“I’m asking.”

“Then I’m dancing.” He took Ronan’s hand and together they swayed, far too slowly for a song this upbeat, but Ronan didn’t seem to mind, and Adam certainly didn’t.

They didn’t speak while they were dancing, both perhaps a little shaken at the near-miss of an argument, both relieved they hadn’t let it get that far. Both content to be in each other’s company, away from prying eyes and expectations.

It was still early days. They were still learning how to do this, navigating firsts and futures and each other, but they were both quick studies, and Adam couldn’t think of anything more worthwhile than building a foundation— and a life— with Ronan.

There were trickier days to come, but for now, they’d survived their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. As they lay curled together in a blanket watching The Princess Bride projected onto the side of a barn, Adam thought he’d have to mark this one down as a win.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Parrish,” Ronan whispered into Adam’s hair.

“Ugh,” Adam said, and kissed him. “Happy Thursday.”

#the raven cycle #pynch #tumblr prompts #lesbianparrish #adamparrishes #trc

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kmp78 · 5 years

Text

TO ALL YOU READERS OUT THERE.

As we all know, on Dec 17 aka tomorrow new über-sensitive rules on tumblr kick in, which means all content their bots/algoritms regard as "unsuitable" will be banished from the platform. 😒

Seeing as I have almost 4 years worth of posts in my archives amounting to a grand total of tens of thousands of posts overall, there is no way for me to go over all of them and remove potentially forbidden ones.

And frankly I wouldn't even know where to start, since we have not been given any concrete guidelines regarding words/pics which "might" need to be deleted, and even if I did have guidelines to work with, the task would be too huge to undertake.

I can find over 1000 posts with the search word "P * r n" and that's just a fraction of the kinds of contents I imagine might need to be removed (one by one, of course), so that gives you an idea of the scale for that task... 😶

Yeah, there's just no possibility for me to do that.

Therefore there is a very good chance that when I wake up tomorrow morning, this blog will no longer exist.

It won't be by my choice, as I don't have any desire to retire from this project, but I can't fight against the powers of the admins on this one. 😔

So, in case that happens, I just want to say a few things while I still can.

First, a MASSIVE thank you to all who have read this blog (just on/off or regularly) and especially to those who have contributed to the making of this blog via asks, submits, reblogs and private chats. Without your contributions this blog would not be what it is (in good and in bad...), and I have no doubt that without your assistance in providing content, I would have left a long time ago.

Altho, in a cruel twist of fate, many of those provided contents will no doubt now be the reason for this blog's demise... 😂🙊

But tbh I'm not even upset about it, because the amount of entertaiment and laughs we have shared over here over the past 4 years could never be measured in money or any other form of currency.

Same of course goes for the amount of tears and aggro shared here... 😝

And speaking of which: let me just give a big ol' "F U C K Y O U and I wish nothing but the absolute worst in life for you and yours and if I saw you on fire on the street I'd struggle to even piss on you to put out the flames, you useless blob of floating diarrhea" shoutout to each and every disgusting c u n t out there who I have had the misfortune of sparring with over the years.

No need to name names.

YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND YOU MOST DEFINITELY KNOW WHY I DESPISE THE LIVING SH*T OUT OF YOU.

You folks, with your pathetic fanfics and truly insane "HE'S GAIIIIIIIIII, YANNO!!!!" desperado'ing etc. and especially that one Aussie psycho and the yankee-doodle liverspotty "My BFF Aka The Old Hag Tooootes Is Ferking JL" bulldog (seriously SEEK PSYCHIATRIC HELP IMMEDIATELY), are a true waste of oxygen and pathetic testament to what a sad conglomerate of mentally challenged retards aka SFGs this fandom is.

Whatever misfortunes life tosses your way, just know you've truly deserved it. This "snow N- word" girl from "a 3rd world country across the Atlantic" has enjoyed laughing at and ridiculing/exposing your embarrassing asses here (especially those of you who turned on me for whatever reason), and will continue to do so forever. Your hilarious insanity will never be forgotten. 😙😙😙✌

No kidding, folks: your mothers FOR REALS should have spat you out.

Or maybe swallowed... 🤔 I dunno what kind of sticky-bottom slaggies your mumzies are/were so yeah maybe a good gulp would've been more her MO. 🤷🏼‍♀️

A special shoutout indeed to all those who befriended me for years and know FULL WELL what bull manure this fandom and Leto are, but still woke up one morning and decided to start hating everything about me (for reasons which are still baffling for me): you disgust me and quite honestly make me a bit sad. You USED to be sane and sensible, until the kool-aid kicked in.

Perhaps one day the magic will wear off and you'll come back to your senses again, altho for most of you I don't hold out much hope... oh well, it's not like anyone's life would be worse off without you in it. Mine certainly hasn't been! 🤣

And to all those countless fools out there who wasted their time creating fake accts with my name and pics hoping I'd quit: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂.

I hope at some point in life you look back on your actions and realize how insane you stalkers were to obsess (yes, obsess) over me.

Your efforts really got you nowhere... ⛔

Oh no wait I got major laughs and kicks from ridiculing you, so yeah you did get that far. 😂

You deserve to feel #proud . 🙏

If I'm worthy of THAT MUCH attention from you...

Damn, I must be quite awesome! 😎

(I am, actually. 🙃 Oh and I also like pizza, with pineapples and a slice of Leto... 🍕😂😎)

And then on the other side of the fence:

I could never fully express my gratitude and appreciation to the people who I have become friendly with over these years.

You also know who you are, and I will be reaching out to you via private chat later today! 😉

Honestly, you have been the absolute best thing about this entire experience and I'll value the times and experiences we have spent together for the rest of my life. 💓

The support I have received both publicly and especially privately from many out there (some I still have the pleasure of keeping in touch with, and some who have sadly faded into the distance) has been much appreciated and I hope you all realize it.

THIS community is leaps and bounds superior to the actual Mars one.

Thank you for the laughs, the freak-outs, the arguments, the secrets, for taking part in my competitions and puzzlers, for reading my Finland posts, for suggesting non-Mars topics, for sharing personal stories...

It has been one hell of a trip! 😂

I wish you folks nothing but the best and if this is the end, then perhaps at some point, somewhere out there, our paths shall cross again! 😉😘

My IG acct ( @kmp78 ) will remain (unless they too see it worthy of deleting...), so that's where you'll find me if all else fails! 😜

Also my secondary acct here ( @kmp78secondaryblog ) will remain UNLESS it's also taken down by the admins.

And of course my e-mail ( [email protected] ) also reaches me in the future, as well as my Twitter ( @kmp78obvs ).

And with that... well, there's not much else to say, I guess. The situation is what it is. 😞

Have a nice Sunday, everyone!

God willing we will meet again tomorrow. If not, then c'est la vie! 😘👋

With much ❤❤❤ (or perhaps🖕🖕🖕, depending on reader),

#personal #tumblr ban #thank you

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afaimsarrowverse · 3 years

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My 25 Favorite Arrowverse-Moments:

Scenes that emmideatly come to mind over all the six shows and that stuck with us – those are the moments found here. For the 25 Favorite Ones I mostly went with emotional scenes and scenes that started or ended amazing character developements. Many moments here are relationship based, however most of them are actually sad. So beware.

Again as always, this list reflects my own taste, everyone loves what they love. So don’t commment or reblog just to tell me how wrong I am.

25. Kate keeps the dying Alice company, but realizes that Beth had just died instead (Batwoman Episode 1.12 Take Your Choice)

That one is tricky to explain, if you have not seen the episode, but basically Alice is dying because a doppelganger of her showed up on Earth Prime. Only one Beth Kane can survive, and Kate chooses to save the sane version of her sister from another Earth over her actual sister, whom she decides to keep company in her last moments. However the twist on this death scene is that Alice suddenly gets better, because Beth was assassinated, and the sisters have to move on from this incident afterwards, with the knowledge that Kate chose the other one over her „real“ sister, which of course changed their relationship on a fundamental level forever, or you know, would have, if the show would have actually gotten a real second season. Still it’s quite an unusal death scene with a twist we would have liked in any other death scene, but not so much here.

24. Oliver gets visited by Tommy‘s Ghost (Arrow Episode 2.9 Three Ghosts)

It’s Christmas and Oliver is haunted by the ghosts of his past. After Shado and Slade in this scenes it’s Tommy‘s turn, who tells Oliver exactly what he needs to hear, and what he wished he would have heared from Tommy, when he was still alive:. „"I know I called you a murderer, but you are not. You are a hero. You beat the island. You beat my father. So fight, Oliver. Get up and fight back." And you know, it probably is exactly what Tommy would have said to him, if he would have had the chance. After all Ghost Tommy became kind of an interesting occurence later, so maybe he wasn’t so much a ghost as an projection from an Alternate Universe?

23. Nate’s Resurrection (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 4.16 Hey World)

Nate dies to get Ray his soul (and body) back and is reunited with his dead father, and we think that’s it, while Zari and Ray sob over his dead body, but now with a little bit of help from the Great Beyond, John and Nora magic him back to life with the power of song and love from humans, magical creatures, and the Legenda alike. And it’s beautiful. Boy, did I sob.

22. Oliver meets his Grown Up Children (Arrwo Episode 8.4 Present Tense)

Brought to the Present by the Monitor, Mia and William get to meet their long dead father Oliver shortly before his death. „Present Tense“ started with this akward-moving reunion that we have been waiting for since that tireying Flashforwards started in Season 7, and starting with this scene they are finally paying of in a big way. „Arrow“ was seldom any better than this.

21. Mick gives Ray the Coldgun (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 2.4 Abnominations)

After having lost his suit and saving Mick life earlier in this episode anyways, Mick offers Ray Snarts Coldgun to cheer the latter up and make him his new defacto partner. That scene is important because it’s the start of the peak of the Atomwave Bromance, which has been going on since Season 1, and it also shows us a softer side of Mick, who really wants to help the directionless Ray out here, even if he hides that under his scruff exterior. It’s the point where those two became acutal friends, so yeah, me heart.

20. Kahlil’s Death (Black Lightning Episode 2.11 The Book of Secrets: Chapter One: Prodigal Son)

That one didn’t stick, but it turned the tide quite spectacular and was the starting point for one of „Black Lightnings“ best storylines, that may even lead right into a potential „Painkiller“ Spin-Off Show. And it definitifly was the saddest and most tragicial moment of the shows. After suriving more than any living person ever should, Kahlil finally dies here, leaving Jennifer heartbroken and the viewers more than a litte shocked.

19. Thea thanks Oliver for everything he has dona after she learns that he is the Arrow (Arrow Episode 3.13 Canaries)

Superheroes revealing their real identity to someone are always highlight moments of these shows, but that one parcticulary stands out because … well the scene did go quite different than we thought it would. After Oliver tells Thea that he is the Arrow, his sister … thanks him for everything he has done for Starling City. This shows how far Thea Queen as a character has come since we met her in the Pilot. After not being to supportive in the beginning of the show to Oliver, we now see how far her character development has brought her, as she says not a single unkind word to Oliver about him keeping his secret for over two years, instead she sees it from his perspective. Thea Queen had one of the most amazing character developments in all of „Arrow“ during the first half of the show, and this moment is the prime example for that.

18. Mick refuses to leave Ray behind in the Gulag (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 1.5 Fail Safe)

After Snart breaks into the Russian Gulgag to get his team mates out of it, he actually wants to leave Ray, who isn’t a great shape at this point, behind, but Mick refuses to. Not only is „Fail Safe“ the birth of Micks and Rays friendship, the episode and this scene in particular is the moment Mick Rory was given to us. After being portrayed as a rather one dimensional slighty crazed villain in „The Flash“ „Legends“ developed Heatwave in the loveable pyromanic bestseller author we love today, and all of that started exactlx in this moment, when Mick refused to leave someone behind, who stuck out his neck for him. Mick‘s Hero Journey begins exactly here, and, yes, Mister Rory, you are a hero. One can be a criminal and a hero at the same time, you know, and well a bestselling romance writer. That too.

17. The Mad Brainy is talked down from opening the Bottle (Supergirl Episode 5.10 The Bottle Episode)

In Querl Dox‘s finest hour we meet quite a lot of different versions of him from all across the Multiverse, among them one, who bottled up his own Earth on order to safe it from the Anti-Matter Wave and is now guilt ridden to the point of madness. And wants to open up the bottle again to free his Earth but … well that would be very bad for Earth Prime as you can imagine. After learning a lot about Brainy‘s backround and the history of mental illness in this family, this moment hits all the right cords, showing that darkness, love, guilt and forgiveness all come in pairs, especially for Brainiac-5 in all corners of the Multiverse. It also forshadowed Brainy‘s Arc for the rest of the season: That he is capable of doing the wrong thing for the right reasons but not without suffering immensly because of his own actions.

16. Oliver reveals his real identity to Tommy (Arrow Episode 1.16 Dead to the Rights)

Like I said before, Identity Reveals are always special, and this one is probaly the most important one out of all of those. Oliver reveals his real identity to Tommy in order to get him to trust him so that he can save him. But remember, at this point of the show the Hood is running around murdering people. So Tommy does not learn that his best friend is a hero, he learns that his best friend is a murderer, who still happens to save people at the same time. While Oliver is willing to do anyhting to save his friend, by revealing his real identity he might have done more harm than good to their relationship on the long run. Mostly though it’s a beautifiul written and acted scene.

15. Nate tells Ray that he loves him and nothing will change that (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 4.11 Seance and Sensibility)

Legends of Tomorrow did many great things, but its greatest achievement may be the friendship between Nate and Ray, that shows us a masculine friendship framed as a femine one. Steelatom are bros, who talk about their feelings, soft men who are nerds together, never fall victim to toxic masculinity and never fret over the L-Word or physical contact. They are just best friends and are unashamed of it. In this scene Nates father was killed, and everyone believes that Rays Love Interest Nora Darhk did it. And Ray is now worried that Nate might hold his feelings for Nora and his trust into her against him (which shows his own insecurity and his lack of meaningful relationships before he joined the Legends), however Nate tells him that he still loves Ray and always will, no matter whom he trusts or whom he fancies. Which honestly is how it is supposed to be between actual friends.

14. Barry kisses Iris before the Tidal Wave (The Flash Episode 1.15 Out of Time)

In this alternate timeline, which Barry erased by travelling back in time for for the first time, Central City is hit by a massive tidal wave. Just before that circumstances lead to the first kiss between Barry and Iris, that is erased from existence only minutes after it happens, which is classic Flash-Stuff, really, and a an unforgetable epic moment.

13. Sara tells Ava that she can’t ever be normal (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 3.12 The Curse of the Earth Totem)

After a Legends Emergency interupted Saras date with Ava, she splits on her date, who confronts her about that fact in this scene. In an emotional break down Sara admits that she is not normal, can never be normal, and should have never tried to be normal at all. Dating is not her thing, fighting is. In her mind Ava is the perfect daughter in law, while she is the opposite. And she does not think that someone like Ava would ever want someone like her. However Ava actually surprises her by admitting that she does not want someone normal, she does not want a Sara trying to be normal, she wants Sara just the way she is. Which leads to the couples first kiss of course. Which is then rudley interrupted by pirtates, but yeah, this is good stuff, classic romantic comedy with a Legends twist, just how we like it.

12. Westallen Wedding Vows (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 3.8 Crisis on Earth X Part 4)

Barry und Iris actually did not get married on „The Flash“, but during an episode of „Legends of Tomorrow“ right at the end of the „Crisis on Earth-X“ Crossover. After having actually given up on the big wedding idea, they are talked into marrying anyway, letting themselves be joined by John Diggle, who for some reason got the license to marry people. And so they do get married, with just the right vows, that reflect what they mean to each other. Sadly the wedding itself is still kind of a disaster, because someone has to interrupt it and make it into a double wedding, which the producers thought to be a nice idea, and it might have even been one, if they would have decided on it before and not during the ceremony, so the favorite moment is not the wedding itself, but the Wedding Vows, but boy, those are really beautiful.

11. Zari‘s Speech (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 3. 11 Here I go again)

Stuck in time loop, not knowing that she is actually trapped in a Gideon run simulation in her own head, Zari here thinks that the only way to save everyone else is to sacrifice herself, but before she goes, she has some words for all of her team mates, moving beautiful words, that show how much she actually loves her team and make us love her all the more for it. This is the episode where both the writers and Tala discovered what makes Zari special and you can tell - never was any Zari Moment more magicial, and this moment led right to the end of Season 4 and everything that went on with Zari in Season 5, and that’s just one more reason to love it.

10. Nate and Ray so Goodbye to each other (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 5.7 Romeo V Juliet: Dawn of Justness)

Parting is the hardest sorrow. No one wanted Brandon to leave Legends, Brandon did not want to leave Legends, no one wanted Ray gone, but he still left, left us and left his best friend Nate, whom he is saying goodbye to in this scene, after Nate initially refused to say goodbye, just like we would have wanted to. No one died in that scene, but it certainly felt like it. We all get that life is change, we just don’t want unnecessary change for financial reasons. This moment might have gotten us a Season 6, but we would have preferred for it to happen during the Series Finale or even better never. But it was still beautiful though.

9. Oliver dies and tells Kara and Barry that they are the Best among them (Supergirl Episode 5.9 Crisis on Infinite Earths Part 1)

We all knew Oliver Queen was going to die during Crisis on Infinite Earths, we just didn not expect him to die at the end of Episode 1! In a crazy plot twist he sacrificed his life to save additional millions of people from Karas Earth, hardly making it to Earth-1, where he had some important parting words for Barry and Kara and then left his friends and his daughter in tears when he left his body behind. Yes, he came back, kind of at least, for the rest of the Crossover, but this does not change the fact that this moment was a very hard hitting one, especially for the people on and off screen who love him.

8. Nora is written out of the Timeline (The Flash Episode 5.22 Legacy)

Nora went back in time to change the timeline, but she kind of forgot to account for the fact that this might endanger her own life. As the timeline does change during the Finale of Season 5, the version of Nora we have come to know and love is written out of existence. Instead of hiding away in the Negative Speed Force, Nora accepts her fate, prefering to die over changing who she is deep inside, and she is erased out of existence while her distraught parents have to watch her go. A new version of her will likely be back at some point, but this version is gone for good in a way only Eobard Thawne deserves. Cruel but still a great moment.

7. Adrian blows up Lian Yu (Arrow Episode 5.23 Lian Yu)

How can ever forget this Cliffhanger Ending? After not succeding in breaking Oliver Queen for good, Adrian changes tactics and abducted his loved ones and plans to kill them all, which is what he is doing in this scene. Having hidden explosives on Lian Yu which will detonate when he takes his own life, Adrian does exactly that – he blows away his brains in front of Oliver and his son William, while detonating the explosives at the same time, potentially killing of the whole Cast of „Arrow“ from Felicity to Thea, Quentin, Diggle, Dinah, Rene, Curtis, Black Siren, Evelyn and even Nyssa and Slade. Even though the only one that actually died was Samantha Clayton, the explosion did put Thea in a coma and gave Dig nerve damage. But in truth that scene is not about what actually happened after it, it is about what went on during it. Oh, Adrian, you win, you are the ultimate Foe of „Arrow“, we will give you that.

6. Martin‘s Death (Legends of Tomorrow Episode 3.8 Crisis on Earth X Part 4)

Death Scenes are always hard, but this one, was especially hard. It was mean, because Martin was in the middle of a storyline that would have taken him out of Legends anyways, but it also was especially heart breaking because it’s Martin Stein, damn it. We love him! Also there was something very authentic about this scene. Death scenes can feel very staged at times, but this one even thoug it had it all – speeches, goodbyes, the right person next to the dying one – this felt every thing else but staged, it felt real, in a way no other Death Scene on those shows ever did. And it’s maybe the saddest death scene out of all the shows. Because there is no win here, no lesson, no cool action, only a sad goodbye.

5. Eddie‘s Death (The Flash Episode 1.23 Fast Enough)

And speaking of mean deaths. This one … Eddie sacrificed himself to erase Eobard out of existence, but who has come back since then, like multiple times? Yes, exactly. Ralph was not wrong with the Vasectomie Idea. But nevertheless, this is one of the greates moment of „The Flash“. After telling Eddie he means nothing to History, Eddie is the one who beats Eobard in the end, by taking is own life in order to prevent him from ever existing. Iris loses Eddie, Barry loses Eddie, we lose Eddie, who died a hero, was never forgotten but is not given back to us, no matter how much we beg. It was an out of nothing twist, inceredible mean and sad, but a really great moment.

4. Kara‘s Hope Speech (Supergirl Episode 1.20 Better Angels)

Kara‘s Hope Speeches have become kind of a running gag at this point, but they all date back to her first and greatest one. When needed Kara adresses the people of National City via Television, urges them to fight back, to not give up hope, and after we heard this incredible well written and delivered speech, even we thought for a single moment that maybe such a thing as hope does actually exist. Kara told us: „ When facing an attack like this, it's easy to feel hopeless. We retreat, we lose our strength, we lose ourselves. I know. I lost everything when I was young. When I first landed on this planet, I was sad and alone. But I found out that there is so much love in this world, out there for the taking. And you, the people of National City, you helped me. You let me be who I'm meant to be. You gave me back to myself. You made me stronger than I ever thought possible, and I love you for that. Now, in each and every one of you, there is a light, a spirit that cannot be snuffed out. That won't give up. I need your help again. I need you to hope. Hope... that you will remember that you can all be heroes. Hope... that when faced with an enemy determined to destroy your spirit, you will fight back and thrive. Hope... that those who once may have shunned you will, in a moment of crisis, come to your aid. Hope... that you will see again the faces of those you love. And perhaps even those you've lost." We hope so too, Kara, we really do, because after this year, we really need nothing more than hope.

3. Barry meets his dying Mother (The Flash Episode 1.23 Fast Enough)

When presented with the opportunity to change the timeline and save his mother, Barry reculantly takes it and travels back to the night his mother died in the Season 1 Finale. However he does not save her, instead he ends up letting it happen, but saying goodbye to his mother instead, siting by her while she dies. Of all the sob-worthy moment of all the shows, this one is definitfy up there in Top 3, and will forever remain there, because this one is more than just a little bit hard, isn’t it?

2. Oliver dies as the Spectre (Arrow Episode 8.8 Crisis on Infinite Earths Part 4)

And back to Oliver dying again. After becoming the Spectre, Oliver kills the Anti-Monitor (because he failed this Universe, remember?) and restarts the Multiverse with the help of the Paragons (no Lex, it wasn’t you that made a new one, you only helped!). However this has burned up all his energy, so he dies for the second and final time during this Crossover. Sara und Barry are sitting with him while he goes and reminds Barry of the final lesson his life had thaught him: „Dying is the easy part.“ Living is what’s hard, but it’s also worth it. Excuse me for a moment, I am over there sobbing quietly.

1. Quentin‘s Last Speech about Oliver (Arrow Episode 8.10 Fadeout)

Wait, you say, how can that be Number 1? Well for a simple reason, apart from the fact that Oliver always fought for Quentins respect, that speech actually does sum up nicely what „Arrow“ was really all about. Forget Olivers messy love life, the bow and the arrow, the fight scenes and the villains. „Arrow“ was always about change, it was about character development, about how people can change. Not only Oliver‘s storyline, but mainly Oliver‘s, was about how you can always change for the better, how you can always dig yourself out of the hole you are in right now, out of all the pain, the depression, the darkness. „Fadeout“ was many things, but it succeeded on one simple level: It reminded us again what „Arrow“ was all about, and no moment incoperated that better than Quentin‘s Last Speech about Oliver: „Oliver Queen wasn't just a hero. He was a good man. He was an honorable person. The fact that he didn't start out that way makes him, in my book, even more honorable. He stands as a reminder to all of us that anyone can change.“ And that is ultimatley what a Hero‘s Journey is all about.

#Arrowverse #Favorite Moments #Arrow #The Flash #Supergirl #legends of tomorrow #Black Lightning #Batwoman #everyone is entitled to their opinion #please respect mine

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everythingjonsa · 7 years

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Snowed under by your love - Chapter 4.

Okay so this one came by pretty quickly to me but am not sure if the next one will come out at the same pace. Thank you all for all the love and encouragement you’ve been showering me with. It’s the reason why I keep writing.

My jonsa soul sister @kitten1618x who is my alpha and beta is truly meticulous and thorough in her editing and I am not happy with my writing until she is. So thank you very much, Love!!

Special mention to @becky217 for the prompt response and feedback. @fedonciadale @accuritefish @littledove @mommyandherblog @icequeen28 @hopepeaceandblackgirlmagic @geekprincess26 @lanamv96 @vervainqueen7 @annarosym @treehillraven23-blog @iqqsgonnabeokay @broadwaysprincess @trinuviel @justbrie @castalya @jami-elite @sestamibi-baby @cute-poison20102014 @hyojung12 @sweatysnow @vale110391 @tamica76 @longlivetheyoungwolf @teddyduchess @riahchan @bethnoel @amnex @twilight-sparx @nina2406 @nat111love @eternallyvain @tayanassayag @ronarch2671 @yol101 @unimportantpoetry @myownblueworld @graceverse @m-s-21 @vitvill98 @sansajons @poprox012-blog @devonmorgan1 @redwolf1283 @strangebirds1202 @ralphy246 @littlebird-whitewolf Thank you all for the replies, comments, likes and reblogs..

Because I am not yet on Ao3 and I’m not sure if you’d like to be tagged, please feel free to to leave a reply or message or ask if you’d like to be tagged. Thank you so much for your patience!!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Sansa let the warm water run down her hair, in the shower. Today had been the toughest day of her life and, she was physically, mentally and emotionally drained out of every single ounce of energy. Can one really outrun destiny? I guess not, she thought. Karma was a bitch and it did come to bite you in the ass. She’d known when she had made the decision of raising Lyanna alone that if the day ever came that Jon Snow found out about his daughter, both their lives would be irreversibly changed. She had panicked when Jon told her about dragging her to the court about Lyanna. Her mind had painted before her, a thousand scenarios of Lyanna standing in a witness box, Lyanna being interviewed by strangers and so many other scary situations for her little baby that she’d forgotten that Jon COULDN’T BE SURE that Lyanna was his. And she had slipped. She had given him the conformation, he was looking for. She’d told him Lyanna was his daughter, after almost five years of keeping the fact hidden from him. And Jon had reacted exactly like she had expected him to react. In fact, knowing Jon Snow, it could’ve been far worse.

He’d wanted his daughter, from the very minute he’d realised she was his. Why do you want her now, she’d ached to ask him, but knew as soon as the question arose in her mind that, it was rather unfair of her to do so. Hadn’t she herself wanted her baby? From the very moment, she’d known she was pregnant, from the very first flutter she’d felt in her womb?

Sansa had also known there was no point in deterring Jon or arguing with him about Lyanna. Nothing she said or did was going to change his mind about having his daughter in his life. She’d seen the determination in his eyes and she’s known that it was more sensible for her to just resign to the fact that this is how it was going to be from now on. Jon wanted in, and there was no way on earth, she was going to be able to stop him. Not that she wanted to. Unbeknownst to Jon, a great burden had been lifted from Sansa’s heart. She’d never liked keeping Lyanna a secret from Jon and now, she didn’t have to.

But suggesting that they go to Winterfell?? THAT WAS UNEXPECTED. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut when she remembered their argument over his suggestion.

“Pack your bags??” Sansa had been outraged at his audacity. “I hope you do realise that you can’t be ordering me around, Jon Snow. I do have a choice whether or not I want to go.”

Jon had literally snarled at her. “Exactly like I had a choice, five years ago, whether or not I wanted my daughter?” He had inched closer to her and she thought all her cognitive abilities had come to an abrupt halt. Damn the man, for having such an effect on her even after five long years. His breathing was very irregular and she could see the fury flash in his eyes. “You should be thanking me that it’s not much worse for you, Sansa Stark. But if you keep your ego aside for a moment, you’ll see that it’s actually a good thing to happen for Lya.”

Sansa hadn’t, for the life of her, been able to understand how this could work in Lyanna’s favour. She’d dreaded thinking about how Robb was going to react if she EVER told him. A shudder ran down her back and Jon had moved away, pulling a chair to sit down. He’d pulled one for her to sit on too, but she had stubbornly refused, like a petulant child. Jon had simply shrugged and continued talking. “All the stories that I’ve heard from Lyanna, in whatever little time that I spent with her, have been about her Uncles and Aunties and Granny and Grandpa and her cousins which can only mean that your family is very much a part of her life and she obviously loves them a lot. It’s rather evident, therefore, to me at least that if I am going to be an active part of her life and so are they; we’re going to have to meet eventually.” Jon interlinked his palms and placed his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, his face filled with disquiet. “So why wait for it to happen? Besides, I’ve been running away from facing your father for years now. I don’t want to anymore.” Sansa had remembered that fateful day all too well and she could see in Jon’s eyes that he did too. “You can tell Lyanna, that we’re going to Winterfell with her Uncle Robb’s friend. We’ll sail to White Harbour and drive down to Winterfell from there. It will give us a lot of time together. Once we’re in Winterfell we’ll …. ummmm…. talk to your family, and then slowly break it to her. She’ll have the people she trusts, around her. It’s the best place for her to be, really.”

Sansa wondered how the ‘talk to your family’ bit was going to work out. She knew that her mother and father would be civilised about the whole thing, at the very least. Bran was going to be himself, probably wearing the ‘I warned you this would happen’ look on his face. Arya was undoubtedly the right person to talk to if Sansa was even going to entertain this mad idea. Rickon was perhaps going to be the first one to hug Jon but Robb? Once again, Sansa dreaded thinking about how Robb was going to react. Jon didn’t have a clue how fiercely protective Robb was about Lyanna and how much he’d hated Jon for everything that happened. But he’d never admitted any of this, not even to himself. But Jon did have a point. Lyanna felt most at home, at Winterfell. She was the eldest Stark grandchild. Robb and Talisa’s Ben was just two months younger than Lya but they got along with each other like house on fire, just like their fathers had once. It was also where Lya had come to realise that she didn’t have a father like her cousins. She invented stories and told them to Ben about her imaginary father who was fighting monsters in castles so that he could come back to her. Ben, who adored Lya, believed every word she said. It was their ‘not-very-secret’ secret. She loved playing big sister to Anna, Lilly, George and Nymeria. She’d often begged Sansa to move closer to her family and her cousins. If she were to discover that she had a father too, like she’d always wanted and imagined, it was really in her interest that it happened at Winterfell.

Jon had probably seen the resignation in her eyes. He’d risen up from where he was sitting. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, Sansa, and I’m hoping you’re going to have an answer by then.” The firm look had come back on his face when he slowly prowled towards her. “If you and Lyanna don’t come with me, I’ll go to Winterfell by myself and bring them all down here, even if I have to wage a war to do it, and then tell Lyanna myself that I’m her father.” He brushed past her and opened the door to leave but not before he told her, “And don’t think, even for a second, that I won’t do it.”

Sansa turned off the shower with a start. The worst thing that could ever happen, was Jon going to Winterfell all by himself. It was a risk she couldn’t take. Who knows what might come tumbling out of her family members mouths in her absence. Jon Snow must never know, why she did, what she did.

Sansa wrapped herself in a towel and got out of the bathroom. She towel dried her long red hair and changed into her PJs. Sansa then slowly tip-toed into Lya’s room and watched the serene expression on her daughter’s face while she slept. In spite of the emotional roller coaster that Sansa had experienced today, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. When Lya was awake, Sansa often wondered when she would go to sleep so she could get some work done and maybe have some time for herself. But when Lya finally did go off to sleep, Sansa got bored of the silence and the absence of the melodious voice that said ‘Mummy’ every single minute. Were mothers always so conflicted? She knelt down beside her daughter’s bed, carefully ran her hand over her forehead and kissed it, resisting the temptation to do it a hundred times more. How was Lya going to deal with Jon’s presence in her life? What kind of a father would Jon be?

She already knew the answer to that, she thought as she quietly went back to her room. Jon would probably take some time, but he would be the best ever father Lyanna could hope for. Just as he had been the best ever friend to Robb and Theon, the best ever brother to Arya, Rickon and Bran, the best ever son to Ned and Catelyn Stark. Jon had always kept his distance from her and she hated it. Sansa knew she was partly to blame for this distance. She had always behaved cold and indifferent around him. Her siblings, especially Arya, had hated her for this coldness she had shown towards Jon. But neither her siblings nor Jon, had ever known the REAL reason behind her indifference. Sansa had had the hugest crush on him, from the very first moment that she had set her eyes on him. Her heart would start pounding, her pulse racing and her palms would become sweaty when Jon was around. She had been scared her siblings would figure out her true feelings. So had she feigned indifference and dislike to cover up the crush that was festering inside her heart like a wound that wouldn’t ever heal. She had tried her best to get him to notice her in a not so obvious manner, wearing the best of clothes, trying to look as pretty as she could. Unfortunately for her, Jon had always seen her as Robb’s kid sister and nothing else.

It had gotten worse when Jon had started dating girls. Sansa had been heartbroken. She vividly remembered the first time Jon had shyly introduced his first girlfriend, Val, to the Starks. Jon was living with them, then. Val was a stunning blonde beauty at 16, and Sansa, who was only twelve, felt gangly and ugly in front of her. She’d thrown a terrible temper tantrum about a spinach pie and had been grounded for a day by her mother, who was appalled by the fact that her otherwise lady-like girl, had behaved like a hussy. Robb and Arya had tried to speak to her but she had shut them away. She’d always struggled with her feelings for Jon, as she was too fearful to talk to her siblings about it, worried that they would judge her for having these feelings for someone who was like a brother to the rest of them. She had never had an outlet to vent her frustration and that had made things worse for her. When Jon and Robb had turned 18, they had both wanted to move out of the Stark mansion, especially Jon but her father had put his foot down. Finally, a truce had been drawn. Robb and Jon would move to the outhouse which was very much in the premises of the mansion. This had made things worse for Sansa, for now when she went to meet Robb, many times she encountered Jon alone and she didn’t know how to behave around him. Like Robb, Jon had been extremely protective of her and Sansa wondered if any boy would ever have the guts to ask her out, with the reputation that preceded her.

Sansa got into her bed and stacked the pillows for her to rest her head. She sighed and thought about how she’d gone on a dating spree when she’d turned 16, to retaliate against Robb’s machinations to protect her and to convince herself that she didn’t really need Jon Snow. But every boy she’d ever dated proved to be disappointing, if not disgusting and she’d pined more and more for the one boy, she couldn’t have. Finally, things had come to a turn when she had started dating Joffrey Baratheon, a boy who was equal parts disappointing and equal parts disgusting. Robb had thrown a fit, when he came to know that Sansa was dating Joffrey, which had encouraged Sansa to mute the voice of her conscience, and continue dating Joffrey, in rebellion. She still remembered that fateful night, so clearly.

Sansa straightened her knee-length black skirt and green blouse. She was very happy with how her outfit had turned out. Today was her special date with Joffrey. He’d promised to surprise her by taking her someplace special. He’d promised her father, that he’d bring her home on time. Sansa came down the stairs and the first person she encountered was her brother Robb, who was glowering at Joffrey like a big grey wolf. Next to him sat Jon Snow, who looked broodier than his usual self. He must’ve sensed her presence for he looked up at that precise moment and their eyes locked. In all the four months that she’d dated Joffrey, Sansa had never felt so charged and light-weighted at the same time as she felt now, with just one look from Jon. He took in her appearance, slowly giving her a once over and when his eyes returned back to hers, they looked darker and stormier, if that was even possible. Sansa stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away from him.

“Sansa, you look ….” Started Joffrey, getting up from the couch to offer her, his arm, but Robb growled and Joffrey recoiled a little bit, then rolled his eyes. “Ummm… This is a pretty dress. Shall we go?”

She could still feel Jon’s eyes on her. Of course, he disapproved of Joffrey. Why would he not? Robb didn’t like Joffrey, so it was obvious that Jon would follow suit. He had never vocally expressed his dislike and so Sansa was taken aback when she heard him say, “WAIT ….” She turned back to see him get up from his place and walk towards them. Jon was twenty now, piling on muscles by the day and looked menacing in his favourite black T-shirt and Black jeans that he usually wore, matching the black of his mood. He gave her a tentative look before glaring into Joffrey’s eyes with absolute purpose.

“If you try anything funny with her, golden boy” he paused, a muscle working in his jaw, “Anything at all..” He repeated looking at Sansa again, and she felt dizzy with the intensity in his grey eyes. “You will wish, you were never born….” And with another terse look at the two of them, he stormed back into the house leaving Sansa totally and utterly shocked. It was all she could think about, on her way to some party that Joffrey was taking her to.

Apparently, ‘a party at one of his friend’s house’ was Joffrey’s idea of a special date and Sansa was thoroughly disappointed with him. Her thoughts, however, kept drifting back to Jon. It was so out of character for Jon, to have threatened Joffrey, the way he had. She had been too stunned to even react like she would’ve if it were Robb who had issued the same threat. Robb and Theon were the most aggressive of the three. Well, if truth be told, Theon was just plain stupid, Robb was the aggressive one and Jon was the more level-headed of the three, who usually bailed them out of fights, or stopped them from getting into one.

Sansa continued to be lost in her thoughts about Jon, when she suddenly realised that something was terribly wrong with her. She was feeling awfully dizzy and she’d not even consumed alcohol. Had her drink been spiked with something? Joffrey was now giving her a sly look and all warning bells started going off in Sansa’s brains. In spite of the numbness that was dulling her brains, she thought fast and hard for an escape route.

If Sansa was anything, she was a survivor. She smiled sweetly at Joffrey and told him she wanted to use the Loo, and he had obviously not suspected a single thing. Sansa summoned every single ounce of her willpower to pretend that she could walk steadily but the minute she reached the bathroom, she bolted herself inside.

She reached into her purse and took out her phone to dial Robb’s number. It was unreachable. She couldn’t even see the numbers on her phone correctly. Frustrated and extremely petrified at whatever Joffrey had planned for her, she pressed the phone assist and yelled ‘JON’ into it. Sansa went to the bathtub and lay down in it, hoping against hope that Jon picked up the phone. He did, on the first ring. “Sansa??”

“JON!” Sansa yelled into the phone “I think Joffrey has spiked my drink. My vision’s blurred, my head is spinning, I can’t even stand on my feet.”

Jon swore so harshly that Sansa was surprised he knew to swear at all. “Don’t move from there. I’ll be there in exactly five minutes.” He cut the call. Even in her daze, Sansa remembered that she never told Jon where to come and get her. She tried to get up from the tub and staggered to the basin when she heard some commotion below. It sounded like furniture was being dragged around the house and someone was hammering the wood a lot. Sansa splashed water on her face and drank at least a few litres in an attempt to flush whatever was in her system. After what felt like a few centuries later, a knock sounded on the bathroom door.

“Sansa…” Jon’s voice came through from the other side. Relief flooded her entire being and Sansa ran unsteadily to the door, unlocked it and flew into Jon’s arms without waiting for him to offer that comfort. Whatever Jon was about to say, had frozen in his mouth, just as he had, when she hugged him. This was the first time that she’d ever gotten this physically close to him. In the next instant, she felt his strong arms go around her, gathering her more securely against him, almost lifting her off her feet. She felt him press his lips against her temple and she was lost, lost in the sensation that was Jon Snow. She nuzzled against his cheek and inhaled his familiar scent. She felt like, this is where she belonged; this is where she was always meant to be; that she had found her haven. But the moment was lost as quickly as it had come, for Jon pushed her away from him with a slight jerk. “Sansa, are you alright?” he said, his breath coming out in huffs.

Sansa took a while to focus on him. He had thrown a black leather jacket over his previous attire but what really caught her attention was his bloody fist. She immediately reached for it, but he drew his hand away. She looked at him furiously. “What did you do to him?”

Sansa saw that violent look come into his eyes. “The less you know, the better. Come now, let’s get you home.”

But Sansa refused to budge. Suddenly a thought nagged at her brain. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jon rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Thankfully, his other fist looked intact. He looked extremely uncomfortable when he answered her. “Robb, Theon and I followed you here. It was Robb’s idea.” He added, when he saw Sansa’s shocked expression. “And you should be thankful we did. He was planning to put on a show for his friends with you, the bloody motherfucker.” Jon spat the words looking angrier than Sansa had ever seen him look. Sansa felt a sudden wave of nausea overcome her and her anger at Robb for having followed her on her date instantly disappeared. She should thank her stars for having a protective, interfering and loving brother like Robb in her life. What would’ve happened if he had decided to leave her alone, just like she had told him to, a million times?

“Before you ask me” Jon’s heated voice broke through her thoughts and she looked at him. “Yes, Robb and Theon were right here. They’ve taken those assholes to the police. Robb asked me to take you home.” Then suddenly, he turned his anger on her. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sansa? Why are all your boyfriends, miserable twisted fucks?”

Jon’s face was now inches away from Sansa’s and maybe it was the drug still acting up in her system but all her anger at Jon was coming back to her. She rolled her eyes. “Because obviously, I’m not dating the person, I desperately want to date.”

Jon’s expression changed and he creased his brows in confusion. “There’s someone else you want to date?” He took a firm step towards her. “Why don’t you then?” His words sounded harsh. Jon clearly did not trust her choice.

Sansa gulped at the disdain she heard in his voice. HE, was responsible for this. She was bursting from within. “Because, he doesn’t want me.” The truth hurt her, but she said it anyway.

Jon looked at her for ten long seconds and then scoffed, shaking his head. “What kind of an imbecile, wouldn’t want you, Sansa Stark?”

Sansa’s heart was pounding against her rib-cage. By some stroke of luck, an opportunity had been presented to her, to finally say what was in her heart. Did she have the courage to go through with it? Sansa took a step forward. She would’ve fallen had Jon not held both her arms and steadied her.

Blue eyes were locked with dark grey ones “Would you call yourself an imbecile, Jon Snow?”

Jon looked like he’d been punched in the face. He narrowed his eyes, then looked shocked and then looked confused. “Sansa….” He said after what seemed like an eternity. “You can’t possibly mean what you said.”

Sansa felt stung, rejected. What had she expected anyway? She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he didn’t let her escape. It was a futile attempt anyway. He was far stronger than her. Fury and frustration bubbled inside her. If she’d come down this far, she might as well go all the way. So she looked directly into his eyes and said “I like you, Jon Snow. Deal with it.” And she kissed him.

She threaded her fingers through his dark silken curls like she’d always imagined in her dreams, and pressed her lips to his. His lips felt soft and warm and she wanted more. Jon still stood like a rigid cold statue and Sansa suddenly realised the folly of her actions. This was definitely going to be the most embarrassing day of her teenage life. How was she going to face Jon, after today?

Her grip on his hair slowly slackened. She was about to move away from him, when he suddenly held her face in his palms and devoured her mouth in a ferocious kiss that sent tremors through her entire body. It had to be SHOCK, thought Sansa desperately. Jon was kissing her. THIS WAS HAPPENING FOR REAL. Sansa was soaring above the skies as Jon’s kiss made her feel dizzier than the drug she had accidentally consumed. There was an entire orchestra playing inside her body as Jon’s mouth worked expertly over hers. Sansa’s hands travelled from his hair to his neck to his corded shoulders where she held on to him for dear life. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Never had she, in her entire dating history, been kissed so passionately by a boy like Jon was kissing her now. Jon’s fingers were now tangled in her hair and he angled her head slightly to deepen the kiss and she arched into him. His tongue was now doing the exploring and Sansa moaned loudly as she kissed him back with the same intensity.

The next instant Jon had withdrawn himself from her muttering “Shit… Shit …Fuck… Shit…”

Sansa shut her eyes to stop the tears from flowing, because she knew all too well that the moment, however beautiful it was while it lasted, was over.

“I am a bloody lout…” Jon was cursing himself and in general. He looked utterly disgusted with himself. Then he turned to look at her. “I am sorry Sansa….b-but this … us… This can never happen. Ever… You are Ned’s little girl. You’re Robb’s sister.” Jon cringed at the very mention of Robb.

“Jon, there’s nothing wrong with what happened.” Sansa said, hoping against hope that he could stop seeing her as Sansa STARK. “Just because I’m Robb’s sister….”

“Sansa…just stop, please” Jon moved away from her, running his palm through his curly locks. “This was …. an…an aberration… Please don’t talk about this again.”

An aberration? He’d called the best kiss of her life an aberration? “You are a bloody imbecile, Jon Snow!” Sansa had yelled at him “I hate you more than anyone else in this world.”

And hatred she had felt, for herself, thought Sansa, as she drew the covers up to her chin, wiping the lone tear that had fallen out of her eye when she was lost in her memories of her past. For her utter inability to hate him. He’d brought home Ygritte, his new girlfriend the very next day and Sansa’s skin had turned to porcelain, and no one except Bran had noticed. He had been just fourteen, but was extremely intuitive. He had looked at her and Jon several times during that cursed dinner, which was nothing but a blur in her memory. She hadn’t displayed any emotion outwardly, but something inside her had shattered that day. A realisation had dawned upon her; one she would never be rid of.

A realisation that she would remain utterly and irrevocably in love with Jon Snow, to this day, until her last day!

#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fic #Jon x Sansa #sansa x jon #jon and sansa #my fic #Snowed under by love #chapter 4 #my post

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ask-de-writer · 7 years

Text

ONE WAY? (Part 2 of2) a Bizarre Border fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to the BIZARRE BORDER

ONE WAY?

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

4845 words

Written 2008

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, Fiction, Art, Misic, Cosplay or other things are actively encouraged!

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PART 1 is HERE

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Alarmed, I asked, “What's wrong? Isn't it healing?”

“Yes, Mr. Marks, it is. It's just the fastest healing surgical wound that I've ever seen!”

Deputy Redd was giving me a sideways look, a bit of a smile playing about his features. “You sure that you don't want to tell me a bit more, Josh?”

Sarcastically, I retorted, “He blasted me through the middle from behind with both barrels, just off to the left of the spine. I was too pissed off to die, in spite of a hole the size of the Holland Tunnel through me back to front. I hauled out my gun and shot him down. Then I fixed up my carcass best I could and called in. Faked the spleen injury to make it look good.

“While you were outside the door here, after we talked, Al came back to haunt me but I ripped off his ghost's arm and slugged him upside the head with it. Then I shoved both his head and arm up his ass and stomped him back to Hell, OK?”

To my surprise, the nurse said, “That makes better sense than your other story. I was in the surgery team that put you back together. We took out six stray pellets along a path between your front and back wounds. Your Aorta was under tension like after an aneurysm surgery, as if about an inch and a half had been taken out. It and a lot of the rest of the mess that we found all looked like new healed tissue. Now, you are almost ready for discharge after less than twenty four hours.”

Deputy Redd nodded, “Fits what I found out at your place and what I've seen here, too. All except for that haunt bit.”

Deputy Colsun stuck his head in the door and announced, “Redd, I need you out here. Both of the surviving Rankin brothers are out here, trying to get in.”

I closed my eyes and crawled out of the ol' carcass to look over my guests. Neither one had so much as a pocket knife. I opened my eyes and said, “Thanks, Deputy Colsun. Go ahead and let them in. Deputy Redd, have your gun ready, just in case.”

The Rankin brothers entered, full of anger, but sensibly not doing anything. I greeted them, “Will, Sandler. How you doing? Aside from that idiocy about trying to kill a man in the hospital, I mean.”

Sandler snapped, “You fuckin' murdered my brother! Al was unarmed.”

“Oh, really? How do you figure that, Sandler? I seem to recall a double barrel load of shot blasting through my abdomen.”

“Exactly! Al had a double gun and both barrels were empty when you shot him!”

“Still self defense, Sandler. He had four more cartridges in his shirt pocket and six in his right pants pocket. I just didn't give him time to reload. Fair didn't seem to be the order of the day, since he'd just shot me in the back at about two or three feet.”

Will snarled, “You lost all your rights when you got killed, damn you!”

I turned to the nurse, “You've been doing my vitals since I got here. Am I dead? Did I even code out?”

The nurse saw where that was going and grinned. “You've been alive the whole time. Too much so for my taste on occasion. Never even coded once, which, with a wound like yours, is almost a miracle.”

“Sorry, Will. Just didn't die, that's all. Al wasn't as lucky. Besides, I had that protective restraint order out on him because of that vandalism I caught him at. I know that it was served and so do you. You signed the witness to delivery line, just under Al's signature. Lawfully I was legal to kill him armed or no, just for being within a hundred fifty feet of my property line.”

I could feel relevant info trickling into my consciousness. It tickled just a bit, going in. I told them, “Of course you boys know all about how I was shot. You were on top of my south hill, watching Al ambush me. When it went sour, you two didn't hang about, did you? Didn't call for help or the Sheriff, either.

“Al's old truck is still at his place. Will's is in the shop after that stupid wreck. Not even your fault, Will. Sandler, you're famous for not letting anybody drive your rig and it left some beautiful tire tracks in that soft patch just shy of where you parked it. Your right rear has a big slash in the tread caused by that mesquite branch that you ran over last week. That tire track puts you there, Sandler.

“Will, you were in such a hurry to get out of there that you left the lens caps for your binoculars. They have several nice fingerprints on them. You are toast, too. Put at the scene by evidence left there and already found by the cops.

“Since you boys were with Al when he tried to murder me, you are accomplices before, and during the fact of attempted murder. Enjoy the State's hospitality for the next few years.”

Deputy Colsun simply put cuffs on the stunned pair. As he led them away, Sandler yelled, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!”

A few hours later, I was released by a very puzzled doctor as fit to go home. I was riding with Deputy Redd back out to my place. Softly, he asked me, “Josh, are you a witch-man?”

“Tell me what one is and I'll tell you. Short answer, I don't know. Weird stuff has been happening since Al shot me. That, I agree.”

We pulled up to my gate and Deputy Redd was considerate enough to open it up with my keys and drive me on up to the house. As we parted company on my porch, he asked softly, “You know some things that you got no way to know. I saw that happen. We have two files that are still open. One is an unidentified woman from a couple years ago. Body was found after scavengers got it. We never found her skull and there are a couple of odd things connected to the case.

“The other is our county's only unsolved murder. Poor sap was just a wetback. We'd have sent him home if we caught him. Thing is, somebody else got him first and lynched him. Maybe some places they'd just say hell with it, but it pisses us off to have a killer loose even if the only guy he's killed is a wetback.”

I pretended to think it over first but it wasn't even a close call. “Can't guarantee a thing, Deputy, but I'll be glad to look. If you have a bit of physical evidence directly connected to either victim, it might help. Might not, too. This is all new to me, OK?”

“Can't ask for better. I'll bring the things by tomorrow, Josh. See you then.” He was halfway to his truck when Deputy Redd turned and asked, “Ripped off Al's arm and slugged him across the head with it? Shoved his head up his ass and stomped him back to Hell? That was a true story, wasn't it?”

“Actually. Deputy, yes it was. Didn't think that anyone would believe it is all. Why?”

He grinned a big wide smirk and replied, as he got into his county truck, “Colsun overheard the tale. When he took the Rankin brothers in, he told the whole station. Everybody except the Rankin Brothers was laughing their heads off.” He drove off in a cloud of desert dust.

I went around to my chicken run. Al's rattlesnake was still there, curled up in a corner. It buzzed nervously when it saw me. This time I had a non-lethal answer for it. I used my ectoplasmic hand to pick it up and carry it safely far from the chickens. I found it a nice hole leading to a rat den and let it go.

I went back to the chicken run and used the same technique to gather the eggs and check feed and water. All well, I went back to the house. Where I found Al waiting for me.

He tried for another “ghostly wail” but I shoved an ectoplasmic fist down his throat. Setting my eggs down in a bowl by the sink, I started to rinse them. Next to Al, a large dog-like shape began to fade into existence. A Hell-Hound.

Al began to crow triumphantly, “Might mess with me, Marks, but there's no way that you can fuck with this monster!”

Mildly I replied, “For once in your whole existence, Al, you are right.” I turned to the Hell-Hound and said, “It is my understanding that you can speak. Is this so?”

A blacker than midnight head turned to gaze at me with eyes that, though also black, gave the impression of flames. It spoke, revealing far more and larger fangs than any earthly hound, “That is true. Why do you not flee or show terror?”

“I am a bit afraid, I'll admit freely. The rest is obvious. There's no point to it. Why run from what cannot be escaped? As for terror, courage, or what we sometimes call guts, consists of facing fear and dealing with it.

“If I must, I'll go with you freely and with no resistance. First, though, I'd like to do something to entertain us both. Let me deal with Al and then let us do whatever is necessary. Did you see what I did to him last time?”

The Hell-Hound grinned, displaying a canine-shaming degree of mouth armaments. It gave a very canine bark as it said, “I did. Many had laughter after the form allowed us.”

The ghostly Al purpled and tried to grow “Nightmare on Elm St.” type razor claws. His first swipe with them was his last. Dumb roundhouse swing. I ducked under it, grabbed his ectoplasmic arm and heaved. The arm and hand ripped off. My return cut was a low line rising swing just fractionally following a poke at his eyes with my free hand. Al's own Freddy Kruger kit carved right up through his prominent gut.

I followed my slash by a grab and scoop that spilled Al's ghostly intestines on the deck. It looked like he could still feel what was happening to him because he doubled up in agony. I pulled out his large intestine and cut it free at the inside of his anus and shoved the end of his gut down his own throat. I tied his hands and feet together with the rest of his intestines.

“You are so full of your own shit, Al, that you might as well get it direct from the source,” I told him as I stomped him down through the floor. It looked like it was going to be a really long fall.

I turned to the Hell-Hound and said, “Was that as much fun for you as it was for me?”

Thumping its tail, the Hell-Hound replied, “Very nearly, I expect. Shall we go?”

“Since I agreed to, yes. Is there a particular hurry?”

“Not really. It will only delay the inevitable, though.”

“If it helps, I agree about that, too. What were you sent here to do, exactly?”

“I was sent to bring your soul to Judgment before the Three.”

“Don't I have to be dead for that to happen?”

Wagging his tail hesitantly, the Hell-Hound said, “That is so. You must be dead or alive by an unlawful resurrection.”

“Got a question for you then. Can you tell if I fit your rules or do you just grab and say, 'OOPS!' if you're wrong?”

Almost testily the Hell-Hound replied, “Of course I can tell. I just need to smell and taste your blood to know.”

I held out my hand, saying, “I hope that you don't have to do me an injury to find out. I'm fond of that hand.”

Incredulously, the creature asked, “You will trust me not to injure you?”

I shrugged, “Same as above. I couldn't stop you if I tried, so there's no point in trying. Besides, unlike Al, you have behaved with both honor and restraint, so far.”

“You are very different from the usual among the Damned. I will not harm you.” He sank the point of one of his canines into the back of my hand almost to bone and pulled it back. As blood began to well up, he ran his tongue across my hand. It left a trace of first degree burn redness but healed the hole without a trace.

The Hell-beast looked almost disappointed. He pronounced, “You are not my prey. To kill in self defense is lawful. You used no sorcery to live through the mortal wound. You simply refused to fully leave your body and found a way to repair the damage before the death of the body. I must go back.”

I sat and put a hand on his back. “I wish that you wouldn't. Think. You were sent to get me. Was there a time limit set?”

“No. You want a Hell-Hound to stay with you?”

“Sure. I like you. You have been absolutely fair with me and that says a lot. Since no time limit was set, I'd like you to accompany me to my proper place of Judgment when my time comes. Be it Hell or Heaven, I said I'd go with you, and I will. In the meantime, stay here with me. You'll still do your duty but get a bit of a vacation, if you want it.”

The creature simply sat down next to me and said, “We might be together for a long time. The things that you have learned can be used to keep you young, you know.”

I patted his back and replied, “I sorta figured that out. So, you staying, then?”

“For so long as I am welcome, I shall be your friend, Josh Marks.”

“You need a name while you're here. How do you like Hellfang?”

“That is a good name for me. I never had a name before.”

“Say, Hellfang, if Al really is going to haunt me, we could have a lot of fun. You must have some purely delightful ideas.”

Tail thumping on the floor, Hellfang said, “You are right. I do.”

---The End---

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#ONE WAY?#Part 2 of 2 #Bizarre Border #written by De Writer

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