#i might cruise over and see if there's anything that i could fill in like less than 5k

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Sneaking Around

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Spencer are keeping a relationship a secret from your brother, Derek

Square Filled: "don't you touch her." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You don’t ever want to leave this bed. It feels too damn good to want to start your day. Spencer has been up for a while just watching you sleep. He likes to see your eyes flit back and forth underneath your eyelids as he wonders what you might be dreaming about. Where do you go when you fall asleep? Based on the smile on your face, your dream is about him.

“Darling. Wake up,” Spencer whispers and nudges his nose with yours.

You scrunch up your nose in the way he loves, the way that makes you look like a squirrel, and you open your eyes slightly. He waits until he sees your bright eyes before kissing the tip of your nose. There you go again with the cute nose scrunch.

“Why did you wake me? I was having a great dream,” you sigh happily.

“Was it about me?”

“When is it never about you?”

“Tell me what it was about.”

You yawn and move away to get a better look at him.

“Well, I was on this boat and it wasn’t a cruise ship-type boat but like a sailboat. You know, the one Rossi lets us use sometimes. We were in the middle of nowhere but we didn’t feel lost or felt scared. We felt content. I decided to go swimming so I jumped into the water, but then I grew a mermaid tail and you were so jealous because I swam faster than you. You jumped into the water to see if you could grow a tail but couldn’t. So, I decided to take you to my underwater world where we had fish children and ate kelp all the time.”

“Sounds adventurous,” Spencer laughs.

“It was weird,” you giggle.

“So, while you were snoring,” you push Spencer away playfully, “I was thinking maybe we can go up to your parents’ cabin this weekend.”

“That sounds ama—wait,” you sigh, “we can’t. Derek is having his friends over. He’s taking the weekend to do whatever it is they plan on doing. The last thing I need is to be caught by him.”

It’s not that Derek doesn’t approve of your relationship with Spencer, it’s just he’s so protective over you. You have nothing to do with the police or the FBI, and he doesn’t want you getting mixed up in that life. It’s bad enough he’s in it, he doesn’t want to add another person you could possibly lose. He’s only looking out for you, and you understand that, but you fell in love with Spencer the second he introduced you two.

You two have been seeing each other behind his back, and it’s been working out so far.

“Maybe we can rent a hotel room, then. I really want to go away with you for the weekend.”

“I’d like that,” you grin.

You lean over and kiss him, but the kiss is anything but short and sweet. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your head spin. The kind of kiss that makes you want to do very bad things with him. The kind of kiss that makes you fall in love with him all over again. The kiss gets heated very quickly and he pulls you onto his lap so you can feel how hard you’re making him.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and your brother can be heard laughing downstairs.

“Reid! You here?”

“Shit,” you gasp.

You scramble off Spencer and fall off the bed toward the window. Spencer laughs at your panic just as you crawl underneath his bed. Seconds later, Derek opens Spencer’s bedroom door, and you cover your mouth to keep quiet. Spencer doesn’t mind that Derek barges in whenever he wants. With him are Matt and Luke, and the latter smirks at the flushed look on Spencer’s face.

“Why is Y/N’s car here?”

“She dropped it off here,” Spencer thinks quickly. “She took an Uber to hang out with the girls. She didn’t want to drive, and it was cheaper to get one from here than her house.”

Luke looks around the room and sees your toes underneath the bed. He smirks but doesn’t comment on it.

“When she gets back, she can sleep in the guest room.”

“No problem,” Spencer shrugs.

“Don’t you touch her,” Derek points at him.

“I won’t. Why did you come here? Not that I don’t love your company.”

Spencer doesn’t want to get up because then they’ll see the boner he has.

“We’re going to a baseball game. Want to come?”

“No, thank you. I have a bunch of books to get through.”

“I can wait ten minutes,” Derek laughs.

“Maybe next time.”

“Alright. Let me know when she gets home safe.”

“Sure thing.”

The three men leave the room and Spencer busts out laughing at the situation.

“Shut up,” you glare and hit the underside of his bed. You crawl out from underneath it when you know it’s safe to do so. You kneel on the bed and kiss him lovingly. “Derek may be my brother, but he’s not the boss of me. I love you with all my heart, but I better go before he sees me.”

“We gotta tell him soon.”

“I know but sneaking around with you is so much fun,” you wink.

Instead of leaving through the bedroom door like a normal person, you sneak out of the window where there is a tree that slopes down, giving you the perfect escape route. Spencer watches you go with a chuckle, glad that someone like you is in his life.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fictino #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

[https-sonshine]

Also cruising with sonny late night listening to music in his car 🥹🥲

His hand on ur thigh windows down and you could be singing to him

*sure thing by Miguel*

authors note: heyy, here's your request. i wasn't sure what vibe/genre you were going for but hopefully, you'll like this. i think this might be one of my personal favs

word count: approx 1.1k words

warnings: none, pure fluff maybe a twinge of angst if you squint your eyes

_________________________________________________

"Come on, I can't sleep." Son's comment elicited a sleepy groan from the girl beside him.

"So you won't go on a drive with me? He lowered his head until his face was almost touching yours.

"Sonny, it's 1 AM." you stirred, your eyes still closed. 

"And?" he said before brushing your forehead with his lips.

He observes as you scoff at the sheer audacity he has to wake you up.

"Come on, you've been down since you came back from France, the drive will cheer you up, and I want to see my favourite girl smile," he whined. You groaned but then reluctantly opened your eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'll even buy you food." He said, trying to bribe you. You rolled your eyes, and a small smile escaped your lips 

Not only because the food sounded good but so did spending time with Son. It's true that you've been upset over the last few days. It was also true that it had something to do with your recent trip to France. But you weren't ready to talk about it yet, and you are grateful to Sonny for not pressuring you to open up. 

"Fine," you grumble, "But I better get my food." 

"I swear all you do is eat. Maybe your new nickname should be piggy," he said before breaking into his famous laugh, which quickly died down once he caught you sending daggers.

"Do you want to go on a drive alone? I swear you hang around Dele too much," you said, rolling your eyes before getting up from the bed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hugged you from behind, leaning heavily on you.

"I can't change with you on me." You shook your head, attempting to ignore the warmth his embrace provided. 

"Say you forgive me." He leaned away and looked into your eyes, his expression pleading for understanding 

"I forgive you," you uttered the words reluctantly, unsure if you meant them.

He turned you around in his hands. "I don't believe you."

 You sighed, your anger dissipating as you looked into his eyes. You couldn't stay mad at him when he looked at you with that adorable pout.

"I," you say softly, kissing his neck.

"For" you, leave one on his left cheek.

"Give", and you leave another on his right.

"You," you let out before lightly connecting your lips with his.

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

You had to admit that drives with Sonny were the best. You felt something you couldn't put into words as the two of you watched the world fade together. His hand was gently resting inside your thigh. A feeling you wouldn't trade. You felt safe, secure, and deeply connected to him.

He turns on the music, and that's what fills the silence inside the car. 

You are a big fan of r&b music, so it wasn't a surprise that you were singing along to the chorus of Sure Thing not very long into the drive.

Even when the sky comes falling

Even when the sun don't shine

I got faith in you and I

He wished that he could tell what you were thinking. He didn't want to admit it, but he was addicted to the girl sitting beside him. He knew he wasn't your usual type. He was surprised you two lasted so long. But he was grateful for meeting you. All he wanted to do was remove all the pain in your life and replace it with joy.

So put your pretty little hand in mine. 

Finally, you sang, squeezing his hand with your tighs and making him look.

You closed your eyes and bopped your head in time to the music, seemingly oblivious to anything around you. Son was completely captivated; he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

"You might want to pay attention to the road unless you want us to die," you said with a hint of playfulness. Your words startled him out of his trance.

 Son smiles at you and listens to you sing for the rest of the drive.

At some point during your trip, you guys stopped to get food. Doing rock, paper, scissors to decide who would choose the place to eat. You won and settled on some maccies. You two sat in the car, belting out tunes while eating, having the time of your lives no worries, and completely stress-free. 

 You wished every day could be like this.

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

When you looked out the window, the people, the lights, the trees, and the night sky all blurred together into one chaotic palette. 

It was as if only you and Son existed, with everyone else a mere speck on the canvas of your life.

With the man beside you, contentment was the only emotion you felt. Even that was an understatement.

You were slowly lulled to sleep by the light breeze on your face, your mouth slightly open and a calm expression on your face. Son smiled to himself as he stopped at a red light. He leaned across and gently kissed the crown of your head. His lips lingered for a moment longer, and he inhaled deeply before closing his eyes, savouring the moment. A fragment of your singing had stuck in his mind, and he recalled it.

If you be the cash, I'll be the rubber band

You be the match, I will be a fuse, boom!

You sang, your face hidden behind your hands. Your face only reappeared as you said the final word. He could tell you loved the way the song made you feel as you danced back and forth in your seat.

Painter baby, you could be the muse

I'm the reporter, baby you could be the news

He was wide-eyed, so amused by you and your voice. You could have fooled him into thinking he was a pirate and you were a siren trying to entice him. It was like he was stuck in a trance, absolutely in awe.

'Cause you're the cigarette and I'm the smoker

We raise a bet 'cause you're the joker

You poked his shoulder with a grin. His heart skipped a beat, and he smiled as he watched you. Everyone has an addiction, and he was sure you were his.

Checked off, you are the chalk and I could be the blackboard

And you can be the talk and I could be the walk

As you sang quietly, you didn't notice the man watching you with a flushed face and a lovesick look on his face. The words "I love you" came out of his mouth unexpectedly.

You stopped singing, stunned and embarrassed by the sudden outburst.

You were so flustered, and he thought it was adorable. The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile broadens.

With those precious moments of your angelic voice, he knew you were the girl he wanted to marry.

#son heung min #son heung min fanfic #son heung min imagines #son heung min x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #https.sonshinerequests #son heung min one shot #tottenham hotspur

[sendtoaskbox]

sentence starters from 13 going on 30 !

"i hate you! i hate me! i hate everybody!"

"thirty and flirty and thriving."

"you went on a cruise without me?"

"oh, this is a dream. a really weird dream."

"i can't get in the car. i don't get in the car with strangers."

"are you really my best friend?"

"oh god. not his thingy."

"if you're going to start lying about your age, i'd go with 27."

"are you high? you been smoking pot? doing x? falling into a k-hole?"

"i'm going to a party in a limo!"

"it's because i've got these incredible boobs to fill it out!"

"do you want to see my i.d? totally have it."

"it's 11 o'clock on a school night and i'm at a party. this is so cool."

"you are rude and mean and sloppy and frizzy. i don't like you at all."

"i almost didn't recognize you. did you get a nose job?"

"i owe you one raunchy striptease."

"how come we never stayed friends?"

"if you were given one do-over, anything in your life, what would it be?"

"i could really use this, but you don't need to do me any favors."

"you know what i wish i had right now? razzles."

"since when do you keep me out of the loop? i'm really freaking out here."

"oh, which one do you want to be today? the pot or the kettle? if you don't mind i'd like to be the pot. maybe the kettle. it doesn't really matter. they're both black."

"i might have told them something else too, but i just can't remember."

"...you wouldn't be getting ready to marry someone right now unless that someone were me."

"i have felt things these past few weeks... that i didn't know i could feel anymore."

"please don't cry."

"go on. i'm fine. i'm just crying because i'm happy. i want you to be so, so happy."

"i love you. you're my best friend."

"i've always loved you."

#rp meme #ask meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme #indie rp #inbox meme #starter meme #rp sentence starters #rp sentence prompts #sentence prompts #romance starters #movie starters #hm #sentence #movie

[thevulcanbobdylan]

Tag Game

@cryscal gave me the following words to find in my writings: stubborn, rain, discovery, and minute.

I found the first three in Looking Through Glass. It's a post-canon fix-it fic that I wrote with my whole heart

Stubborn:

And then they were flying. Words were still spilling out of him - he was senseless, barely hanging on, and he found himself overflowing, speaking just to fill the silence. He spoke of a cabin, and a garden, and anything lovely that he could imagine, just to postpone the moment when he’d have to turn and look and find her gone. A movement caught his eye, and his gaze flickered to her involuntarily. One thin hand had fallen lifeless at her side, and his heart leapt into his throat. This was it, then. Letting the raptor cruise, feeling as though he might simply lose consciousness and depart along with her, he turned and took her hand in both of his. The hope in him was stubborn, and he felt for a pulse against the cool skin of her wrist. A long moment, during which his own heart stood still - and then he felt it.

Rain:

He often came here to watch the birds. They were beautiful, larger and more varied than any they’d known in the Colonies, but named for their honorary ancestors just the same. The eagles were noble and majestic; the vultures were sinister; but the hawks were something in between, keen and discerning - untethered and free. When one of them swept over him in a wide arc, he murmured to it: “What do you hear, Starbuck?” “Nothing but the rain.” It didn’t startle him that she answered. He didn’t have to turn to her, to know that she sat framed against the rich green of the grass, her yellow hair glinting in the sun. “Been a long time,” he said.

Discovery:

Gone was the shaky, gaunt woman he’d carried in his arms from his raptor and laid in the lush grass of this place. Even the president, brilliant and shrewd and always carefully measured, seemed to have taken a backseat to this new Laura who emerged more every day. It was someone Bill had never seen - someone he had glimpsed, perhaps, or hoped to meet. This Laura was warm and mirthful, with eyes that sparkled and pale skin that flushed when she spoke passionately about something. Bill saw in her the devoted oldest sister; the kind and compassionate teacher. He thought he was seeing the person she might’ve become - or perhaps the woman she’d been, long ago. It stirred something deep and aching in him - made him want to touch her, to explore and rediscover her. But something always stayed his hand, resting softly against her skin just shy of the warm, tender places he longed for. “I’m not made of glass,” she would remind him, half teasing, and he would protest that of course he knew that. He knew.

Minute: this last one is from my WIP. It's a post-canon sequel to BSG titled The Phosphorus Gate

The Hybrid indicated that they were nearing their destination, and warned of shipwide power-down in ten minutes. It was time for Sam to assume his own watch. The other two tanks sat across the room, giving Laura’s the illusion of privacy. Sam gazed into the occupied one. Kara had always looked so childlike in sleep, as though she might wake up laughing. His fingers hovered over the gel, just above her cheek, but he didn’t make contact. “I hope you were right about all this,” he said softly. Then he slipped out of his white shirt and trousers, and tucked them away beneath his own tank. “I’ve done this once before, you know,” he remarked to Kara when his toes were poised above the waiting gel. “But a few thousand years sounds like a long frakking time right about now.”

I'm not gonna tag anyone to avoid causing stress, but I would love, love, love to see any of my mutuals do this game. Take "shaking", "soft", "follow", and "breath" for yourself if you do 💛

#roslin x adama #bsg #bsg fanfic #writing asks

[duckybarnes1917]

Your Eyes Outshine The Town...Chapter 17

Bucky Barnes x Black Female Reader

18+ ONLY

Summary: You and Bucky make the trip to meet his extended family. Things are a bit overwhelming for both you when you realize his family is not what you expected.

Warnings: Anxiety. Microaggressions.

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

The Day After Christmas

Bucky stuffed his metal hand into his pocket as he walked into the coffee shop that had quickly become your favorite. You were waiting for him in the car which he had double parked. He realized he had spent so much time with you since you had moved in that being alone even for these few minutes had his anxiety rising quickly. Without your fingers intertwined with his metal ones, he felt unmoored. People stared at him openly, taking pictures sneakily as he kept his eyes trained on the floor. Things had been worse. Back before he was granted his pardon, people were much more forward. Ugly stares and insults were not uncommon. At that time, he rarely left his apartment. How could he when every ugly detail of his life was constantly breaking news? He truly didn’t know how he survived it. 

Bucky went through the motions of ordering coffee and moved to the side to wait. How much of his trial had his family seen? Was it naïve to hope they hadn’t seen any of it? That they hadn’t watched the constant attacks that passed as news? 

“Bucky!” 

Bucky frowned when the cheery barista that now recognized him as a regular called his name over the sizeable crowd. 

The barista, a college kid with an optimistic smile, scanned the room, looking past Bucky’s big frame for you. 

“She’s in the car.” 

The barista nodded, handing Bucky his drinks. “Well, tell her I say hi!”

Bucky raised his brows in response. Maybe he didn’t need to be worried about what his family knew or didn’t know. They’d be too distracted by you, just like everyone else. Even when you weren't in the room, you outshined him. 

Bucky finally gave the barista a small smile. “I’ll tell her. Happy Holidays, kid.” 

**

“One vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Bucky handed you the latte before he sat his plain black coffee in the cup holder. 

You popped the lid off the cup and inhaled deeply. “Perfect. Want some extra spice in yours?” You held out a small vodka bottle and a little flask you had filled with Asgardian ale. 

Bucky laughed and shook his head, “No, but maybe when we get there.”

“Suit yourself,” You shrugged and dropped the flask back into your purse before twisting the cap off the mini vodka bottle. 

Bucky focused on easing the car back into traffic. He didn’t blame you for needing a little help to get through the day; he was actively fighting the pit of anxiety threatening to open and swallow him whole.  

“How long is the drive?” You asked as you gulped down your coffee. 

“About five hours. If I drive fast.” 

“Damn,” you took another big drink of your coffee. “I’m sure the traffic will lighten up once we’re out of the city.” 

You rubbed Bucky’s thigh. You always knew when he was getting overwhelmed. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Being late should not be at the top of his worry list right now. The longer you rubbed his thigh, the harder it was for him to think of anything that should be at the top of the list. 

**  

Several hours later, you were cruising through little suburbs and large stretches of open road. The scenery, large trees dusted in snow, and the occasional deer made you feel like you had left more than just the city behind. The anxiety you had been trying to ignore the entire drive dissipated for a moment as you imagined the life you would lead if you lived here. Out in the quiet, open, calm. 

“It’s pretty out here,” you said casually, stretching in your seat.  

“Yeah? I thought you liked the city?” Bucky questioned. 

“I do, but–I don’t know, it might be nice to live out here… someday.” 

Bucky smiled, “someday?” 

“You know what I mean,” you muttered, not quite meeting his eyes. 

Bucky lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “Tell me.” 

Your tongue swiped over your bottom lip. “Someday, when things are normal, and we have a baby and….” 

“Fuck,” Bucky let you go and turned his attention back to the road. “You’re gonna make us late.” 

“How–”

“Because I’m seconds away from pulling this car over and fucking you right where you’re sitting.” 

You had to bite your tongue to keep from begging him for it. Once you had control over yourself, you opened your mouth. “If I thought I could fuck you without ruining my hair and outfit, I would beg you for your cock right now.” 

“Sweetheart–” Bucky warned, shifting in his seat. 

“I know, I know. Maybe on the way back, though.” 

“Promise?” 

You rubbed his thigh again, “promise.” 

** 

You woke up just as Bucky pulled into the driveway of a large house set against tall pine trees and the cloudy gray sky. An ornate gate decorated with giant wreaths opened automatically to allow his entrance. 

You blinked your eyes to clear your vision. This hadn’t been what you expected at all. 

This house was old and big. Enormous white pillars, decorated with garland, wrapped around the front of the house, making it look like a museum, not someone’s home. Brand new, shiny cars filled the circle driveway. Christmas decorations decorated the expansive lawn; large candy canes, giant glittery ornaments, a full-sized Santa’s sleigh with all 8 reindeer, and a tall white cross covered in twinkling lights. You felt like you were inside a snow globe. It was gorgeous, but you felt a sudden rush of anxiety; everything about this was screaming GET OUT. That was a ridiculous reaction; it was Bucky’s family–but your anxiety spiked again as you looked around and realized there were no other houses in sight. Bucky didn’t know these people; what if it was an elaborate trap and his sister wasn’t even here?

Bucky parked the car and you grabbed his arm tight to keep him from getting out. 

“What’s wrong? You look sick.” Bucky turned in his seat to hold your face. 

“I just–I need a minute.” 

Bucky nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. You avoided his worried gaze as you took deep breaths and reached for his dog tags on instinct. The raised letters of his name brought you back down to Earth. 

“Talk to me.” Bucky kissed your forehead. 

“I’m–afraid.” You wouldn’t look at him, embarrassment scorching through you. 

“There’s nothing–” 

“Yes, there is.” You cut him off and gripped his dog tags tighter. “What if it’s a trap? The Power Broker–” 

“Oh.” Bucky smoothed the worry line from your face. “Don’t worry about that, I trust Shuri. She did her research.”

Of course she did. What were you thinking? But your nerves still didn’t lessen. 

“What if they don’t like me? Did you–tell them?” 

“Of course I told them I was bringing you. They’ll love you–”

“No, do they know I’m black?”

Bucky paused for a moment, at a loss for words. “Um, should I have told them?” 

You were barely listening to him, continuing down your spiral of anxiety. “What if–I mean, I know it’s your family but Bucky, this place screams all lives matter.” 

Before Bucky could respond, the front door opened and several people stepped out onto the porch, all dressed to the nines and smiling excitedly in their direction. One man with cropped brown hair stepped forward and waved them on. 

“Oh god,” you gulped. 

“Hey breathe, everything is going to be fine. We’ll stay right here until you’re ready, okay?” 

 You nodded and closed your eyes again. You could feel Bucky gesturing through the window, buying you some more time to get yourself together. This was ridiculous. How many dangerous missions had you been on? And meeting Bucky’s family was what made you freeze in fear?

“Sweetheart?” Bucky called gently, bringing you back from your thoughts. 

“I’m okay, we can go. I’m sorry.” 

Bucky took off his dog tags and placed them around your neck. “Will that help?” 

You smiled slightly and tucked them under your shirt. The cold metal against your chest had a strange, calming effect. You nodded. 

“The second you feel uncomfortable, we’ll leave. Okay?” 

“Thank you,” You met his eyes, “are you good?” 

Bucky nodded, his face determined. “I’m always good when I’m with you.” 

Finally, you grinned and Bucky kissed your cheek before exiting the car and leading you up the steps. 

**

Bucky hadn’t known what to expect, but the mammoth of a house had not been it. He gripped your hand tighter and tighter the closer he got to the people waiting for you both at the top of the steps. It was odd. They looked vaguely familiar, like a face you’ve seen in a dream but don’t recognize. Connor looked a little like him. He had the same shade of brown hair, the same blue eyes. But his jaw was rounder, his smile bigger. Maybe that’s what Bucky would have looked like in another life. One where there had been plenty of food on the table, where he spent his time indoors with his books like he wanted. He looked away from Connor, quickly scanning the others. The blonde next to him must be his wife, Deena. She was petite in every sense of the word. Even in her white heels, she barely reached Connor’s shoulder. Behind them, there were several older people. One man using a walker looked how Bucky would have if he hadn’t been frozen in time. An older woman looked so much like his sister Becca that Bucky stuttered in his step and you  placed your hand on his arm to urge him forward. Several kids of various ages peeked out between the legs of the adults, wary but curious. 

“James!” Connor stepped forward and met him a few steps down. “So glad you made it.”

Bucky felt your hand squeeze his tighter as you unconsciously tried to hide behind his larger frame. He stood up a little straighter and put a smile on his face. 

“Connor, thanks for having us.” 

Connor turned his bright smile to you and held out his hand. “Welcome!” 

You gave him a small smile and took his hand. Connor pulled you into a hug, and Bucky saw Deena shake her head. 

“Oh–” you exclaimed. “Nice to meet you.” You glanced back at Bucky and he gave you an encouraging nod. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone. And surprise! Betty is waiting for us inside. Didn’t want ya to have to make two long drives in one day.” 

Bucky didn’t register the names of everyone he was introduced to. Once Connor told him Betty was inside, that’s all he could focus on. He smiled and shook hands and gave hugs, but his mind was already inside with his sister.

**

You were good with names. Connor. Deena. Mark. Charles. Joan. Such mundane, classic American names. These people were not at all what you had expected. Not a hair was out of place. Their teeth were pearly white, their smiles big and wide. They looked like fucking Kennedys. Bucky had never once given off trust-fund vibes. 

“I love your hair.” Laura, a 30-something icy blonde, held your hand too long. Her eyes sparkled as she stared at your carefully styled curls. 

“Thanks,” your voice wavered, the statement coming out like a question. 

“Absolutely stunning,” Laura’s wife, Rachel, chimed in. “Is it real?”

“Oh, is it a–what are they called–weave?” 

“Nope. All mine.” You finally got her hand out of Laura’s grip and dodged Rachel’s hand as it reached for your hair. “Lovely to meet you both.” 

You looked around for an exit, only to be reminded that you were in the middle of nowhere and there was no escape. Your eyes found Bucky next. He was being hugged tightly by Charles and Joan, Becca’s kids–his niece and nephew. Would that ever not be weird? 

“This way!” Deena looped her arm through yours and led you through the front door and toward the kitchen. “Sorry about them. They can be a lot. I’m sure you’re ready for a drink.” 

“Oh god, yes, please.” You liked her already. 

Don’t forget to reblog! 😉

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

Taglist: @delaber @mannien @raindrcpsangel @cjand10

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x black female reader #tfatws fic #bucky barnes christmas #dom!bucky

[abronzeagegod]

Untitled YA Novel Chapter 8: The Gang’s All Here

First Chapter || More

3:19 PM local time

Chicago, Algonquin State, United States of America

“You really expect us to get on a plane with you?” Justin asked Mister Collins.

“When you put it like that it sounds like a terrible idea,” the teacher responded. “But you’re out of good choices. I’ve quit my job to take up the job offer I got from my old employer at Untouched Horizons. Your father has been detained by a yet unidentified government agency. There is something much much bigger going on than just us.”

“I still don’t care for this,” Justin muttered, “this whole thing is too much.”

“I’m with you,” Mike said. “But at least Mister Collins is someone we know, and he saved you from the Feds that tried to arrest you.”

“Will you answer my questions?” Justin asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you a spy?” Justin yelled over the start up of the engines, but didn’t move to get on the small plane.

“Something of the sort,” Mister Collins yelled back with a smile as he climbed into the plane.

“Hell yes,” Mike said, wide eyed and excited. “This might be the best.”

Justin rolled his eyes. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. This might just be an adventure. Like in the movies.

“You don’t have to come, Mike,” Justin said quietly, lamely. Of course he wanted Mike to come with, he was his best friend, his only friend. But this was starting to seem extremely big. Bigger than was fair to put his friend through.

“Justin. You don’t mean that,” Mike commented. “You’re my best friend, and if you think for a second I’m not coming with you to help you out of whatever problems you’ve got, then you don’t know me as well as you think.”

Justin smiled at his friend.

“Besides, if you think that I’m missing out on finding out what kind of super spy Mister Collins is and what fun gadgets he’s got on his super plane, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Justin laughed, probably for the first time in the last day or two.

“Gentlemen,” Mister Collins called from the plane, “we really should be going.”

The two boys shared a brief look before running up and climbing aboard the plane.

Much to Mike’s disappointment, the plane was not filled with gadgets or super secret high tech spy things. It just seemed to be a relatively small, private plane.

“At least the snacks are good,” Mike muttered as he dove into a package of chocolate cookies with relish.

Once the plane had taken off and was cruising, Mister Collins returned from the cockpit.

“Our pilot has everything well in hand,” he said as he took a seat across from the boys. “Now, I assume you have lots of questions so I will explain what I can now, and let you ask away, as I’m sure you’ll find some questions will be answered. Try not to fall asleep during this lecture, Mister Ogden.”

Justin smirked at Mike getting called out.

“We are currently heading towards Si Yátz.”

“Really?” The zlilfian island?” Justin asked, amazing. They almost never let humans on the island, but he’s seen some pictures and stuff from documentaries and things.

“Yes, that is where Untouched Horizons is based and where we will get more concrete answers and assistance.”

Mike looked excitedly at Justin as he mouthed, “Wow!”

Justin was skeptical. “I thought that they were picky about what humans could visit the island. And I don’t have a passport.”

Mister Collins nodded. “You are correct. My zlilfian friends have made a few exceptions in the past and as valuable witnesses, the two of you are given temporary leave to set foot on the island. As for the passport thing, I think the number of laws we’ve broken already not having a passport is the least of our worries.”

“What about you?” Justin asked.

“Oh, I’ve been on Si Yátz many times. You see, for most of my youth I was something of an asset for Untouched Horizons. Think of them as the zlilfian equivalent of the CIA.”

“I knew it!” Mike yelled out. “You are a spy!”

“Of a kind,” Mister Collins said with a sly little smile. “I wasn’t concerned with national security secrets or military movements or defense secrets. Untouched Horizons is much more concerned with something they only know as The Silence.”

Justin shuddered. There was something about how Mister Collins said those last two words that made him uncomfortable. “Is that what’s at my house?”

Mister Collins nodded slowly. “This is a very dangerous secret so I trust you will keep this to yourselves.”

Justin and Mike nodded eagerly, waiting for more information.

“You see, in the zlilfian language the prefix ‘si’ means new. So…” Mister Collins said in that teacherly way to try and encourage his students to complete the thought.

“So Si Yátz means “New Yatz” or whatever. This isn’t their first home,” Justin answered.

“Yes, very good, Mister Oswada. Si Yátz is their second home, as The Silence destroyed their first home. The zlilfians that are alive today are the descendants of the refugees that escaped Yatz.”

“Where is Yatz?” Mike asked. “What happened there?”

Mister Collins leaned back in his chair. “I honestly don’t know. I was never much of a historical scholar, and there are some secrets that the zlilfians guard very dearly. I suspect that the island sank or was otherwise destroyed.”

Mike nodded. “I bet it was Atlantis. Or maybe that’s why the Bermuda Triangle exists.”

Justin sighed, closed his eyes, and then shook his head. Mike was a great friend, but sometimes the ideas he has are… interesting.

“It is very possible,” Mister Collins said in that same tone of voice that was teacher-speak for ‘I don’t want to discourage your thoughts and opinions but that was also a very dumb thing that you just said and definitely isn’t the case’. “Anyways, Untouched Horizons is an extremely old Great House of Si Yátz, and while every House has a specialty, usually in tending  to one of the unique crops or animal life on the island, Untouched Horizons specializes in scouting and seeking out their old enemy. I was an operator for them through much of the sixties and seventies, as well as a liaison for most of the eighties.”

“What did you do?” Mike asked excitedly.

“A little bit of this and that,” Mister Collins told them as he absentmindedly rubbed the scars on his face. “I’m sure those activities are still liable to get me shot if the wrong people heard about them.”

Mike went wide eyed and looked at Justin with another “wow!” expression.

“I’m sure you’ve led a fascinating life and all,” Justin said, a little unfairly, but he did have bigger concerns. “But what does this have to do with me and why is this at my house?”

Mister Collins’ expression darkened. “I wish I had an answer for you Justin. But I do not know. This is the first active move from The Silence, as far as I’m aware. As for why you? That is another mystery. I don’t know what makes you, or your house special. I don’t know what agency has claimed jurisdiction over the area or why it resulted in the arrest of your father. The one thing I do know is that Untouched Horizons will have more answers, and you will be safe there.”

Justin nodded and slipped into a contemplative silence.

Mike suddenly realized something and spoke up. “What about my mom? And school? We’re all missing.”

“An excellent question. As for your mother, we have told her that the two of you were winners on a school trip as the previous winners came down sick. You had to leave right after school to make it on time. Something about a college scholar summit that is offering scholarships to any college in the country.”

“Yeah, mom will love that,” Mike responded.

“As for me, well, teaching just isn’t for me, so I quit. It’s not the first time I’ve left a job suddenly. But for you Mister Oswada, we shall have to construct something when we know exactly what we are dealing with. For now, I’d sit back and try to relax. The flight is long and you’ll find that in this line of work there’s little rest to be found, so you should savor it when you can.”

The flight over Si Yátz was amazing for the two boys who never had a chance to see the island in person before. It was almost bowl shaped, with large cliffs surrounding the entire island that were easily 40 feet straight up to a low wall that surrounded the entire island, except for two key positions that functioned as ports.

They flew over the lush, large, pristine jungle full of tall, broad trees with strange shapes and fruits growing on them, some big and bright enough to be spotted from the plane. They spotted a few city lights but the one that they flew into seemed pretty average sized. But it was extremely off putting to see a city made almost entirely of wood. The buildings weren’t as tall as they were in the cities the human boys were familiar with. And the architecture was strange, slightly curved and soft angles everywhere instead of corners and squares. It looked strange and alien but exciting.

The plane landed at a small runway and they were greeted almost immediately by a small squad of zlilfians. They didn’t seem to be noticeably armed, but Justin was still wary. He’d seen a few zlilfians in real life here or there, but never so up close.

Mister Collins went to move off the plane first. “You boys better stay here for the moment. And be polite. That’s especially applicable here, but it’s also good life advice.”

Their now former teacher went outside and Mike and Justin tried to listen in, but apparently their teacher had a firm grasp of the zlilfian language and spoke in the strange tongue that neither boy understood.

“Alright,” Mister Collins called after a few moments, “everyone off the plane. Unless you’d rather back out. This plane is immediately bound back home so this is your last chance to duck out.”

Neither boy moved back towards the plane.

“Right, well, follow me and don’t wander off or touch anything,” Mister Collins warned. “We are guests here, so don’t anger our hosts by being rude.”

Justin and Mike were led through the zlilfian complex, it was strange to see a modern building, a modern city, made out of so much wood. It made everything feel darker in the rapidly approaching night. There were plenty of windows and warm lighting, but the pervasive, dark woods that made up so many of the structures made Justin and Mike instinctively keep quiet and to themselves more so than they would have usually.

There was something off putting about the architecture too. There were so many more curves and gentle slopes to everything, rarely a hard corner or a right angle. Which was both incredibly detailed and surely difficult to craft out of wood. But it gave everything around the humans a vaguely alien feel. Like they had been transported to an entirely different world.

It was mildly unsettling, especially for their first visit.

All three humans were deposited in a long room that felt like any given conference room in any number of buildings back in the human world. Corners and right angles offered just as much comfort as the human chairs did.

“My friend Alt should be here soon to meet with us,” Mister Collins said as he took the closest seat and sat down.

Sure enough, not even two minutes later, in walked two zlilfians. One a few inches taller than the other, but both of them were short compared to Justin, and tiny compared to Mike. The two sets of eyes, the smaller compound ones sitting above the big, wide binocular eyes looked at the human visitors. Each had the typical features of a zlilfian, the eyes, the antennae, and the pincer-like mandibles around their mouths that Justin dimly remembered learning they used to open a variety of hard nuts and fruits.

The black and yellow coloring was vastly different, the taller had a more even spread and seemed to be losing some of the luster of the color, while the shorter one had a big splash of color right in the middle of their face.

“Leonard!” said the taller of the two zlilfians. His English was good, better than Justin would have expected.

Mister Collins, Leonard, stood up and greeted his friend, shaking his hand vigorously. “Alt! My friend! It’s been too long.”

“How is the family? How is Kieth?”

“He’s big into gardening now, but I keep telling him it’s fall in the Midwest, I don’t know why he bothers. I’m sure he’s disappointed right now that I took up the old job, but I bet he isn’t surprised.” He smiled and then cleared his throat. “Alt, these are my students Justin and Mike. I believe you spoke to Justin on the phone briefly.”

“Hello gentlemen,” Alt said as he moved closer to shake the hands of the slightly stunned boys. They couldn’t help but notice and feel the fine hair all over the zlilfian’s body and hands. “I am Alt of House Untouched Horizons. And this is Hira of House Kaiyantsh.”

The other zlilfian, Hira, nodded politely at the humans but she didn’t speak.

“Everyone grab a seat,” Alt said after a moment of awkward quiet. “And then Mister Justin can tell us his story.”

“Why am I here?” Hira asked, Alt in her native language. “What does this have to do with finding Rafe?”

“I know you can speak English, so please, do not exclude our guests,” Alt said, quietly. “You are here because you are involved too. And I want everyone in the same room, to share their stories and set the record straight. I thought it would be polite to let our guests go first.”

Hira shrank back slightly, chastised. She didn’t want to be rude, she just wanted to do something, she didn’t want to sit and talk about doing things or, even worse, go over what happened to her, again.

Alt and Hira sat on a pair of strangely shaped stools, Justin assumed it was so that they could sit and not crush their wings or sit on their stingers. He was deeply curious about the stingers and wanted to ask but it seemed rude and how was he to bring that up in conversation.

He sat in one of the regular human shaped chairs, and once again told his story.

There were no questions or interruptions by anyone, not counting the occasional color commentary provided courtesy of Mike. That was until he got to the part of where he got home to find government agents at his house.

As he was telling the story, Hira suddenly interrupted. “Looked like, the man in the beard.” Justin looked at her with a perplexed expression. “Forgive me. The man with the beard, what did he look like?” Her brain was still trying to think and speak in zlilfian. She remembered the words in English but not in the right order for the language.

“He was tall. Well built. I mean he was in shape, as far as I could tell. Middle aged, possibly late forties. Close kept beard. Hair was on the shorter side and starting to go a bit gray. I only got a good look at him for a split second.”

“That man! He was the one I saw!”

Alt raised a hand, holding off Hira’s story. “Please. Hold for just a moment, we will get to your story soon. And I don’t want to start concocting theories before I have the whole pattern in front of me.”

Hira went quiet, her wings shaking slightly in annoyance.

Justin’s story wrapped up shortly thereafter.

“A few quick questions before we move on. Did you notice any growing Silence spots in your home before it took over your whole house?” Alt asked.

Justin shook his head. “If it was there it was too small to really notice. When I went to bed that night it was normal. I know because my neighbor’s girlfriend left at almost midnight and her music is always really loud in her car. Wakes me up almost every time.”

Alt nodded. He didn’t seem to be taking any notes but he had a look and feel about him that said he was remembering every single thing that was said.

“One last question for you. What does your father do as an occupation?”

Justin took a second to respond. It wasn’t what he expected to be asked. “He’s a professor at one of the colleges downtown. He teaches marine biology and ocean sciences.”

Alt nodded. “Thank you.” After a moment’s pause to share a look with Mister Collins, Alt turned to Hira, “if you can please share your story with us.”

Hira stood up and talked as she paced. She blazed through her story without interruption. It took Mike and Justin a minute to get used to Hira’s speech pattern. She had a habit of slipping into a weird sentence structure that made it hard for them to follow sometimes. But once they got used to it, her story was easier to follow.

Mike looked like he had a million questions to ask besides the standard language barrier things, but Justin kicked him under the table.

Alt nodded again when Hira finished her story. This time he stood up and retrieved two small files that he handed to Justin and Hira.

“Inside you’ll see a small photo array of different men that we feel meet your shared description. I would like you to take a moment and look them over carefully and select the one you think is the man you saw. If you don’t see him, please, do not select someone who is close. Only if you see him. Circle the one and then hand the folder back. Please do not say anything out loud, as I would like this test to be as unbiased as possible.”

Justin nodded and opened the file folder, his hands were suddenly shaking and nervous. In the folder were six pictures of various middle aged bearded men. They all looked fairly similar. But one of them looked extremely familiar and he knew exactly why. The fifth photo in the array was the man calling the shots at his house.

Hira looked over the array and picked out her answer in only a few seconds.

The two handed their sheets back to Alt who looked them over and let out a strange, low hum, that perplexed Justin and Mike but Hira and Mister Collins knew meant concern and anxiety.

“There can be little doubt now,” Alt said. “You picked the same man, who is a noted former CIA operative and something of a zealot against zlilfians.” He stood up and pressed a button on a small remote that activated a projector. The picture of the man Justin and Hira picked out was projected on the wall. Although the picture was from the man about five or six years ago.

“This is Bradford Frost,” Alt continued. “He was in the CIA for almost two decades. He joined the army when he was 17, lying on his enlistment forms. He has been in conflict with Untouched Horizons and all zlilfians basically ever since then. We have been trying to understand the source of his hatred, but there’s only so much we can do. He suddenly retired from the intelligence community and we lost all tabs on him three years ago. We thought he might have been recruited into an even more secret agency, but we finally found him when he attacked our island a few days ago.”

Mike raised his hand tentatively. “Mister Alt?” he asked before voicing his question. “Does this guy have like… mind control powers or something?”

“We don’t know. Our information on what the Silence was like before is scarce. We suspect that he must. As there is little reason for shrar Rafe to join him.”

“Well that’s concerning,” Mike said simply.

i have a kofi

find me on pillowfort

#untitled ya novel #the gangs all here! #this is the end of part one! #my fiction

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Hello hi longtime lurker first-time asker, I am very sorry that your inbox is being filled with people being not nice about the whole...everything going on right now :-/

I know essentially nothing about boats and sea related stuff and I am always in the mood to hear about someone else's special interests, so do you have a favourite interesting or positive (inasmuch as facts about shipwrecks can be positive) fact related to that topic?

I love that story about the people on the Carpathia (because it's kinda heartwarming and bittersweet in the middle of a tragedy) but that's literally all I know about any kind of big boats tbh (also as well I would love to know what got you interested if that's okay to ask??)

aw thank you anon <333

its probably a bit cliche but my favourite ocean liner ever is the ms stockholm.

unfortunately, there arent too many good quality photos of it back when it was first launched in 1948 since you know, it was 1948. but its this beautiful, sleek ocean liner. she was the smallest passenger liner on the north atlantic run in the 50s, and idk, i just love how she looks. theres a lot of ocean liners that looked gorgeous like the ss france or ss united states, but they were both still a bit too bulky for me. compared to the stockholm which was just perfectly balanced for her small size.

you might also notice the very angular bow (front bit) and she had that bit because she sailed near the arctic sea so she needed a strong bow that could break ice.

unfortunately, it also broke a ship. im not gonna get into all the details of the collision between stockholm and the ss andrea doria, but off the coast of nantucket in july 1956, the stockholm collided at an almost 90° with the andrea doria.

this happened due to three reasons: fog making it harder to see, the stockholm sailing in the wrong lane (ships have ocean lanes like cars have roads) and the andrea doria attempting a starboard-to-starboard passing to avoid the collision despite the accepted passing being port-to-port.

(imagine youre about to walk into someone. if you both take a step to your respective lefts, that would be port-to-port. its starboard-to-starboard if you went right. but say you went right and they went left, youd collide)

the collision caused the andrea doria to begin to list to port and eventually shed capsize. the list made half the lifeboats unusable, but the crew of the stockholm were already rowing over in their lifeboats.

and the cherry on top was the arrival of the ss île de france, who took on the bulk of remaining passengers and was labelled the hero ship.

out of the 1705 people aboard, 1655 people survived. a much higher survival rate to titanic.

like the titanic wreck, the wreck of the andrea doria is the gravesite for the 51 who didnt make it. their bodies were never recovered.

unfortunately, the wreck is a popular diving spot and looters have taken everthing worth anything from the wreck over time. and even more unfortunately, at least 22 divers have died on the wreck.

once again, these wrecks should be protected by law like the fitz is or like the uss johnston is.

also, the collision completely crushed stockholms bow:

but away from the tragedy of the collision, the stockholm went on to have a very successful career. shes had 12 different owners and 12 different names:

stockholm

völkerfreundschaft

volker

fridtjof nansen

italia i

italia prima

valtur prima

caribe

athena

azores

and astoria

she was also sometimes labelled "the ship of death" due to the collision with andrea doria.

in 1989, 41 years after her launch, she was sold to star lauro lines and was converted into a cruise ship. and considering shes currently still up for sale today, she must have been a very reliable and very good cruise ship.

when she was known as athena, she was attacked by pirates in 2003. the crew prevented the pirates from boarding by firing high pressure wate Mr canons at them, but at one point twenty-nine pirate boats surrounded her. and then she was just fine and carried on with her voyage to australia m

in 2009, she got detained in france because the company had unpaid bills, and it just makes me cry laugh when they detain a whole ass ship. i just imagine some officer trying to handcuff a ship.

after the quick dip into the criminal world, she continued to sail until 2021 when she was bought by a company planning to convert her into a hotelship.

afaik, the plans were scrapped and shes back on the market, so if you somehow have the money to buy a boat, the stockholm/astoria is up for sale.

and it is fucking wild to remember that the ship that sank the andrea doria in 1956 is currently on the market and might be fixed up and ready to continue sailing.

the carpathia is a story that almost always makes me cry because its such a good example of the good that humans do. the carpathia sailed through an icefield at night at top speed, despite being much less safe than the titanic, to get there. its both heart-breaking and heart-warming.

i had a phase as a kid where i really liked big boats as well as whales and sharks, but im an afab trans guy and many family members did not think it appropriate for me.

i got back into during lockdown actually. im pretty sure i was lonely because me and my flatmate were trapped at least two hours away from our families and i hadnt seen my mom in so long. back in my first year of uni, i called her everyday.

and so there i am, feeling lonely and also being insomniac at like 3-4am maybe, and i dont know what made me think of it but suddenly i was thinking about the titanic and how lonely it must be down there all alone. im the poster kid for object empathy. and then i was just as lonely like i was reflecting that loneliness onto myself and i was near tears and just couldnt sleep.

so i gave up on sleep and realised i needed to distract myself to feel better so i just started looking up shipwrecks and ghost ships and all manner of these things. and then suddenly im watching every documentary i can find, every video on youtube and im reading someones very long essay explaining why the titanic olympic switch theory is wrong.

and here i am. it started as a hyperfixation and developed into a SpIn, and then when i could finally visit my mom and brother, i made them watch disasters at sea on the tv.

if you ever wanna learn about this sort of thing, disasters at sea is a good show to watch (its all on youtube) and oceanliner designs and big old boats on youtube are very good channels for beginners.

thank you for this ask anon <333 i really enjoyed infodumping about my favourite ship.

#anon #<3333333 #ms stockholm #my favourite ship #shipposting

[homewithliv]

Woke up with a terrible headache. Took some Excedrin as soon as I could and now over an hour later I think it's finally kicking in.

Yesterday was such a productive but long day. I got my draft submitted for a freelance gig I'm doing. It's for someone who creating an online course. Essentially she is having me create a workbook that goes with it. I felt pretty good about everything and thank goodness she is a good communicator.

I also had so much stuff to do at my real job. Lots of projects coming to a head at once. Hard sometimes to follow timelines for all the different things. But, I kicked butt and got a ton done. Today I'm wrapping up one of the bigger projects. We have a new way of submitting auths that they are deploying and I am creating a 5 part module- I'm done with 3/5 so hopefully can finish the rest today.

I also had a few calls for my catering biz yesterday. Randomly someone calls me from Florida wanting to order for a meeting luncheon she will be having here in KC. It was a last minute request but good money so I was like heck ya. We are making her some charcuterie filled letters (name of her business) some charcuterie cups and a veggie board. Super excited to create it.

Also on our list this week is - 2 large charcuterie boards, 20 cones for a real estate open house, 150 cones for a marketing firm, a 120 person wedding graze and a photo shoot of one our new cone walls. So ya super busy week and weekend ahead. I should of took off Monday. But, oh well. 😂

I've got 5 and below returns I need to do but God I hate hate doing returns. Might see if Robert will drive me there tonight. 😂 I am such a loser. I used to love driving and going places by myself. Now- no way. If I can have him go with me I'm good.

We recently have started slowly letting the kids stay home alone. My 8 and 11 year old I'm fine with but our 6 year old son. I mean I don't know.. I have read so many threads like on Reddit and it's so normal for most people to go run errands with their kids are home. It just feels weird. Granted we live in a very nice neighborhood filled with retired people- on a quiet street. BUT we live in such a huge city and it would be dumb of me to assume we were safe. We do have cameras and while we are gone we monitor them and turn the alarm on. And! Have rules in place for the kiddos. Like do not play outside- now swimming in the summer time and absolutely no cooking or heating up of food. Anyways, being a parent is tough sometimes. Hard choices. For now I do not think my youngest should be left alone.

In other news- we watched a bunch of cruise ship YouTube videos last night. It was like a rollercoaster of emotions for me. One hand I'm like let's do this and the other I'm like eh... Honestly I'd have fun going anywhere with Robert. It will be so nice to get away. We don't drink and it seemed a lot of the cruise was centered around people who do. Bars all over and lots of talks of drink packages. We have no juicy reason behind why we don't- honestly just never liked the way it tastes. I'm also someone who likes to be in control of my body. Any time in the past when I've had a drink I get that weird out of body sensation and just hate it. I guess most people would say that is exactly why they drink. To feel that way. I just am weird I guess. Plus- I honestly do not like the thought of feeling sick after. Like why? So ya we just don't drink and that seems like it might be a bummer but we'll see.

I woke up last night in a cold sweat. Literally my entire body was wet and I felt so weird. Something for sure was going on. Then to have a headache this morning? I don't know. I really need to take care of my body I know that. Me eating freaking crap and me drinking anything but water.. come on.

Well.. better get back to work. ✌️

#personal #random rant #my rants

[squadrah]

Wait forget the character bingo ask I didn't know you filled it already (😅)

If la Squadra had a complete free for all fight, with adequate amount of times to prepare, who do you think is winning?

There's 2 separate fights. One is just physical strength (to accommodate for sorbet and gelato) and with stands.

Weapons not allowed unless made by stands (to accommodate for sorbet and gelato, they're probably expert at that)

Personally, I think Illuso is loosing the stand battle unless it takes place in a home. Melone would be second last because he can only make 1 junior at a time.

Dear Anon: don't you worry, I originally considered posting it so people could send in characters, and then I thought I should really do a team one so I went ahead and did that, but individual ones are fun, too! Here's the one I did for Prosciutto on my main blog if anyone wants a gander at that!

I love the questions you sent, and I actually do have some ready-made resources for you that I can use to round out my answers with Gelato and Sorbet, ehehe.

PHYSICAL STRENGTH COMPETITION

Originally I got asked a similar question on CuriousCat, so I'm going to grab that answer from my drafts and revise it for this ask.

Risotto definitely feels like number one based on size and bulk alone. He's ripped and over two meters tall (fuck the updated height chart, he's forever 202 cm), and has three years of experience assassinating people as an ordinary person, so even someone as feisty as Ghiaccio and Gelato will struggle.

I would put Ghiaccio next, but oh, my god, Pesci. While Ghiaccio uses White Album to confer extra strength onto him, Pesci has to rely on his own strength for Beach Boy, so the fact that he could support the weight of two people with his Stand means he has incredible core strength. Even his fighting spirit is no problem where the stakes are making Prosciutto his team proud!

Ghiaccio comes third on the list because skating and butterfly stroke require a lot of strength and stamina to pull off, and if anyone has the energy and determination to go all out physically, it is this guy. I see your anger and your thunder thighs, Ghiaccio.

In my original draft, Formaggio came next, but in this new version, he is preceded by Gelato because he is way more hardened and also ridiculously into fighting. Gelato is similar to Ghiaccio in this respect, but while the latter runs on rage, Gelato is in it for the sheer thrill of wrestling for control. He's like the Black Knight from Monty Python, except he's laughing as he tells you it's just a flesh wound.

The next one is a tie; let's see Formaggio first. From his aesthetic and build, he's clearly strong enough to hold his own in a fight, even if he is not as trained as most of those above his rank. Consider him your average fit guy who sometimes lifts when he can be bothered, and cruises by on trick moves to get the upper hand. Meanwhile, Illuso is very tall and probably has great reach with those long limbs, and above all, he might allow defeat to those before him, but he would never want to lose to Formaggio himself. That said, if you hit him right just once, he'll be on defense the rest of the time.

Prosciutto is next and my all-time favorite form is the one on the updated height chart: long legs, stick build, delicate and grim as he should be. That said, based on how he sends Pesci to the floor in canon, Prosciutto knows how to work with angles and timing, so while he can absolutely be overpowered by those larger and stronger than him, you have to beware the kicks and punches.

Sorbet ranks below Prosciutto despite his slightly bigger build because he is actually averse to physical altercation. He loves to snipe, but as soon as someone gets close enough, he's so over it. Almost as elusive as Illuso too, so if he lasts longer than he ought to have, it's because he was picking his hiding places well.

As for Melone… he should not be doing anything physical. His posture is a mess and he's as skinny as Prosciutto but puts himself out on the field even less. Who even let him fight.

STAND BATTLE VS. WEAPONRY

First, I will link a resource: I started publishing a series of headcanon posts about La Squadra's Stands on Ao3, and for Ghiaccio's chapter, I included a very detailed rundown of hypothetical Stand fights to determine if he might be the strongest Stand in Vento Aureo (spoiler alert: he is). Check it out here!

With that out of the way, and just so nobody has to read that to have some fun with this question, here are my general thoughts:

1) For this battle, they would have to lay down some general rules like you did, specifically for handicapping the more lethal Stands. Without that, Prosciutto would automatically win unless Ghiaccio remembered to stock up on frozen air and plug his air hole in the back. With that in mind, the rules are: Prosciutto can only age a minimal amount and cannot use any ice for himself; Ghiaccio can only use his armor and no additional ice; Risotto cannot use Metallica on a person directly; Pesci's hook cannot target vital organs; Formaggio can only shrink himself; Illuso cannot take anyone or their Stand inside the mirror.

2) For weapons, I would love to give Gelato and Sorbet something potent but not lethal. Gelato I think would appreciate one of those rubber truncheons used by the Naples Pigs and Bacon Department, and Sorbet would get something like a paint gun to uh, ink everyone's splat zones, I guess. For him specifically, the rule is that he wins when he gets paint on at least two vital areas, or a clean head shot. (Yes, Mista survived three bullets to the temple at point blank range, but nobody on La Squadra is that favored by Araki God, so.)

3) I see your predictions and they are not wrong, but I wouldn't give Melone a single Junior because they take so much time to make that he would get pummelled before he could pull this off (not to mention no parents around if this is between La Squadra only); instead Baby Face Computer is allowed to use weapons like Sorbet and Gelato, and it is currently wielding a knife. Terrifying.

4) With all these restrictions, I feel like it all boils down to sheer moxie. Formaggio is one of the most formidable of the bunch at this point because his Stand has a built-in blade, he can play with his own size to dodge, AND he has the courage. Illuso has amazing maneuverability with mirror shards, but I feel like he teeters a lot between overconfidence and playing it too safe. Pesci is possibly overpowered because of the damage deflection ability of Beach Boy's line - he would probably need to bide his time until everyone else has fallen to focus on the last person and trap them to win. Prosciutto is still powerful, but he's not nearly as fast as the others; here his edge is more psychological because of the way The Grateful Dead looks and moves. Baby Face Laptop has a similar advantage, but it is much smaller, so there's that. Risotto, bless his heart, can only win by properly cornering someone with makeshift knives, which is no easy task when some move around unpredictably. Ghiaccio has to rely on brute force to win, which is no problem, but those aware of the air hole or targeting his visor would probably get the better of him. (Imagine if Sorbet got paint all over it and it just hard-froze over his head...) As for Sorbet and Gelato, well... Sorbet would be very patient about it, and I bet he manages at least one headshot and a few vitals elsewhere. Gelato, on the other hand, would incur the most damage inflicted because he'd just go about truncheoning every single person he sees until he gets knocked away by their Stand, and then he'd pick himself up and do it all over again to somebody else. He makes it into at least the final three, but who the final ones are, I will leave to the imagination based on the above, haha.

There! Hope you enjoyed these!

#jjba #la squadra #risotto nero #formaggio #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #melone #illuso #sorbet #gelato #squadrah headcanons #squadrah original #again go to Ao3 and read my fics #kudos the fics comment on the fics bookmark the fics

[jingyismom]

Since you are my favourite bottom!lwj writer, can i humbly direct you towards the (bottom lwj) wuji prompt fest over on ao3? https://archiveofourown.org/collections/WuJiPromptFest/profile

(That is unless you already know about it)

Ah, anon! This is fabulous information, but I do know about it! I’ve already posted one prompt fill, and I have two more claims that I’m working on!! This is so sweet of you though, thank you so much. Everyone else head over to WuJi PromptFest and check out the cool prompts and the fills that have already been done!

#helpful anon is helpful #kind people being kind #asked and answered #i might cruise over and see if there's anything that i could fill in like less than 5k #but i'm so bad at restraining myself i probably shouldn't #oh and hey anon #if there's a prompt you specifically want me to look at #feel free to link me to it

[pitaparka]

when he’s sick headcanons

note — can you tell i was in a francisco morales mood when i wrote this? also, i’m incredibly soft. i just wanna hold them :’( also also send me your  own headcanons!! i wanna hear ‘em!! big love <3 - nat

MANDO

- he doesn’t know how he survived all those bouts of sickness alone when you step in to help him for the first time

- his body aches, and not the usual after-bounty-capture either

- his head is foggy, he can feel the sweat in his helmet, and his breathing is hard

- he can’t tell if it’s coming through the modulator, but when you bring soup up to the cockpit for him, he knows you know

- he takes it gratefully, knowing that if there was nobody else here he would have just gone to bed to sleep it off, dinner vetoed for the night

- your cold fingers wrap around the back of his neck, moving his cape as you do so, and he melts into you

- he doesn’t know that he lets out the smallest whimper when you do this, and it makes you want to tear off his helmet, pull him into your arms, and hold him until he’s better

- but you can’t, so you settle for a hand on his neck, and the tilt of a helmet when he drinks the soup in front of you, as requested

- he definitely has a fever, and maker knows what else

- so you tell him to get some rest, that you’d watch the ship and get him if anything went wrong

- you supervise him down the ladder, just in case, which he finds funny and sweet

- you wish you could squish into his bunk with him, but you don’t want to invade on his personal space, especially while he’s hot and sick

- you you settle into the cockpit, the ship on cruise control, and you check on him every once in a while, keeping grogu occupied and quiet while he gets some well deserved rest

EZRA

- you knew he would get it

- right after you recovered from your illness, he started displaying symptoms of the same one you had just gotten over

- shortness of breath, fever, aches, lethargy

- he had taken such good care of you, so it was only fair that you’d do the same in return

- resources were sparse and quarters were cramped on the green, but you did what you could to make him as comfortable as possible

- his feverish back was pressed up against your chest in a cot designed for one after he’d stripped down to his underwear to avoid overheating

- he really enjoyed you being the big spoon sometimes, and now was one of those times

- when he got too hot from your shared body heat though, you would sit on the floor next to the cot and stroke right behind his ear to get him to fall asleep

- you made sure he ate as much as he could keep down, and you gave him all the fluids you could spare for his speedy recovery

- it broke your heart to see your usually verbose boy so quiet and in pain

- he muttered fever nonsense to no one and whimpered in his sleep

- you moved your cot directly next to his in order to keep a close eye on him

- but you knew that with time he would heal, and that as soon as he started talking to you again he was getting better

FRANKIE

- he sweats through the sheets next to you in the early hours of the night

- you’re the one who wakes up first, and you honestly thought one of you had wet the bed because of how much liquid there was

- but you realize that it’s frankie, back drenched and sweating out whatever flu he had acquired from whoever he had gotten it from

- you wake him from what seemed to be a not great dream anyway, and when he realizes what happened, he apologizes, groggy from sleep and illness

- “no, no! i’m not mad, frankie, you just can’t sleep in this sweetheart. you’ll get more sick. how are you feeling?”

- he curls up deeper under the covers and you get out of bed to kneel next to him

- your hands card through his matted, sweat soaked hair, and you wipe the drops from his jaw

- “do you want a cool shower, baby? you’re soaked.” you suggest, but frankie is so out of it

- he was fine last night, you remember

- sure he didn’t eat dinner, and went to bed early, but you thought maybe he had a late lunch and a long day

- now, helping him out of bed to the shower, you understand that it was early onset symptoms of whatever he was battling

- he pressed heavily to your side and you’re nervous as you strip him down and get him into the tub

- he sways, and you’re not sure what you’ll do if he passes out, or hits his head, so you sit him down, take off the shower head, make sure the water coming out is room temperature, and you run she showerhead over his overheating body

- you’re careful not to get any water in his face and ears, and you don’t wash his hair, just his body with a gentle soap

- you figure this is one of the only times frankie will let you take care of him like this, so you milk it for all it’s worth

- you blow dry his hair on a low setting, just in case he has a headache, you change the sheets of your bed, you lay him down on his side and you bring him close to your chest

- which is how he falls asleep for the next few nights until his illness eventually subsides

WHISKEY

- he curls up in your lap on the couch as soon as he gets home from work, which is how you know something’s wrong

- but you ask him anyway

- “i don’t feel so great, sugar,”

- which scares you, because did he get drugged? is this just a regular illness? is this like a biowarfare mission gone wrong?

- you leave him to get the thermometer, and when you come back, he’s got sad eyes looking up at you that just break your heart

- turns out, it’s not biowarfare. just a fever of 100.4

- you slip your hands up the back of his shirt and it’s so warm, along with his forehead

- he moans weakly at your touch, worn and tired from his extensive mission that day

- he’s definitely been overexerting himself

- as you settle back onto the couch, he settles into your lap again

- you let him rest for a while, but not after long, you realize he’s fallen asleep, and you’re stuck there for god knows how long

- you turn the volume down on the tv just in case, and you stroke behind his ears and you play with his fingers

- it’s best to just let him sleep it off, and you're not opposed to letting him do it on your lap

- you imagine there are statesman resources you can use to help him, but if he’s feeling better after he’s slept it off, then maybe you won’t need to misuse them

JAVIER PEÑA

- you scared the shit out of him, knocking on his door like that

- in your blinding rage, filled with thoughts like “how dare he take the day off to bang hookers, to recover from his hangover, to generally be a hindrance to the fucking DEA,” you had not pondered the possibility that THE javier peña, was sick

- he’s pulling on a t-shirt just as he opens the door, wearing pajama pants, and it startles you to see him so disarmed and casual

- his eyes and nose are red, his hair is disheveled, and he looks... exhausted

- “wow, you look like shit."

- “i feel like shit,” he says, walking away from the door, sniffling

- you take this as an invitation in, and close the door behind you

- he collapses back onto his couch, where you assume he’s been all day, and wraps himself up in a thick afghan blanket

- his hands shake the slightest bit as he opens his lighter to ignite his cigarette

- you take a seat next to him and help him with his lighter, and he nods his thanks to you

- “you’re gonna be late,” he mutters, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out smoke into his apartment, coughing it out halfway

- “i’ll call out,” you offer, eyes wandering up his blanket clad body

- he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on the back of the couch

- “go in. i’m just gonna sleep it off anyway,”

- you lean in close to him and press your hand against his forehead and he freezes, staring at you

- you run your hand down his neck and feel his warmth, and he melts into your touch just a little bit

- you offer to only call out for a few hours to get him settled and make sure he doesn’t die or something, and he lets you, simply because he knows his illness will only get worse

- when your time is up and you have to go back to work, javi’s eaten, gotten some fluids in him, and taken some pain meds

- you let him know that he can call you if he needs anything, and before you even walk out the door is sleeping contently on the couch

MARCUS MORENO

- you find out he’s sick when he calls you, and asks for a favor

- “hey, can you do me the biggest favor ever?”

- he’s super congested. at first you think it might not be him because of how grainy his voice is

- “i hate to do this to you on such short notice, but would you be able to pick up missy? i’m not feeling too hot right now.”

- when you make it back to their home, it's very clear why he thought he wouldn't be able to make it

- he's curled up in bed, tissues piled on his nightstand, trying to get some sleep, but clearly failing

- he notices the two of you come in, and you quietly usher missy away to her own room to entertain herself while her dad tries to get some rest

- he thanks you for picking up missy, and you tell him you'd be there for him whenever he needed you to be

- you make a special phone call as you care for marcus, keeping his curtains closed and running your cool hands up and down his back and shoulders until he felt like he could fall asleep

- you let him know that you'll be right back, that you were going to pick up a few things for him and that if he needed anything at all, just call

- knowing your chicken noodle soup skills were rusty, your special phone call had been to marcus' mother's house, where she had tupperware containers full of soup waiting for you to pick up for him

- when you get back to his house with pain meds, gatorade, and the soup, marcus is passed out in bed

- you don't want to wake him up, but you have a hunch that he hasn't eaten all day, so you whisper his name softly and lightly shake him awake

- he's so grateful and only eats a portion of what he normally does, but anything is better than nothing

- and you don't want him feeling even more sick as a result

- you end up eating the incredibly nostalgic and rich soup with missy at the table and talk to her about your day while marcus gets some sleep

MARCUS PIKE

- it's only when you get home from work that you realize something's wrong with marcus

- he's asleep on the couch

- which would have been fine, if you had worked overtime, or had gotten out late, but it was only four thirty

- plus, you two had planned on going to see a movie you he was excited about tonight in theatres and maybe grab dinner after

- the tv plays lowly in the background, and he hasn’t changed out of his work clothes yet

- he startles when you close and lock the door, and rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in pain

- "marcus, are you okay?"

- "yeah, i'm fine." he tells you, and when you mention the date, he looks shocked that he forgot about it

- "oh my god, you're right. i can’t believe i forgot, i’m so sorry babe, i'll get ready right now."

- you tell him it's no biggie, but he insists

- after you've taken off your work clothes and showered quickly for your date, you realize the two of you are most definitely staying in

- he's promptly fallen back asleep on the couch, and he looks adorable

- you put on your pajamas and he does too, and you settle into the couch behind marcus, flipping through channels with him

- he says he doesn't care what you watch, as long as it's not too bright or loud

- so you choose some old black and white movie with the subtitles on

- normally you're the one between his legs, as he rubs your shoulders and plays with your hair

- but this time, he's curled up into you, his back pressed up against your chest, his head tucked into your shoulder using it as a pillow

- you figure you didn't really want to see the new movie anyway, and decide takeout and casablanca was a better way to spend your time with your sick boyfriend

MAX PHILLIPS

- a big baby

- but he IS a vampire and DOES NOT get sick, which slips your mind completely when you come home after some overtime and find him paler than usual on the couch, his head in his hands

- you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, and he refuses, but he caves when you sit down next to him and start stroking his head, and playing with the hair at the base of his neck

- he tells you that after the whole vampire fiasco with the company, he was set for a while, and has been feeling great, but he hasn’t had human blood in so long that it’s made him weak

- he gives you a sad puppy dog look, and you know he’s being an asshole about it, but you hate to see the dark circles under his eyes or the color his skin turns when he’s like this

- so you oblige, but you give him STRICT instructions to follow, otherwise you won’t do it again

- don’t take more than a pint, don’t leave unnecessary bruises, if you use your safe word he has to stop immediately, and he has to make it as quick and painless as he possibly can

- he nods enthusiastically, and pulls you into his lap

- he nuzzles into your neck, and grabs your chin, anchoring himself to you

- he blows softly on your skin, and presses hard kisses to the area to get your blood flowing and disarm you

- which isn’t fair because he knows your neck is so sensitive

- it’s a sharp prick when he ejects his fangs into your body and you stop moving completely, your hand fisting at his shirt, just listening to your breathing and his soft moans echoed against your skin

- out of habit your rub soothing circles into his back, more to sooth yourself then anything

- minutes pass, and you start to feel light headed and are about to tell him to stop when he pulls away, grinning ear to ear at you

- he’s back on your neck in seconds though, licking and sucking the leaking blood from the small holes he’s left in your skin

- now that, that feels much better than the bloodsucking that was going on originally

- you jump when he presses soft kisses to the sensitive area along your throat and dives a hand between your legs

- looks like someone’s feeling better already

MAX LORD

- tries to power through it as much as he can with pain killers and cough syrups, but after he almost passes out at dinner after a week of symptoms, you beg him to take at least a day off to recover

- that morning, his hair is a mess, he missed a button on his shirt, and his tie was uneven

- he was about to put on two different colored socks when he begrudgingly obliges

- you unbutton his shirt and help him take off his tie

- it’s easy to bring him back to bed after that, and you let him hold you from behind like a teddy bear, no matter how uncomfortable his arm is shoved under your neck

- usually he likes to be held, but he can feel his own back burning up, so he decides to hold you instead

- he whimpers in his sleep, plagued by fever dreams and his traumatic past

- so when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, something he so very rarely does, you’re concerned

- “i’m sorry, for waking you, i just... i just need... you... i want—“

- it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he needs a hug

- you hold him and rub his back until he falls back asleep again, in your arms

- when he wakes up with a killer headache, you fight to keep him in bed again, rubbing his temples and pressing kisses to his forehead

- he falls back asleep in less than five minutes

- needless to say, one more day off couldn’t hurt

OBERYN MARTELL

- it’s not often than he gets sick, surprisingly, considering how close he gets to so many different people

- when you arrive at his chambers that morning, the guards seem keen on not letting you in

- you argue with them, but they insist oberyn didn’t want anyone in there

- you call them out, obviously upset and visibly frustrated when his doors creak open and you see him, in a robe, hair messy and pressed down to his forehead

- he quietly tells the guard to let you in, and you’re a little confused

- he sits down on his bed and looks up at you with guilty eyes

- “apologies, my love, but I don't want you to see me like this”

- you scoff and roll your eyes at him, moving in front of him

- you take his head in your hands, and he stares up at you

- “apology accepted, but i’m offended, my prince.”

- he scrunches his eyebrows and presses his chin to your stomach

- you run your hands through his hair and he brings his hands to your waist

- “you think mere illness could keep me away? keep me away from you?”

- his confusion melts into a small smile, and he lets his head rest against your belly as you pull him into you

- “can i get you anything, oberyn? wine, medicine?”

- “no, my love. just you is enough for me.”

PERO TOVAR

- wants to be left alone for the most part

- grumpy in general, and it doesn't get better when he's sick

- he'll let you wipe a cool cloth over his forehead and neck, and doesn't complain

- he says he doesn’t want you there because he doesn’t want you to catch what he has

- you know, survival rates are low for things like this at this point in history

- but really, like oberyn, he doesn’t want you to see him weak

- he’s afraid it’ll ruin your image of him in your mind

- william asks you to get some rest, as they can’t afford to risk more days at the campsite with sick travelers

- so you oblige, keeping your distance from pero, but you stay vigilant

- you stand guard for him for most of the night, listening to him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, until you eventually fall asleep too

- but you’re up early, with the rest of the men, except pero, who sleeps well into daylight

- the rest of them take off, desperate to find something for dinner, but you stay back with him, stroking his forehead, a gentleness that’s rarely ever been afforded to him, listening to him ramble half in english, half in spanish, but he has your full attention

- it would be a rough few days until he recovered, but his muttered thanks and appreciation for you was more than enough for you to do it all over again if he ever needed you to

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #whiskey x reader #the kingsman #jack daniels x reader #ezra prospect x reader #prospect #headcanons #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character headcanons #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos #marcus moreno x reader #marcus pike x reader #maxwell lord x reader #max phillips x reader #oberyn martell x reader #pero tovar x reader #game of thrones #ww84 #we could be heroes #the mentalist #the great wall #bloodsucking bastards #whump #hurt/comfort

[let-them-read-fics]

Worth It

Requested By: You guys!

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,543

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Suggestive Themes

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! A bunch of you guys have been requesting a continuation to the previous Lisa fic I did, so I thought I'd provide for you 😌 I really hope you all enjoy this little addition ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Previous: Dancing In The Dark

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You should've known. It was all too good to be true -- too close to being a fairytale as it teetered on the edge of perfection, just waiting to fall off that mythic pedestal. 

Lisa's eyes meet yours the moment you walk through the front door, opening widely as she scrambles to collect herself -- she clearly hadn't expected to be caught. 

"Seriously, Lisa? Wow." Part of you is shocked, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see this coming. The bags in your hands hang heavily, weighed down by everything YG sent home with you for review, and their plastic straps uncomfortably dig into your palms now. You don't put them down, though; they serve as a good distraction for what you're witnessing. 

"Y/N-- I can explain, I promise!" Lisa walks around the counter and tries to reach for you, but you're quick to step away before she can. 

"Don't," you say, glancing down at her outstretched hand. She gets the memo, giving a subtle nod as she obediently puts it back at her side to appease you. 

"I can't believe you."

"Baby I'll go pick up some more, any kind you want!" Her eyes are pleading now, scanning between yours with purpose as her brows furrow more and more. She's desperate to make it up to you. 

Her bargaining piques your interest, but you don't show it. She's not getting off the hook that easily. "How could you eat the last one?" Disappointed, you give her a hurt look. "You know I've been craving them and you still ate it! I didn't even get one!" 

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize that this was the only box of them we had." 

Your favorite donuts, all gone. And when you're on your period, no less. The audacity that your girlfriend possesses really blows you away sometimes. 

The pout on your face eventually fades a bit as you see the sincerity in her eyes, and with a small huff, you crack a smile. After stepping around her to place your bags on the counter, you turn around and wiggle a finger at her. "We're getting 2 boxes, and you're paying." 

"Of course, babe. You can get as many toppings as you want, too." She adds, her smile widening obnoxiously as she wraps her arms around you. 

"You're lucky you're cute, jerk." Your arms loop around her neck as she pulls you in, rubbing your back to soothe you. Despite joking around, she really does feel guilty -- she knows how bad your periods can get, and those sweet treats always seem to make things at least a little better. 

"Come on, let's go get them." She whispers against your temple.

You raise your head to look at her, eyes wide in shock. "Right now? I thought you meant we'd go tomorrow… it's getting late, Lis."

"Why would I miss out on an opportunity for a late night drive with my girl? Besides, it's still open for…" she glances at her watch before looking back into your eyes, "...2 more hours. I think that should be enough time for you to choose." She teases, narrowing her eyes at you playfully. You can be pretty indecisive at times, but a lot of that uncertainty seems to fade for you when you're hungry enough. 

"They have so many good options, though. You might have to help me pick." 

"Okay, but do me a favor? Remember this moment when you want to yell at me again for not getting enough of your favorite kind." She cracks up when she sees you hide your face behind your hands, laughing at yourself. 

"I do get pretty cranky sometimes, don't I?" You tilt your head to the side, looking at her with a soft smile.

"That's an understatement, but I'll let it slide. You're adorable." 

She plants a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car. 

---

Where you go I follow

No matter how far

If life is a movie

Oh you're the best part, oh oh oh

You're the best part, oh oh oh

Best part

The windows of Lisa's car are rolled down, allowing the warm evening air of Seoul to flow in and gently ghost over your skin. Vibrant city lights pass by leisurely, blending together in the distance to create a breathtaking skyline, and Lisa has no desire to rush anything. She keeps the car at a cruising speed, enabling you to relax and enjoy the smooth ride. Her thumb strokes over your knuckles as she sings along with the song, both of you knowing who she's aiming the words at. Occasionally she brings your hand to her lips, laying soft kisses to your skin. 

The heat radiating from your seat warmer fends off any possibility of a cramp, further putting you at ease. Today was a long day of rehearsal and interviews, only broken up by meetings that you didn't particularly enjoy sitting through. It drug on mercilessly, paying no mind to how exhausted you were or how eager you were to be home. Every time you'd sneak a glance at the clock, nodding along to whatever your manager was saying without actually listening, you'd find the time creeping by, the minute hand barely further than what it had been during your last check. It was boring and monotonous, but now you're here with Lisa and you couldn't be happier. 

The open sunroof allows for you to peek up at the stars, seeing them twinkle brightly for you, as if to say hello again. The sky surrounding them is rich; its velvety darkness serves as the perfect backdrop for them, making their colors pop in all the right ways. It's a gorgeous sight, and although you hate to admit it, maybe you're not too incredibly angry at Lisa for eating your donuts after all. 

"We missed you back at the dorm today," she says with a soft smile, her eyes still trained on the road as she lazily rubs her cheek against your intertwined hands. 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning your attention to her. "I missed you guys, too. I couldn't wait to get out of there; Jiyoung barely gave us a break, and we were practically buried in all the paperwork we had to go through. I've never signed so many things in my life." A grimace tugs at your features at the lame memory, and Lisa sports a very similar expression. 

"I'm so glad I'm not you," she says with an amused smile now, chuckling when you flick her. "We're so proud of you though, baby, and all of this work will be worth it. Your solo is gonna blow everyone away." The fleeting look she throws over her shoulder to you makes your heart swell with pride, and you're reminded of how far the two of you have come. 

Through trials and tribulations, hidden feelings and repressed desires, the two of you eventually found your way to each other in the end. You'll never forget the day that she asked you to be hers:

"Lisa, we can't get another cat right now! You know I love them just as much as you, but we don't have room." You try to reason, running a brush through your hair as you continue getting ready. 

"You're no fun," she groans, throwing herself back onto the bed like a frustrated toddler. In a perfect world, she'd have a house filled to the brim with little kitties scurrying around, rolling and playing with each other -- she doesn't understand why some people try to put a limit on how many she can have.

"Stop complaining or we'll be late," you warn, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror before walking over to the bed. You stand between her parted legs, gazing down at her until she realizes you're there and opens her eyes to look at you.

For a moment, she doesn't say anything; she just takes in the sight of you before shaking her head. She's smiling like a giddy teenager, and you can't help but question her with a breathy laugh. 

"I'm so in love with you." 

She's implied that before -- her words usually accompanied by nervous fidgeting and an avoidance of eye contact -- but something about this time is different. Her gaze holds a softness that you've never quite seen from her, an added layer of tenderness and care behind her words. 

She's not afraid anymore, and, truthfully, neither are you. 

You've turned her into a more gentle person - one that thinks before she speaks and doesn't act so impulsively anymore - and a sense of accomplishment settles within your heart. It's not that you wanted to change her -- she just naturally adopted some of your mannerisms, shifting into a better version of herself. 

"I've never loved anybody like I love you, Lisa." You confess, a look of pure adoration on your face as you realize how true your own words are. She's evolved into a better person to be with you, knowing that she couldn't function as her old self any longer, and that alone makes her different from all the rest. 

You see her release a little nervous breath as she moves to sit further back on the bed, coaxing you into her lap. You have a sneaking suspicion of what's coming, but you bite back the smile that threatens to break out on your face and allow her to speak next.

"Well, then, I think it's only natural that I ask that question." She starts, referencing back to the night that you all made up. You're glad you didn't jump into anything then, when you were high on your emotions -- both of you needed time to grow individually first, but now the stars are finally aligned. You know the time is right now, and you're ready to be together.

"Go ahead," you nod with a smile, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck as your arms rest against her shoulders. 

Part of you wants to mess with her and say no, but all of that goes out the window once she asks the words she's been dying to. 

"Jagi, will you be my girlfriend?" 

"I'd love to, Lili." 

Smiling like an idiot, she wraps her arms around you and lays back, falling onto the cushions with a soft bounce as she pulls you in for a kiss. She peppers your face with hundreds of tiny pecks, giggling when you squirm and squeal at her ministrations. 

You pull away slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and you grin. "Should we just cancel the reservation? I don't think we'll make it on time and I'm too happy right now to even leave." 

She agrees, deciding that eating takeout on the couch while Netflix plays in the background is a much more tempting offer, and reaches for the phone in your back pocket. 

She lets her hands wander, knowing exactly what she's doing to you, but you allow her to have her fun -- a fitting revenge plan is already being formulated in your mind anyway. 

The fingers of her unoccupied hand flirt with the hem of your shirt, sneaking up under the material to caress your side as she waits for her call to be answered. You brush the back of your hand over her cheek lovingly, reveling at how smooth her skin is. 

"Gorgeous," you whisper, tilting your head down to kiss along her jawline. She sighs as you continue, lulling back into that blissful state of happiness she enters anytime your lips are on her. 

Suddenly, the line picks up and a familiar greeting can be heard. "Hello, how may I help you?" A surprisingly pleasant voice asks, the smile evident in how her words come out. 

"Hi, I'm calling to cancel a reserva-- oh," Lisa starts off strong, only to get blindsided halfway through when she feels your lips against her neck. They tease the tender skin just the way she likes, strategically parted by your tongue every now and then to lick a heated path to your next target area. 

She has to pull the phone away from her mouth when you snake a hand down her body, allowing it to travel to all the places she wants you most. 

"Ma'am?" The hostess asks when the line remains silent, Lisa too busy moving her head to the side to give you more access to respond to her. 

"S-sorry about that," she lightly smacks the back of your head as punishment, but soon groans again when you nip at her pulse point. "Manoban. I need to cancel my reservation." 

The woman begins typing away at her keyboard, searching the list for Lisa's name. Your girlfriend's legs wrap around your waist, and she grinds her hips against you with a smirk on her lips. The little tease is loving this. 

You move away from her neck now, satisfied with the marks you left behind as you follow the path that your hand previously made. You leave no area unattended as you methodically work your way down, making it a point to give attention to all of her most sensitive spots in order to get a rise out of her.

You do, of course, in the form of quiet expletives and breathy mewls of your name in between the small talk she's having with the hostess. 

When you sit back on your knees, momentarily stilling your movements, Lisa's eyes flutter down to where your hands rest: right at the front of her jeans. She gulps at the mischievous look in your eye, but bites her lip nonetheless. 

"--Yes, okay Ms. Manoban, I see your reservation for 9PM? Is that correct?" 

You undo the first button.

"Yes, that's correct." 

You tease her, running your fingers along the material before popping the next one open. Her hips involuntarily buck up towards your hand when you brush it against her center, bringing a shade of blush to her cheeks. 

"And to ensure that we're meeting the needs of all of our customers, may I ask your reason for canceling?" 

You flick the last one open, glad that she's only wearing a semi-high waisted pair of pants -- that little game was fun, but her hushed moans have gotten you riled up. She covers her mouth, sinking her teeth into her palm to silence herself when you pull her pants past her hips and lay needy kisses to her upper thighs.

"Something just… came up. No fault on your part," she rushes out, wishing she could just hang up now and not care enough to be polite. 

Her eyes lock with yours when you push her shirt farther up, kissing across her toned stomach as you tug on the waistband of her lingerie. Its maroon lace is paired with accents of deep purple, contrasting with her skin gorgeously as jagged breaths ripple through her. You admire the bruising patches your lips have left behind that paint her stomach, splashes of darkness to accompany the material that leaves little to the imagination. 

"Ah, I see. Well we hope you'll come back and see us." 

Just as Lisa is about to say a hurried goodbye and hang up, the hostess asks, "Speaking of, would you like to book another now?" 

Lisa's head digs into the comforter, her eyes tightly closed in frustration… for multiple reasons. She tangles her fingers in your hair, her silent way of pleading for you to continue, and she does her best to sound stable as she responds.

"No, no. Thank you, though. Goodbye." The very second that she registers a parting word from the other end, she quickly hangs up and tosses the phone to another part of the bed. 

"That was cruel," she breathes out, though both of you know she isn't upset in the slightest. 

"You loved it," you say, self-assured as you smile against her hip bone. A slight tremble runs through her body, and it works to boost your confidence tenfold. 

"You drive me crazy, Y/N."

You're pulled from your pleasant reverie by the feeling of Lisa nudging your thigh with her hand. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes. 

"We're here, my love." She says, unbuckling herself. You let out a tired yawn before doing the same, and you thank her when she comes around to open your door for you. You settle against her side, and soon enough the two of you are filtering into the cozy little shop.

Rows of treats greet you, all tucked behind crystal clear walls of glass for protection from any stray kids that may try to snatch one of them when no one's looking. A shorter container sits beside the standing racks, stretching out to reveal an impressive array of ice cream and sorbet flavors. You wander around, studying the different options as if you don't already know them all by heart after being such a frequent customer for so long. 

"I'm debating on getting some ice cream, too. What do you think?" You ask Lisa, only to hear her let out an earth-shattering squeal in response. 

She clears her throat, amusingly composing herself, and acts like the inner 5 year old in her didn't just pop out. "We can get the Super-Ultra-Mega-Shareable Waffle Cone, if you want." 

"Sounds like a plan, babe." You laugh, seeing how ready she is to absolutely demolish some ice cream. You'll be lucky to even get a few bites in, you realize, though seeing her this happy is far more important. 

You spend the next few minutes deliberating with her like you're judges on some Food Network show, deciding on the perfect order as you rack the price up with every gourmet topping you add. Eventually satisfied with your choices, Lisa kisses your cheek and sends you off to find a seat while she pays. Upon scanning the entirety of the dining area, you spot a corner booth that's tucked away from the busy center of the store, and you smile at how intimate it is. It's perfect, and you begin making your way over to it. 

She follows behind you shortly after, shoving the change she just received down into her pocket. The large cone rests in her other hand, and she swipes her tongue along the top of it, gathering up a generous amount of whipped cream as she slides into the seat across from you.

You swear you can hear angels singing as you open one of the boxes, seeing the beautiful spread of yummy treats lined up together in neat little rows. Their delicious aromas waft up, making your mouth water in anticipation. So, deciding not to waste anymore time, you reach for the one that you've been dying to sink your teeth into all day and take your first, glorious bite.

It's made just the way you like it, with the perfect dough-to-glaze-to-topping ratio imaginable. The memory of Lisa specially requesting them to be made fresh warms your heart, and you open your eyes to look at her. 

"Oh mah gahd--" you say around your mouthful of food, attempting to not choke and die when you see how crazy she looks. Ice cream is already messily smeared across her face, reaching just about everywhere -- her cheeks, nose, mouth -- you name it; and her hair is haphazardly pulled back in a messy bun. 

Halfway through crunching on the tasty cone again, she looks up at you. "What?" She asks, sounding as if she genuinely has no clue as to the state she's in. You motion to her face, prompting her to grab her phone and look at her own reflection. Rather than getting embarrassed, she lets out a loud cackle, successfully throwing the two of you into a laughing fit. 

It's the good kind -- slapping the table, making no noise as you egg each other on, filling the shop with those joyous sounds -- kind of thing; and seeing her so carefree is priceless. Any trace of stress that stuck around from the long day you had quickly disappears completely, no longer deserving of the room it was taking up in your brain. This moment with her is perfect, and you're so glad to be sharing it. 

After things die down a bit, the two of you lean back in your chairs, tightly clutching your aching stomachs. Your cheeks hurt, too, but it's the kind of pain you're more than happy to welcome with open arms. 

Lisa reaches for your hand across the table as she looks at you with that special twinkle in her eye, her smile looking particularly swoon worthy. "I'm really happy I ate those donuts earlier." She's teasing, but it's the truth -- this night is a memory she'll keep forever, added to the list of things she never wants to forget. 

"Me too." You squeeze her hand and pull her in, grinning at the taste of ice cream on her lips. The next part (which you knew was coming) still makes you squeal: she nuzzles her face against yours, spreading the sticky sweetness all over you as well. 

"There. Now we're matching." She kisses you again, leaving you to attempt to hide the unwanted smile that parts your lips. 

#lisa manoban #lalisa manoban #lisa x reader #lisa x fem reader #lisa manoban x reader #blackpink #kpop #blackpink fluff #blackpink smut #blackpink oneshots #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #lisa imagine #let-them-read-fics #kpop scenarios #fluff #fanfic #blackpink fanfic #kpop girl group #blackpink x reader #blackpink x fem reader

[kanerallels]

Homeward Bound

(for Kanera Week, based on the prompt "reunion/making up for lost time")

Read on AO3 here!

@kaneraweek

Word Count: 1,828

Tags/Warning: rated G

Summary: Five years after the battle of Yavin, the Empire is defeated above Jakku. It's an important day for all of the galaxy-- but for Kanan Jarrus and Jacen Syndulla, it's especially meaningful.

Kanan was busy making dinner when the call came. He heard the beep of the holocom going off, and didn’t turn from slicing the kajaka roots in front of him. “Kasmir, can you get that?” he called.

The Kalleran, who’d moved to Ryloth with him to take care of Jacen, headed across the room. “Don’t let the steaks burn while I’m gone, or Cham will never let it go,” he warned Kanan. “Your father-in-law is notoriously picky about how well done his steaks are.”

Letting out a snort, Kanan said, “And yet you consist in making them well done. I wonder why that is?”

Kasmir ignored him, which was unsurprising. Kanan was definitely grateful for Kasmir hanging around. However, he had a habit of clashing with Hera’s father. The only thing the two of them could agree on was Jacen, and the fact the kid deserves the best.

As he continued chopping up the kajaka roots, he heard Kasmir whistling as he checked the com. Then he stopped abruptly, and Kanan felt his heart skip a beat.

The only people who called them on that holocom, other than Sabine from time to time, was the New Republic. Which meant there was some kind of news from Hera.

Setting down the knife, he moved towards the door. “Kasmir. What is it?”

“It’s… good news,” Kasmir said, his voice stunned. “Jakku’s been taken. The Imperial fleet has surrendered.”

Feeling shock cut through him, Kanan took a deep breath. “Does that-- you’re saying--”

“She’s coming home,” Kasmir said, the grin in his voice obvious. “The captain’s coming home.”

Kanan could feel a smile spreading across his face. Force. She’s coming back. Finally, she’s coming home. Turning, he managed to keep his voice steady as he called, “Jacen! Come here for a minute!”

The sound of thumping feet caught his ear, and Jacen raced into the room. “Yeah, Dad? What’s up?”

Cham was a few steps behind his grandson, and Kanan felt his curious gaze resting on him. “Is there something wrong?” he asked, his voice wary-- clearly he’d heard the holocom go off as well, and connected the dots.

“No,” Kanan said. “The Empire surrendered.” He could sense the shock radiating from Cham as he turned to Jacen. “Jacen, your mom’s coming home.”

Jacen let out a whoop and launched himself at Kanan. “REALLY?? Really really? Mom’s coming home? For how long?”

“For good, kiddo,” Kanan said, hugging his son tightly. “The fight’s over. She’s not going anywhere once she gets home.”

“YES!!!” Jacen said, wriggling free from Kanan’s grasp to start jumping around the kitchen. “When? When are we going to see her?”

“ETA, three days,” Kasmir said, and Jacen let out another shout of delight.

“Time to start planning the welcome home dinner,” Cham said, his voice satisfied. “Only the best to welcome home our Hera.”

Chuckling, Kanan said, “I guess we’d better start making some calls. The others are going to want to be here for this.”

As Jacen jumped around the kitchen and Cham started planning the dinner out loud and Kasmir made fun of him, Kanan could smell the steaks burning in the other room. But he didn’t care. Hera was coming home.

The next few days slipped by with surprising speed as the four of them made calls and prepared for the welcome home dinner. A message from Hera confirmed her arrival time, which only heightened the excitement.

The guests started arriving the day of-- Kallus and Zeb, of course. Sabine, along with Rex and Ahsoka, bringing stories from the Outer Rim, and even Numa and Gobi, Cham’s seconds in command. The house was filled with people, talking and laughing and helping with dinner. Zeb, Ahsoka, Kasmir and Rex had commandeered the kitchen, with Cham supervising, Numa and Gobi were entertaining Jacen by telling him stories, and Sabine and Kallus were discussing tactics. Everyone was there-- except Kanan and Jacen.

Leaning back on the heels of his hands, Kanan tilted his head up to the sky, enjoying the cool night air as he asked, “Do you see anything yet?”

“Nope,” Jacen reported. He’d managed to convince Kanan that they could wait for Hera up on the roof-- which, admittedly, hadn’t taken much. The only person more excited than Jacen was Kanan, although he didn’t show it as much as his son did.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, savoring the thought of Hera, finally home to stay. It had been a long two years, with visits every now and then, but mostly so much time apart. Kanan missed her, aching to hold her in his arms again. Force, it would be so good to have her back.

Next to him, Jacen let out an impatient sigh. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Hang in there, kid,” Kanan said with a grin. “She’ll be here soon. Your mom isn’t late often.”

“How are you so patient?” Jacen grumbled.

Feeling a soft smile crossing his face, Kanan replied, “I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for your mom. I can wait a little longer.”

“Well, I haven’t spent that long, and I don’t want to.”

“Someday, you’ll find someone you’d wait that long for,” Kanan replied absently, running his fingers through his beard. “And you may find you don’t mind as much.”

“Ew,” Jacen muttered, and Kanan laughed.

“You might not want to hear it, but you’ll understand when you get older.”

“I don’t think I want to understand-- THERE!” Jacen jumped to his feet, and Kanan lunged forward, grabbing him by the back of the shirt to prevent him from plummeting off the edge. Disregarding his near-death experience, Jacen said, “It’s Mom! It’s the Ghost!”

Even as he said the words, Kanan could hear the familiar rumble of the Ghost’s engines as it cruised overhead, setting down a little ways away.

“Take it easy, we don’t want you to fall off the roof before you see your mom again,” Kanan said, feeling a similar buzz of excitement going through him even as he spoke. Hera was right there. She was right there, and she was finally home. “Come on-- do you want to take the direct way down?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, hang on.” Grabbing Jacen, he swung the boy up and over one of his shoulders. Jacen let out a shrieking laugh as Kanan called on the Force and jumped from the rooftop, landing lightly next to the door just as Kasmir stepped out. He gave a strangled yelp, clutching his chest.

“Holy-- don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry,” Kanan said with a grin, depositing Jacen on the ground. His son immediately took off towards where the Ghost was-- Kanan could hear the ramp lowering even from where he stood. The next thing he heard was Jacen shouting for his mom, his voice filled with pure joy. And then he heard her. Hera’s voice. No matter how long he lived, Kanan knew that hearing her voice would always be one of the greatest experiences of his life.

As he started towards them, he heard Hera hugging and kissing Jacen. “Oh, look at you, you’ve gotten so big--”

“Mom, guess what? Sabine says there are planets on the Outer Rim that have swoop bike races, and the bikes have these crazy engines on them,” Jacen said, all but bouncing in place. “And she said they take entrances as young as fifteen, so when I get that old, I wanna go there and beat the record--”

“We’ll talk when you’re older, dear,” Hera said, humor in her voice.

“--and guess what, Uncle Zeb and Uncle Kal are here, and Rex is making dinner, and he said he’d teach me how to use his blasters, and Dad said that Rex is one of the only people he’d want to teach me that, but I have to wait until I’m older but can we please do it now--”

“Hey, what have I told you about that divide and conquer stuff?” Kanan called as he came up to them. “I already gave my answer to that one.”

Jacen let out a disappointed groan, but Kanan felt Hera’s gaze on him and he had only one thing on his mind right now. Closing the distance between them, he pulled Hera into a warm hug. “Welcome home, General Hera,” he whispered.

He felt her let out a soft chuckle. “No general now. I resigned my commission. I’m officially a civilian like everyone else, and very happy about it.”

“Maybe. But you’ll always be my captain,” Kanan said. Leaning back, he let his hands slide down to rest on her hips. “So, what are your plans now that you’re home?”

Placing the palms of her hands against his chest, Hera murmured, “I’ve got a few ideas.” The mischief in her voice brought a grin to Kanan’s face, and he leaned down, catching her lips against his in a kiss. Her hands slipped up and twined around his neck, and Hera pulled herself closer to him, kissing him back with such intensity Kanan almost lost his balance.

The next sound he properly heard was the disapproving beeps of an astromech droid. Hera laughed against his lips, and Kanan shook his head. “I’m still somehow glad you survived, Chop,” he told the droid. “Thanks for taking care of her for me.”

Chopper grumbled something, and Hera smacked him in the arm as she stepped back. “I took care of myself, thanks for noticing, love.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Kanan said, tugging her forward into his arms again. “But you know those flyboys in the New Republic. One of them might have tried to steal your heart, and then where would we be?”

Hera came willingly into his embrace as she replied, “How can they steal it when you’re taking such good care of it?”

Kanan grinned at that. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to remember that.” He was about to kiss her again when a shout came from the house.

“Hey, lovebirds! If you’d like to take a minute for the rest of us, dinner’s about ready,” Kasmir yelled. “And the others would like to see Captain H as well.”

Kanan released a long sigh, and Hera chuckled softly. “Later, dear,” she said.

“Later,” Kanan agreed. Unable to resist, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against the side of her jaw, and murmured, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me, too,” she said, her voice a tad breathless, and Kanan grinned.

“Can we have dinner instead of kissing now?” Jacen asked.

Letting out a laugh, Hera said, “Of course, Jacen.” Stepping away from Kanan, she led the way to the house, catching hold of Kanan’s hand as she went. Kanan willingly went after her, letting himself be pulled back into the chaos in the house. Their reunion could continue later. Because now, they had a lifetime for it. Neither of them were going anywhere, and that-- that was more than enough for Kanan.

#kaneraweek2021 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla #cham syndulla #janus kasmir #sabine wren #aleksandr kallus #garazeb orrelios #numa rebels #gobi rebels #swr #star wars rebels #star wars #kanera #swr fan fic #kanera is love kanera is life #don't mind me taking a step away from the fake engagement au for today #we'll be back at it again tomorrow though #kaneraweek #kanan x hera #it was dope. the end