#“Oh—...Uh. I mean. Everyone... I regret to inform you that...’

[cyber-streak-2]

Starscream, hurrying to the other ‘Cons to tell them something about Megatron: GUESS WHO JUST GOT MURDERED!

[greynatomy]

the one that got away

alessia russo x reader

second part to regret. had a lot of fun writing this and might do more polls if i can’t choose for myself again. also, ignore how many times rory’s age is asked. didn’t realize how many times i wrote it in.

part 1

———

“Gather ‘round girls!” Jonas’ voice brings Leah back to the present.

Everyone comes together at the middle of the gym, waiting for what Jonas is gonna say.

“Just wanna welcome everyone who was in Australia back and also our ACL squad. We’re all glad to see you all up and running.” Everyone cheers and claps. “Now, I wanna welcome our new signing, Alessia Russo.” Alessia walks towards the group awkwardly, not wanting to trip.

“Hi.” She gives a small wave.

“Don’t be shy Lessi. We’re all friendly.”

“Yeah! We don’t bite!”

Over the course of the week, Alessia gets situated with the team and the dynamics, learning how to play with her new team.

“Mrs. Russo, someone’s been calling your phone. It’s says there’s ten missed calls.”

“From who?”

“Amore Mio.”

Everyone’s attention is now on Alessia, all curios about the girl’s significant other, judging from the name that the trainer said that was shown on her phone.

“Hi, love. What happened? So, she’s fine. Yeah. Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I love you. See you later.”

She gives her phone back to one of the trainers, telling them to inform her if you were to call again.

“What was that all about?” Katie asks in her usual loud voice.

“Oh, sorry. My daughter got hurt at preschool.”

“Wait. Hold up! Daughter? You have a daughter?” She didn’t know who asked, but saw the rest of the team walking closer to her.

“Uh, yeah.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s three now.”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t carry cause you’ve not really took a break from football.”

“Nope. Won’t be carrying any babies in me. Freaks me out a bit, but my wife happily did it.”

“So you have a kid and a wife and none of us knew about it?”

“No one really knows. We wanted to keep it to ourselves. I didn’t want the public knowing and plastering their face in the media yet, and we like our little bubble.”

“Not even Tooney knew?”

“Oh, Tooney knew. She had to give the best friend talk and all that. Wanted to know her opinion before anything turned serious and now we’re four years strong, three of them married.”

“So, when do you think we’ll meet ‘em?”

———

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Not really, but have to be. I’ll be seeing a lot of her more since you’ve transferred.”

“It’s been five years too, she’d probably moved on, yeah?”

“Don’t know Lessi. I hope so. Now let’s get little princess dressed.”

“I’ve already dressed her, babe. Just waiting on you.”

You looked at her skeptically.

“You? Dressed Rory?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alessia asked, offense written on her face.

“Nothing bad, Less. Just, you turn her into a mini me every time.”

“And she loves it every time. I love when the two of you match. My favorite girls.

“And when this baby pops out of me, no doubt he’ll be a mini you.”

“I won’t be outnumbered this time.”

———

“Sorry, I’m late. Kid ran away while I tried getting her in the car.” Alessia explained, walking to where everyone was gathered in the backyard.

“You’re fine. Now, who is this little one?”

“Wanna say your name bubs?”

“I Rory. I dis many.” She says holding up three fingers.

“Woah. That’s a lot of fingers.” Your daughter giggles.

“Did that wife of yours come?”

“Yeah, she probably went to the—”

“—Sorry. I had to go to the washroom. It’s nice to meet you all. Name’s—”

“—Y/n.” Leah finishes, shocked, voice shaking.

“…Hi, Leah.”

“You two know each other.” Katie asks, intrigued how the skipper knew you.

“Uh, yeah. We used to be close friends.”

“No. She was my wife.” You could’ve heard a pin drop from how silent everyone was.

“Okay. Woah. There is a lot to unpack here.”

“And they can do it privately.” Alessia intervened.

“You know about our history.” Leah turns to Alessia, hurt all over her face. She was close to the girl, being on the national team together and the whole time she was in a relationship with her ex-wife.

“Of course I do. She’s my wife.”

The dinner was pretty awkward for a bit after the interaction. Rory have been playing with some of the other girls, you staying by your wife’s side getting to know her teammates.

Eventually, Leah got the courage to go up to you.

“Hey, uh, do you think we could talk?”

You look up at her, seeing the nervous look on her face.

“Sure. Honey, help me up.” Alessia grabs ahold of your hand and the other on your arm to stabilize you. “Let’s go inside.”

You go to little sitting area in the corner of the living room, away from everyone, but not out of sight. There was a couple seconds of silence, very awkward silence.

“Are you just not gonna say anything?”

Leah apologizes. “Uh, how’ve you been?”

“Doing pretty good.”

Another awkward silence.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what to say. I’ve had five years to practice what I was gonna say to you if I ever would run into you, but it just slipped my mind. But I guess I wanted to apologize and say that I took you for granted. I don’t deserve your forgiveness at all for being distant, lying to you about where I’ve been doing or going… for, uh, cheating on you. I’ve hated myself the second it happened.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“What?”

“Why’d you do it? Was it something I did that made you go to another that you should’ve gone to me for or—”

“—No! God, no! You did nothing wrong, it was all on me. I don’t really have an explanation as shitty as it sounds.”

“It’s been five years and I do forgive you. I think I forgave you the moment I met my wife. I needed to close the door on our relationship to be able to truly love her how she should be loved, so I forgive you. Doesn’t mean that I’ll ever forget. But you are forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

Before anyone can say anything else, your daughter runs to you, climbing into your lap.

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Hi, baby. You having fun?”

“Yeah! Stephy and Kya (Kyra) pway with me.”

“That’s so sweet of them.”

Leah watches your interaction with your daughter, a sad smile on her face.

“How old is she?”

“Hey, Rory. This is Mama’s teammate Leah. Can you tell her how old you are?”

“I free!” She holds up three fingers towards Leah.

“Woah! You’re so big! And you have a little sibling on the way. Can I ask how far along you are?” The question directed towards you.

“I’m five months along. It’s a boy.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you! Well, it’s been great catching up with you Leah. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

Leah watches you walk away, your daughter on your hip, towards your wife who was chatting up with a few teammates. She watches Alessia grab Aurora from you, giving you a smile and a kiss, seeing the love you two have.

Maybe in another life, one she hadn’t screwed up on , that could’ve been you and her, but she was just glad that you have someone who lived you the way you deserve to be loved.

Now, that she got everything out of her chest, she would be able to move on, but you’ll always be the one that got away.

[ok-pop-1]

a piñata for your troubles

a goofy ficlet, you can either read it below or on ao3 :)

To say that this is a normal dungeon would be an... understatement.

It's not that there's anything particularly wrong about it, Twi thinks as he squints at the wall. The bricks are uniform(ish), there isn't (that) much wear and tear, it's all as grey and drab as some dungeons tend to be. Objectively, he's just standing in a random dungeon room with the other heroes. It could be from anywhere, anywhen, whatever.

But, it's just...

"Why the hell is there a piñata here?!" Legend shouts, pointing wildly at the bright and goofy horse-thing hanging in the center of the room.

Twi sighs. They'd only just learned what piñatas are last week from Wild, who was extremely distressed to know that the others didn't know about them. And now, in a random dungeon, that should be normal and not weird and which definitely isn't in Wild's era, there's a piñata. Just hanging there. Waiting.

"It be thinkin' ye be needin' an aneurysm." Wind marches forward, ignoring Legend's splutters to pick at the pile of fabric strips hanging below the piñata. "Should we be... fightin' it?"

All eyes turn to Time, who just shrugs. "Maybe?"

"Yes," Wars says immediately after. "We have no idea whether it is safe or not, or what could be stored within it. Better to take care of it before we move on."

'Usually it's just got candy!' Wild signs to the room, though most miss the words.

"We're so fucked," Hyrule mutters next to Twi. "Well, ready for this?"

'No,' Twi laughs, accepting a blindfold from the pile that's being passed around. 'But I'm thinkin' it'll be fun!'

"Uh-huh."

Once blindfolded, Twi is left with the realization that he can't actually see Wild, which means he can't see what Wild would presumably want to say about the best way to fight piñatas. And he's left with the second realization that nobody else can see him, so he can't exactly express that information to the group. Although, now that he thinks about it, Hyrule isn't bad at understanding sign by touch alone...

Waving awkwardly in the air, Twi eventually makes contact with Hyrule. And immediately regrets his decision when an extremely pointed punch slams into his gut.

"Monsters!" Hyrule shouts. "One must've infiltrated just now-- it grabbed me!"

"Attack, aim for the piñata first!" Wars shouts. "But be careful of each other!"

"Should we be takin' off--"

A whack! cuts Wind off, the sound of metal on paper, before immediately being followed by an "oof!" from Legend.

"One of-- those monsters-- got me!" he wheezes from the vague direction of the other side of the room.

Chaos erupts. Twi abandons the thought of using his sword, due to the far-too-close proximity of literally everyone else, and just takes to swinging with his fists. He's pretty sure that there aren't actually any monsters infiltrating their ranks, but it's hard enough to tell amongst the repeated callouts of monster locations.

Eventually, though, one of his fists connects with paper. The piñata.

Gritting his teeth, Twi cocks his arm back and gears up. Sets his feet just-so, prepares to fling himself behind the hit and take care of this possibly-or-possibly-not-cursed piñata in one go. Swings, mentally shouting, imagining the piñata before him, quaking in its papery boots at the sight of his fist barreling down on it.

His hand collides with what can only be described as a metal wall, the clang! of it ringing through the entire room.

"What was that?!" "Time, are you--" "More monsters??" "I found the piñata!"

A tearing sound-- and then the sound of someone (Legend) cackling-- ensues. And then, nothing but utter silence.

Well, not entirely nothing. Twi holds his hand to his chest, because he's pretty sure he just broke every single finger on Time's armor, and his ego admittedly feels defeated by that fact. Oh, and it hurts like a bitch.

"Hey!" Wind shouts. "There only be the piñata! No monsters!"

Huh? Twi (and everyone else, apparently) tug off their blindfolds to stare at...

Seven bedraggled heroes, one piñata lying torn to shreds on the ground, and Wild, sitting with a smug grin at the edge of the room.

'You know,' he says, 'you're not all supposed to put on the blindfolds.'

Shouting sounds from several heroes. Twi drops his head in his one working hand. Lesson learned: next time, ask Wild to elaborate before charging in.

...And ask questions before Wind cheerfully hands you a blindfold. Twi makes sure to note that one, too.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

(hi thank you for being understanding about my question and being cool with doing this!) can I ask for headcanons for somethin like movie night with the 501st? Gender neutral reader is fine

Of course babes. 🩷 We can do movie night any night with the 501st!

Warnings and Information: There’s nothing to do in the barracks tonight, and it’s been a long time since anyone’s seen a good movie. So, throw in like fifteen packets of popcorn in the microwave (one at a time, Hardcase) to get this popcorn poppin’, because the 501st + one good friend is having a movie night! (Once mostly everyone agrees on what to watch, of course…) Blankets, pillows, snacks, and cozy Clone cuddle-piles galore~ Who’s falling asleep first? 😴 2nd person POV with an undescribed reader who has a gender neutral nickname. Bullet point format. We’ll use a little Mando’a, as a treat. Fluff and good feelings all around. Everyone’s happy. Everyone’s safe. 💙

Word count: 1,652

The previews

There’s no paperwork to do, there’s no assignment they need to ship out for in the morning, and they’ve gone ahead and tidied up the bed racks for good measure. They could play some Sabbac to kill the time, but they’ve either lost or misplaced more than half the deck, and they don’t feel like the lights and thumping bass of the local drinking hole tonight. (It’s just not quite the same as 79’s…) Nobody really has the energy to do much of anything, but given their purpose and training as soldiers, they don’t often have nights like this where they simply do… nothing. Being idle leaves a gnawing feeling of discomfort for many in the 501st, so they’re trying to come up with a plan.

“Uh-oh. Hardcase has his thinking face on.” someone mumbles, growing slightly uneasy. 

“I got it. I’m gonna call someone.” Hardcase declares, punching in one of his favorite contacts on the comlink. This makes the ARC troopers slightly nervous. “Not the Captain, I hope-” Fives chimes in warningly. “With any luck he’s just gone to the mess.”

Hardcase shakes his head, grinning broadly before he punches ENTER on the device. “Nah, I’m not calling the Captain right now, I’m callin’ Ember!”

You’re a favorite of the 501st. At least, that’s your theory. 

And through one series of events after the other, you've become well acquainted with them and their antics.

Why else would you possibly need to be commed in the middle of a meal? “Don’t answer that.” Captain Rex advises you. You both barely started eating. It’s not an emergency tone. It can wait. But… maybe you should see who it is, first? “Umm… Hardcase is calling me.” you reply. That means one of two likely scenarios.

Boredom, or trouble.

Specifically future trouble.

(Or he’s in trouble.)

You’re at least going to see how urgently you need to scarf down your meal so the Captain has time to enjoy his for once in three blue moons. “Hello? What's going on Hardcase?” 

“Hey little flame, you wanna do something tonight? We’re bored!”

“Define bored…” You’re gonna regret asking that, you’re sure. “And who’s “we” exactly, Hardcase? How many others are listening?” The jumbled cacophony of names and voices tells you it’s mostly Torrent Company, which you pretty much expected. “... hi Echo and Fives… hello Dogma … hey there Tup, I’m doing okay, thanks… yup, just trying to eat a little dinner, Kix…” 

So why exactly did he call you, you ask Hardcase, exchanging wary glances with the cobalt captain. What's going on? "Do you know where we can find a lot of popcorn for a movie night? You and the Captain are invited too of course, little flame!"

Grab your snacks…

The bunkroom has been torn apart by the time you and Captain Rex make your way in from the mess hall, and it smells better than you imagined for military sleeping quarters. Lots of beds are missing mattresses, bedding, and pillows. Except for Dogma's. His is untouched, saved for a slight rumple in the sheets. "Boys, we're here! … Where'd all the stuff go?" You step further into the room, and find all the missing mattresses laid side-by-side on the floor near one end of the room, where everyone's either currently wrangling with the holo-projector, or taking down a few posters from the wall to clear the space that will serve as your "screen". Tup spots the pair of you first. "Oh, good. Captain and Ember are here!" 

Hardcase is grateful that you found some popcorn for movie night, and that you could come join in for the fun. "There ya are, burc'ya! Just in time to start deciding on a movie!" He offers to get a jump on getting all the popcorn bags popped too, with the promise it's not going to be like last time. Trying to pop more than one bag resulted in a small fire, last time, evidently. 

Jesse and Kix are scouring over the descent film selection together, sorting them by type or genre. Action. Horror. Family-oriented. There's- how'd this kids movie end up in here? Eh, no thanks on the war films, we see enough of that. "What about a comedy?" you suggest, rifling through the stack to see what your pickings are there. There's a couple you do and don't recognize, and some that are tied to fond memories from before the war. "This is a good one, I think most of you guys will like it. I used to watch this a lot whenever I needed a good laugh, or some cheering up." 

Everyone agrees to give it a shot at least if that's what you recommend. In any case, it'll be difficult to get everyone to agree on one holo, and more than half of men squeezed around you on this giant raft of mattresses, blankets and pillows will probably fall asleep partway through it anyhow. 

… and enjoy the show!

"C'mon Dogma, come join us!" you urge with a friendly smile, seeing him return to his neatly-made bunk. "There's plenty of room, I'm sure." Tup and Hardcase, slightly sprawled next to you on your left, would need to move a bit to make it happen. Echo and Fives are sitting nearest the projector, their shoulders brushing against one another with every little movement. Jesse has positioned himself nearest the Captain, who is also beside you on your right. "It's okay if you don't, either. Nobody's gonna force you." you add pointedly, just as you feel someone start to pull his legs under him to go drag his brother into the tangle of limbs and bedding. Maybe he's more comfortable on his bunk. Or perhaps he's not interested in a film right now.

The lights are dimmed, the snacks are passed around, and the film begins. 

You only make it fifteen minutes into the film before there's a casualty: Kix, diligent man that he is to make sure all his brothers are taken care of, falls asleep behind you. "Psst! Kix, can you pass me the- oh nevermind. Ember, could you grab the candy under his arm before it melts?" You carefully wiggle it free and pass it up to Jesse before tucking a loose blanket kicking around over Kix. Generally, once Kix is out, he's out, so the group doesn't have to worry about waking him for a while. 

Hardcase stays surprisingly still through most of the movie so long as he keeps his hands mostly occupied in some capacity, or has one of his brothers leaning on him in some way. He's a very tactile person, so it's no surprise that he's slowly migrating around the raft of mattresses as each of his brothers either allow Hardcase to fiddle around with stuff he finds in their pockets, or just hold him close in a brotherly embrace for a bit if he's getting too disruptive. (He eventually settles down around the midpoint of the movie, and is one of the few who stays awake through the whole thing.)

Tup pays attention to most of the comedy film, occasionally conversing in whispers with Fives and Echo about their opinions on the jokes until Echo nods off for a bit, and the hushed conversation continues back up again when he wakes up before movie's end. It's Jesse who's not paying much attention to the film, but he's not too disruptive. Jesse almost makes it to the end of the movie before he falls asleep in the middle of scrolling through something on a datapad that's made its way into the nest of pillows and blankets and limbs, his head resting on Captain Rex's knee. 

Dogma does eventually join everyone on the floor. You suspect he was starting to feel a little left out, or maybe he changed his mind about the offer you made earlier, growing bored of whatever he'd been reading on his datapad, or deciding he'd give the movie a try. He tentatively makes his way over, and asks if he can still sit by you. "Of course, Dogma. Here, I saved some popcorn for you!" You give him the rest of the bowl you'd set aside for him, unable to get up and give it to him yourself since you've got multiple people surrounding you. (You didn't want Dogma to miss out on the snacks just because he wasn't initially watching the movie with everyone.) "Thanks for saving me some, Ember." Captain Rex reaches behind you and gives Dogma a warm pat on the shoulder. "Glad you joined us, brother." There's an unspoken finally in his words, but he's just glad to see that Dogma didn't end up isolating himself for long. 

You and Captain Rex, being firmly in the middle of the mattress pile, end up being the ones who become the human pillows of the group. It's nice to see all your friends having fun tonight, and be a part of enjoying a movie together. No stiff, uncomfortable armor; everyone's either in their fatigues or their blacks, and draped over and across their friends and brothers. Everyone is content and full of maybe a little too much popcorn and other snacks. You'll have a heck of a mess on your hands to clean up, either in the morning, or when everyone returns their respective mattresses to their bunks tonight, too.

Nights like this are how it should be. Everyone's happy and there are signs of trust everywhere you look. Brothers let their sleeping siblings rest on their shoulders, against their backs, their legs, or under their arms without complaint. There are sleepy smiles and shared blankets. Those who stayed awake until the end are now joking happily with one another and their Captain, and you too. 

And for a moment, in this night that will become a cherished memory no matter which way this war winds up, everyone you care about is safe. 

And what could be better than that?

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[orphiczaney]

uh oh i’ve done it again.

they’re back, bitches.

yknow what that means? i’m gonna yap about them more.

y’all know that meme that goes “HER pronouns are THEY/THEM!!!” yeah that’s the dynamic between inez and alastor. he hasn’t quite figured out how pronouns work, and inez is very patient with him :]

one day after a long shoot they immediately go to the bar and this conservation ensues:

inez: HUSK. YOU’RE A CAT.

husk: bad start.

inez: DO YOU PURR???

husk: …why

inez: BECAUSE *exasperated sigh* I HAD A CAT WHEN I WAS ALIVE AND ANYTIME I WAS SAD HE’D COME LAY ON MY CHEST AND PURR UP A STORM AND IT ALWAYS MADE ME FEEL BETTER AND RIGHT NOW I AM IN EMOTIONAL DISTRESS.

husk: no-

inez: HUSK CAN I PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP LAY ON YOU WHILE YOU PURR?? STRICTLY PLATONICALLY. I WILL NEVER SPEAK ABOUT IT TO A SOUL. PINKY PROMISE. PLEASE. I WILL GIVE YOU $50.

husk: …UGH fucking fine

speaking of cuddling, inez has in fact done so with angel. they love the chest fluff. honestly, inez has probably cuddled with EVERYONE in the hotel, except for alastor, because other than husk, inez is who most people go to vent to. they are just a very good listener.

they have been hit by approximately 13 different cars. the fact that they are not dead dead is a fucking miracle.

in their life inez was an editor for a big name author, as an attempt to boost their own writing career. unfortunately, their tendency to trip on benadryl to come up with their ideas was their achilles heel, being the thing that killed them.

inez is fascinated by nifty. they just think she is such a silly little creature that they are dedicated to trying to become besties with her.

like real deer, they are incredibly jumpy, and are easily shaken by loud noises. they freeze up when they get startled. because of this they wear sound proof headphones around the hotel, so that the antics of everyone else don’t keep them consistently frozen up. it also means that they are very soft spoken, as even their own voice startles them occasionally. (one time they accidentally dropped something while helping angel clean his room and of course that made them freeze in place. it was the first time angel had seen this happen, and he genuinely thought that they had died again) now this does have very sad implications when you take their relationship with val into consideration, but i’m choosing to keep this post lighthearted, so i won’t get into that

i regret to inform you form you that inez does in fact have four nipples, like real deer.

they have weekly meetings with vaggie to try and improve on their ability to stand up for themself. it is pretty much just a big roleplay session where vaggie pretends to be a Big Mean Guy, and inez tries to speak their mind. it’s kind of working! one time angel was admittedly being a bit of an asshole, sort of undermining inez’s struggles with val, and they WENT OFF ON HIM. they did profusely apologize afterwards for ‘being mean’ and angel had to be like “no, you’re right, stop that, i was being a cunt, always tell me when i’m being a cunt.”

they build legos with sir pentious. he’s like being creative and making his own shit, and inez is just following the instructions to make a big flower :]

[hannahbarberra162]

Hiiii! Just appearing here to vent after spending the whole day being treated like an animal (it's not hypothetical, not a force of expression, I mean literally), and to point after that experience that your Readers didn't suffer enough AT ALL - I'm not dramatic - and that I understand them (within the acceptable, right?!). Sometimes you're in a really shitty situation, and you realize that, but you start to fluctuate between fear of getting out and regretting it and the curiosity about what's going to happen next.

P.S: To be clear, I'm doing great, this was just the result of a very strange and dubious freshman college culture!

P.S.S: And I wasn't so literally treated like an animal, but closer than far! Kinda crazy

Uhhhh @luarsunnynny, are you OK? What kind of college are you going to??? Blink twice if you need Luffy to save you. I’m a while from college but I’m here if you need to chat. In your honor, a college Marco / birding blorbo. Marco is whatever age you want him to be lol, doesn’t have to be a lot older.

Brief - AU College, Marco x F!Reader

You’d signed up for the ornithology outpost course as an effort to get the last four science credits you needed. It was perfect - you loved being outdoors and it was in the mountains. You’d always wanted to go but hadn’t had the time while you were studying for your degree. You’d be able to pay for it like it was school but it would function more like an extended camping trip. None of your friends were going - they all had jobs or internships over the summer. There wasn’t any reception where you were going, you’d all agreed to write letters to one another.

You’d tried signing up for the geology course but it had filled too quickly. Your second choice was marine biology, but you’d missed that one too. So you signed up for ornithology, which had quite a few available spots. You’d heard a lot about the course from others in the department - the course was rigorous and challenging but not impossible. You’d also heard that the instructor was old but fair. In his prime, he’d been the holder of the Big Year title for multiple years in a row. 

You packed up your things, making sure you had everything on the list. The day arrived when you were to meet the class at the bus taking you to the camp site. You stood at the designated area, twiddling awkwardly with the straps to your bag. A very handsome guy about your age with no shirt came up to you, cowboy hat on his head. 

“Is this the spot for the bird class?” He had a much lighter pack than you - did he remember to bring anything?

“Oh, uh, yeah. This is it. Are you in the class?” You inwardly cringed. Of course he was in the class, that’s why he was asking.

“Yeah, yeah. Couldn’t get into the entomology class, so I picked birds. Kinda similar.” He smiled at you. They were not at all similar, but you nodded anyway. He continued talking to you. “Did you hear that the instructor semi retired over the summer? Apparently his son is teaching the class this summer when we’re in the field and he’s teaching the classroom lessons. Hope he’s easier than the Pops.” You hadn’t heard anything but you hoped he was good too. The guy extended his hand. “I’m Ace,” he said. You saw a tattoo on his arm bearing the same information. 

“Nice to meet you, Ace. I think we’ll be spending a lot of time together this summer,” you said, cringing again. A few more students showed up, the group nearly completed. The door to the bus opened and a very tall and very good looking man got off holding a coffee mug. He looked quite chilled, like he was a counselor for a summer camp instead of a professor. He smiled at the group, and adjusted his glasses. 

“I’m Marco Newgate, the field instructor for the ornithology course. Hope everyone’s in the right place yoi. We’ll be leaving in a few moments, put your bags on the luggage racks please.” He turned and went back on the bus, sitting and drinking his coffee with his legs crossed.

Newgate? Like the shipping magnate Newgate? You’d signed up for the summer course, but you’d end up with a summer crush if you spent enough time with Marco. He was exactly your type, but obviously these were just silly thoughts. He was your professor. Your hot, knowledgeable, ornithology professor. And nothing more.

[lizardperson]

can you feel my bass

[on ao3]

fandom: original work rating: g wc: 695 prompt: #fff270 lights and sirens for @flashfictionfridayofficial

---

"I hate it," Valerie yelled.

"What?" Eli yelled back and moved closer to her.

"I said I hate it!"

He gave her the typical Eli-look. "Oh, come on! You said you'd give it a chance!"

"Well, I did. And I hate it."

He rolled his eyes. "We've been here for a full three minutes! You promised me an hour."

"I hate you," she sighed. He wasn't wrong. And he knew her too well, that's why he had talked her into staying in this stupid club for another fifty-seven minutes before she was allowed to officially label it as a 'once and never again' experience. And she already had regrets.

"No, you don't," he countered - and again, he wasn't wrong. "Anyway, I'm going to dance now. Feel free to join me." Eli turned on his heel and dove into the crowd without waiting for an answer.

Valerie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, looking after him. "I don't dance," she grumbled to herself.

Instead, she made her way to the bar. Might as well get a drink if she had to kill an hour without losing her mind. Finally holding a beer in hand, she leaned against a wall and let her eyes wander across the room. What a ridiculous idea this had been, going 'to the club'. While the crowd was mostly her age - at least Eli hadn't dragged her to some college club or something - she still felt completely out of place and awkward as hell. And she did hate it. The music overall wasn't bad, but way too loud, the lights were too flashy, and there were too many people.

Valerie had promised Eli an hour, but nobody said she actually had to spend that time on the dancefloor, or anywhere near it for that matter, so she eventually fled outside for some fresh air, and peace and quiet. A few small groups of people stood around, chatting and smoking, and she bummed a cigarette off someone, then found a lonely corner and enjoyed the cool night air.

A voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Hi!"

That tiny word was enough to set off blaring sirens in her head. Valerie looked up and sighed. "Oh. It's you." Great. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see tonight.

Annabelle beamed at her. "Wouldn't have taken you for the club-going type." Everyone else would have said that in a mocking tone - but not her. Why did she always have to be so damn earnest. And what was she grinning about anyway - no, not grinning. Smiling. Like she was actually happy that they had run into each other here. Valerie hated her.

"I'm not. That's why I'm standing around outside, instead of in the actual club," she informed her.

"Yeah, took me a bit to get into it, too," Annabelle chuckled. "But once you manage to let go and just forget the people around you and let the music carry you, it's actually really fun. Almost a bit of a transcendental experience sometimes."

Valerie wanted to respond with a mean comment, to make fun of her in some way, but for inexplicable reasons her usually so sharp tongue failed her. Instead, she just gave a vague "uh-huh".

"You wanna dance with me?" Annabelle's smile grew even wider, making her dimples more prominent. If it were lighter here, her many freckles and the slight wrinkles around her eyes would be more visible too. Why was she smiling so much all the time anyway…

"Doesn't your husband mind or something?" Valerie scoffed, getting a loud laugh in return.

"No, he really doesn't."

"Anyway, no."

Annabelle looked at her for a few moments, still smiling, then she nodded. "Okay. Then I will leave you to your beer. Hope you still have fun tonight."

"Sure. Whatever," Valerie grimaced.

"I'll see you around." Annabelle winked at her and finally left.

"Unfortunately," Valerie murmured to herself, looking after her. What was it with this woman and her ridiculous bouncy walk. Like she was skipping wherever she went. And did she seriously just wink at her? Valerie hated her so much. At least that's what she kept telling herself…

[momonica05]

Jack Jack - my tav for the "jack of all trades" achievement!

My urge to info dump about an oc won so now please, meet my son: Jack Jack (I don't know how to make a good blog post on tumblr, so I apologize if the images are a little too big)

JJ wasn't born a tiefling. He actually came from a family of humans, but he has no recollection of it outside of his father and grandparents, whom he hates with all his heart

At the age of 6, his father disobeyed his patron (for a good reason, but he doesn't know that, hehe). But instead of punishing his father directly, JJ was the target. He was turned into a Mephistopheles tiefling that day, and his family was horrified. He remembers the look of pure hatred and fear from his grandparents, shouting at him, saying he was now a devil. He doesn't remember his father's face, but he remembers his fingers, pointing at the door, and his husky voice "get out"

Since then, he had to live at the city of Baldur's Gate all by himself. He had some friends, partners, and even a mentor (which the dream visitor had taken form of)... but he never got back what he lost that day: love and identity

He spent a good portion of his life, mainly his adolescence, trying to "fit in". He even cut his horns off, which he regretted later down the road as he's now more confident in who he is. Beeing cursed by a devil at the age of 6, as one might imagine, was no easy feat. And aside from gaining an appearance that everyone deemed as "hellspawn", he also gained powers. Powers in which he can not control very well, but powers nonetheless (sorcerer wild magic)

After a whole life of stealing, performing, trying out magic and needing to run because uh oh you accidentally sumoned a troll in a bar! He... well, his life continued shit, but he never gave up. He had some not so trustworthy friends, but hey, as long as they're not a devil or a warlock, he's a very social guy!

Before he was captured by the mindflayers, he was actually planning on traveling around! He wanted to get all his skills worked on. Maybe study a bit more of his magic, as a wizard.... maybe becoming a bard with his musical talent... hell, maybe he'd finally accept his calling for the rogue life! The opportunities were endless!

That is until, of course, he got a tadpole in his mind... but eh, he was planning on traveling one day anyways, so why not use this as an excuse? (definitely not frightened at all haha what do you mean?)

So far, he's really enjoying his adventure! Here's what he thinks about each companion:

Lae'zel: heh, she wants to kill me! (nervously sweating and trying to do what she says because he's terrified, but also really likes her interrogation methods!)

Shadowheart: she's hiding something. She ain't fooling me...

Astarion: he's also hiding something, never EVER trust the snobs from the upper city.... unless, of course, you want their money/sleep with them. (thinks Astarion is a less hot version of him, with how similar they act. Except JJ actually has a soft spot for children and little rascals, so he'll always help them. He's more chaotic good)

Gale: i really liked him and wanted him to teach me how to do magic safely, but never mind! He just ate my magic spear, which doesn't seem very safe...

Wyll: he makes me angry with how he challenges my morals, okay? you shouldn't be nice! You're a warlock! (has a mental breakdown watching Wyll get transformed like he did and wonders if his father was a good man like Wyll all along)

Karlach: I was deadset on killing her... turns out she's not a devil! just a person like me! i really like her (wants to kill Zariel and enter rage like Karlach one day)

BONUS:

He knew damn well what he was getting into but opened the door anyways and said he was gonna write a smut about it (he's batshit insane)

Anyways... I guess that's it. That's all I have for now, I haven't progressed much into the game... sorry if his information is a little scattered around, I don't have it organized and probably didn't mention somethings (he chose his name, for example)

[infernaleikon]

I am still thinking about your ugly Betty/devil wears Prada obikin headcanon and sighing dreamily about it. Can we get some more scenarios from that universe?? Maybe the first time they met? 🥺🥺🥺

oh, anon, you are so sweet!! thank you so much <333 here's their first meeting for you.

modern au with editor-in-chief!obi-wan and assistant!anakin (3.2k words)

*     *     * *     *     * *     *     *

The Jedi offices on the 36th floor of the Temple Publications building are bustling with life when Obi-Wan steps off the elevator. He regrets—again and not for the first time—that he hadn’t arranged to visit the Jedi offices before starting as editor-in-chief, but his presence in Stewjon had been required until the very end and it would’ve been a disservice to his employees to leave during such a critical time, even just for a few days.

It’s not an insurmountable problem, or even a grave one to begin with: Mace had instructed and informed everyone about when Obi-Wan would take over for him, and he’d assured him that his assistant would take good care of him.

“He’s not moving on with you?” Obi-Wan had asked, both surprised and relieved that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of looking for a new assistant.

“He wasn’t amenable to the suggestion,” Mace had answered without elaborating.

It would’ve made Obi-Wan slightly suspicious if Mace hadn’t spoken highly of him before, promising he’d be leaving Obi-Wan in good hands.

Now, Obi-Wan checks today’s schedule on his phone. The first hour is reserved to sort out the most important issues upon his arrival. There’s a staff meeting scheduled right after and a board meeting after that, and then there are a couple of hours blocked off titled Walk Walk Fashion Baby which—he can only guess what that means but there’s no further info given, so he decides to circle back to that later.

The first block tells him to ‘find Anakin’ in bolded all caps and nothing more. Obi-Wan lifts his gaze from his phone and makes his way over to the reception to ask where he can—well—find Anakin.

There’s a man—a boy—a man, going by the width of his shoulders, standing at the reception counter. He stands out between the rest of the people around him, dressed plainly in a pair of well-worn looking jeans, old sneakers, a thin shirt that appears as if it has seen one too many washing cycles and shows off his collarbones almost indecently, and plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing sinewy forearms. Leaning with his back against the counter and his elbows resting on its surface, he’s scrolling through his phone. Obi-Wan finds himself oddly enthralled by his unassuming elegance.

As Obi-Wan approaches, the man looks up and meets his gaze. The blue of his irises is almost startling as they fix on Obi-Wan. His hair curls around his ears, at his neck, nearly brushing his shoulders, and the fullness of his lips is dangerously inviting.

Obi-Wan lightly clears his throat and redirects his thoughts.

He must be a model, waiting for something or someone. There’s a prominent but narrow scar bisecting his right brow, skipping his eye and ending high on his cheekbone that Obi-Wan knows they’ll remove during edits and retouches but hopes, nevertheless, they won’t.

“Hello there,” he says once he reaches the man, and notes, senselessly, that the stranger is an inch or two taller. “You must be waiting for—” Obi-Wan doesn’t actually know who this stranger could be waiting for as he’s not familiar with Jedi’s stylists yet.

The man blinks at him, lips slightly parted, and Obi-Wan needs to not look at him for at least a minute. So he says, “Actually, let me take you to the Closet. I’m sure they’ll be able to get you sorted and settled.”

“Uh,” the model says with a slight quirk between his brows and a bemused expression on his face. Something flits across his face and then he rights himself, grabs the tablet and the papercup that sit by his elbow and says, “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan turns and—

He doesn’t actually know where the Closet is. And, a little voice in his head provides, he’s supposed to find Anakin, not wayward models that are probably scheduled to be taken care of anyway.

Well, he’s in it now. And there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the company of a pretty model.

Obi-Wan catches sight of the directory hanging on the wall beside the reception that urges him to go left for the Closet, and he’s thankful for the help, even though going left, as it turns out, isn’t much of a help when he finds several doors and hallways there.

He peers into the first door and finds a copy room. The model, when he glances back over his shoulder, is tapping away on his phone single-handedly and with impressive speed which is, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, quite a feat. He’s not a slow typer himself but if he has to do it with one hand only, he’s definitely nowhere near as quick.

It also means that he probably didn’t notice Obi-Wan striking out. Small mercies.

He looks up at Obi-Wan then and raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” he asks and tilts his head slightly to the side. It’s—endearing. Enticing. It shouldn’t draw focus to the column of his throat but it does.

Obi-Wan is not distracted by that. “Not at all.”

A woman rounds the corner with several garment bags in her hand and Obi-Wan peeks into the hallway she’s just exited to find that it ends in big double glass doors behind which, very clearly, is the Closet. He breathes an internal sigh of relief.

“I must apologize,” he says, catching the curious glance his companion throws him. “This is my first day. I’m not familiar with the layout of the offices yet.”

Obi-Wan holds one of the glass doors open for the model to pass. The man hums as he does, eyes catching on Obi-Wan’s, before they both step further into the sprawling room.

It’s not the first Closet Obi-Wan has been in but it’s by far the airiest with ceiling-to-floor windows and big mirrors, racks and racks with clothes from different designers, high shelves with shoes and glass cases with jewelry. There are some soft-looking lounges spread around the room.

“I’m actually supposed to be finding my assistant right now,” Obi-Wan says with a wry smile and pushes a hand through his hair.

The model fixes him with unreadable eyes. “Why aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his lungs. Why isn’t he, indeed.

Thankfully, he’s saved from answering that—or rather, trying to answer that—when a young woman slips out between two clothes racks. Her hair falls in two thick braids over her shoulders and for a moment, Obi-Wan is so captivated by the rich blue of her hair, that he forgets to greet her and introduce himself.

“Mr. Kenobi!” A smile spreads across her face as she sticks out her hand for him to shake. “Aayla Secura. I didn’t expect you until this afternoon.”

“Apologies,” he offers, startled, because there’s no appointment scheduled with her in his calendar. “Obi-Wan, please. I hope I’m not disrupting your schedule, I only meant to leave—” Obi-Wan falters, realizing he hasn’t even asked for the model’s name. “This model in your care.”

Aayla’s brows furrow as her gaze flickers from Obi-Wan to the man beside him. “He’s not—” She cuts herself off, crossing her arms over her chest and fixing him with a flat look. “Anakin.”

Obi-Wan blinks and turns to look at—Anakin, apparently. Who grins, unrepentant and devastating, as he gives Obi-Wan a tiny shrug and a wave.

“Hi,” Anakin says, and his eyes glint. “Sorry”—he doesn’t sound sorry at all—“you seemed so eager to help that I didn’t want to rain on your parade.”

Aayla snorts before Obi-Wan can even think to say anything. “You just did it so you can gloat about someone thinking you’re a model.”

Obi-Wan, inexplicably, cannot find it in him to be offended at being the butt of the joke because, well—anyone with working vision could attest that Anakin looks ethereally pretty enough to be a model. Actually, it is rather outrageous that he’s not one. Criminal, even.

“You knew who I was and you just let me bumble around?” is what he ends up saying, wincing inwardly.

“I believe in learning by doing,” Anakin says with another casual shrug and the look he gives Obi-Wan is utterly mischievous. “Besides, Aayla needed to see you anyway, so you helped me beat two birds with one stone.”

Obi-Wan is very fairly distracted by Anakin claiming he helped him.

Oh, this is dangerous.

“You must’ve driven Mace mad,” Obi-Wan comments, almost nonsensically. It’s a hard thing to unsettle Mace who is one of the calmest and coolest people Obi-Wan knows, pragmatic and patient and kind. Kind, indeed, as the most ambivalent thing he’d said about Anakin is that he has a tendency to do things his way and would occasionally go overboard.

Anakin smirks deviously. “I got a very deep sigh out of him once. It was better than any orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Poor boy. “That’s a shame.”

“No.” Anakin pouts. He pouts. “It was glorious.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan says and kinks an eyebrow. “I meant your orgasms. They must not have been satisfying at all.”

It’s out before he can stop himself, and he can already see Anakin scheduling a course on sexual harrassment for him—if not getting him fired altogether.

Anakin splutters, a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. “They were fine,” he insists and scowls furiously.

Now that’s even sadder, but this time Obi-Wan has the presence of mind to keep that to himself. He’s a grown man, he’s an editor-in-chief and this is his first day; he cannott go around commenting on his employee’s—his assistant’s—poor sex life. Besides, Anakin’s definition of ‘fine’ could be ‘world-shattering’, who is Obi-Wan to tell?

(Except Anakin didn’t sound very convincing.)

(But Obi-Wan decidedly doesn’t dwell on that.)

Aayla clears her throat, and Obi-Wan startles. “Anakin’s right. I did need to see you today to get your size, so we can prepare some suits for you for the benefit on Friday.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan says, grateful for the distraction, and turns to face Aayla. “Do you need to take my measurements?”

“That’s okay.” She smiles wryly. “I have an eye for sizes. But you do need to come back to try them on and we’ll make the adjustments then.”

Right. Aayla is a stylist, and Obi-Wan, apparently, is an idiot in the face of unreasonably beautiful assistants.

He takes a breath and a moment to gather himself. “Well, I know where the Closet is now,” he says with a pointed look at Anakin who ducks his head endearingly.

Obi-Wan agrees to drop by again tomorrow to try on some suits before he lets Anakin lead him back out into the office hallways.

Anakin offers him the cup he’s been carrying around. “Here’s your coffee.”

Obi-Wan blinks, and Anakin raises his eyebrows at him. He’s holding it out with a confidence that speaks of routine, which it probably is, but Obi-Wan doesn’t know the details of Mace and Anakin’s daily rapport.

“I drink tea,” Obi-Wan says after a beat too long.

“Perfect, because this is a Pumpkin Spice Latté with a triple espresso, two extra shots of pumpkin spice and full fat milk, and it’s for me.” Anakin says it like he’s trying to aggravate someone and grins like a happy kid before taking a big gulp.

“I can get my own drinks,” Obi-Wan says as Anakin steers him through the offices, making happy noises as he downs the latté. “You don’t need to bring me any.”

Anakin shrugs easily and tucks his tablet and phone under his arm. He pries the lid off the cup to swipe a finger through the foam that’s left behind inside and raises it to his mouth to lick it off.

It’s—obscene.

For a brief moment, Obi-Wan considers putting in for a new assistant but discards the thought as quickly as it came. He can’t punish Anakin for his own transgressions. Obi-Wan is a professional. Anakin is his employee. He’s—young. It would be absurd to entertain any sort of…fantasy.

Anakin leads him swiftly to his office: an open room with the same ceiling-to-floor windows as in the Closet that’s otherwise clean and minimalistic and looks like it’s been lifted straight from some joyless interior designer’s mind. He’s definitely going to make some changes.

When he looks over, he finds Anakin gazing at him with oddly appraising eyes, a smudge of foam at the corner of his bottom lip, and his hand twitches to reach out and wipe it away. Instead, Obi-Wan curls it into a loose fist and smiles. Anakin ducks his head again and his eyes flutter.

“You have some foam at the corner of your mouth,” Obi-Wan says.

“Oh.” Anakin wipes at his lips and brings his hand before his eyes, and then licks the remnants of foam away. “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan can only nod.

Anakin walks him through setting up all his accounts, connects his phone to the office Wi-Fi and instructs him on how the phones work. They go over the week’s schedule briefly while Anakin also outlines the current projects and possible issues that might arise. He ushers Obi-Wan to the first staff meeting and sits next to him the whole time, adding some comments here and there as each department introduces itself and what they’re currently working on.

After that, Anakin shows him to the conference room where his board meeting��and future board meetings—takes place. He doesn’t stay for that which Obi-Wan is almost disappointed about. But it’s a rather short introductory round where Mace—now a board member—and the rest of them welcome him to the magazine.

Anakin is waiting for him outside the conference room, tapping away at his tablet. He looks up when Obi-Wan approaches and the blue of his eyes is just as mesmerizing as it was the first time Obi-Wan saw it.

“That was shorter and nicer than I expected it would be,” Obi-Wan confesses in the elevator on their way down to the Jedi offices.

Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

Obi-Wan smiles ruefully. “The ones I’m used to were more—combative.”

Anakin’s gaze is steady, and he hums. “The Temple board—they do manage and direct but the culture here is far more open and unconventional than anywhere else in the industry.”

He says it conversationally, casually, but there’s an undercurrent in his tone, something warm and appreciative. It makes Obi-Wan smile to himself. Anakin likes it here.

“No need for me to be anxious, then,” Obi-Wan notes.

Anakin looks back up at him with big eyes. “You were anxious?”

“A little bit.”

“Huh. It didn’t show at all.”

Obi-Wan smirks. “I was. On the inside.”

Anakin scowls fiercely at him. “Well, that won’t work. I’m not inside you, unfortunately.”

Obi-Wan only barely keeps himself from choking on absolutely nothing. “Pardon?”

When he looks over, Anakin is scowling down at his tablet with his lips pressed into a tight, thin line and a delicate, utterly delicious flush dusting his cheeks.

He clears his throat pointedly before meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes with a defiant little tilt of his chin. “I mean, I need to know what you’re thinking, so I can be of better help to you.”

“Would you like me to journal my thoughts?” Obi-Wan asks innocently and watches the blush deepen in time with Anakin’s eyes growing mutinous. He’s perhaps enjoying flustering him a bit more than is appropriate.

Anakin huffs. “If you can’t keep track of your thoughts otherwise, yes, please do.”

It almost startles a laugh out of Obi-Wan: the unexpected snide and the utter, well, disrespect are both delightful and, for Obi-Wan specifically, troublesome.

Pretty and sharp. Oh, this boy is dangerous.

Anakin leads him around the offices, shows him the photo studios, the differently themed break rooms and introduces him to some more people. He grows less huffy with each new area or person they meet and answers Obi-Wan’s question with a patience that Obi-Wan, truthfully, didn’t think he’d have.

Anakin, as it turns out, is full of surprises.

They’re on their way back to Obi-Wan’s office when Anakin suddenly curses, grabs his biceps and shoves him into the nearest room before following him and pulling the door firmly shut. It’s a tiny utility closet, as it turns out, with barely any room for one person, let alone two. Which is why he finds himself pressed up tightly with his back to Anakin’s chest and Anakin’s mouth perilously close to his cheek.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, questing, and Anakin’s hand around his biceps tightens a fraction.

“Sorry,” he mutters. His breath brushes across the side of Obi-Wan’s face. “There’s someone out there who you don’t need to meet today. Or, at all actually.”

“And you know that because—”

“Because I’m your assistant and it’s fucking Jabba, and he probably heard that you took over for Mace and thinks he can get his hooks into you.”

Obi-Wan frowns at a bottle of industrial bleach. “So you’re saying you don’t think I can deal with him myself?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t have to deal with him now or any other time because Temple doesn’t do business with the Hutts,” Anakin insists. “And he knows that, theoretically. He’s just that stupid.”

“While I appreciate your—protectiveness, I assure you I can—”

Anakin shifts slightly behind him and Obi-Wan’s words die on his tongue.

“I don’t doubt your capability to deal with him, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says seriously against his ear. “Will you please just trust me that you really don’t want to do this today?”

Obi-Wan swallows and sucks in a breath. “I suppose,” he replies on the exhale, and tries not to relish in the delicious heat of Anakin at his back.

“I do like a good spooning,” Obi-Wan informs him lightly after a beat, even as his mouth dries out with incomprehensible velocity. “How’s that for sharing my thoughts?”

Anakin’s soft groan catches against the hair at his temple, and Obi-Wan feels a shiver skitter down his spine.

“That’s great,” Anakin answers, oddly strangled. “Just—I was about to tell you this before I saw Jabba. Don’t—uh—” He clears his throat and his voice drops. “This is, um—people come to this closet to fuck, usually. It’s the only room in the office that can be locked from the inside—even though most forget to do that, so don’t—don’t come here unless you want to get an eyeful or to—uh.”

“Fuck?” Obi-Wan supplies helpfully while his brain wonders how he, logistically, could fuck Anak—

He stops the thought from forming fully and takes a steadying breath when Anakin’s rough exhale burns across his skin.

“Yeah,” Anakin finally mutters low in his ear.

Obi-Wan thinks very hard about scrubbing dirty toilets with the bleach in front of him. “I’m not sure this is a—an appropriate topic for us,” he says then.

He needs boundaries if he wants to stay sane. And not be fired for sexual misconduct at the workplace because he couldn’t stop lusting after his obscenely pretty assistant.

“Sorry—I’m—I wasn’t trying to—I didn’t mean—” Anakin’s next breath comes in a stutter. “Please don’t fire me.”

“I’m not planning to, Anakin, relax,” Obi-Wan assures him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” Anakin’s cheek brushes his ear. “Nobody’s warned you about me, have they?”

Obi-Wan can’t help the small laugh that escapes him. “No, certainly not.”

At least not in any way that could’ve prepared Obi-Wan in any way for the menace that Anakin Skywalker turned out to be.

“Sorry,” Anakin says again. “I’ll—I’ll be better.”

“There’s no need. You’re already doing so well, darling.” And it’s true, Obi-Wan has glimpsed enough of Anakin to know that, even without the memory of Mace’s reassurance.

But Anakin shudders against him, and—

Oh, this is going to be a challenge.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it. || myg

no. 10: no regrets

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: kanako is an established idol with a growing career and a secret relationship with a producer from her label, haneul. when she’s asked to work with yoongi and rm to create a track for her, she gains unexpected feelings for a certain upcoming rapper. with her increasing fame, her controlling boyfriend, a set of six boys who seem to have grown an attachment to her, and a new boy who’d give her the world, how will she figure out a way to balance it all?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 3.6k

genre: ANGST, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn, lots of pining, fluff

chapter warnings: toxic relationship (not w/myg), mentions of mental health, mention of a box cutter, SLIGHT SMUT

inspo song: billie bossa nova by billie eilish

"it's hard to stop it once it starts."

MARCH 7TH, 2012, 8:02AM

Bang-PD enters the room with an obvious rush. He was never the type to be late, so being two minutes late was almost inexcusable for himself. He sits down with only his usual meeting binder, stocked to the fullest on what we are to talk about. He adjusts the frames of his glasses before taking them off to rub his eyes of sleep. 

“Uh- sorry, everyone. Had a long night.” He mumbles. I know why, because of the scandal. It seems obvious at this point that this man has been losing sleep because of it. Answering media questions, doing stand alone press conferences, no thanks to me. I try not to feel bad, but just like many times before, it’s impossible not to. Although the staff members here always give me a genuine smile and ‘hello’, they’re always somewhat in a hurry. It’s been quiet chaos in the BigHit building, and I have been told minimal information. To keep me safe, sane? Probably. 

“Okay everyone, thank you for coming. A couple things,” He says, looking at me and the seven boys who sit in front of him. 

“First, as some have you may have heard, we’ve lost some important sponsors. It’s lost us a lot of money and time, but that’s beside the point.” Nice. 

“While we’ve lost sponsors, we’ve gained some better ones thankfully. They’ve been very helpful during this time in support of you, Kanako. Saying, and I quote, we join this company as we are in full support of women. Our deepest condolences for you during this time.”

“What? Did someone die?” Jungkook snortles. No one else reacts. He’s quick to shut back down.

“I didn’t know anyone was in support of me.” I whisper. 

Bang gives me an empathetic smile, “There’s lots of people on your side, Kanako. Moving on,”

I guess I really have been out of the loop since losing all contact with the outside world. But lots of people on my side also means lots of people who are not on my side, and that’s what flutters outside this very building. On the TV screens that have quieted down in the midst of this scandal for a tiny bit, but there’s still crumbs. 

“They’ve given us a generous sum which resulted in us making this team decision.”

Oh no. What’s he going to say? They’re finally set to kick me off? They don’t need the income I bring in anymore, or actually, lack thereof now. This silence is deafening. 

“Kanako, we’ve decided to send you to Jeju for a few days. Four days to be exact. If you’re willing to, or wanting to. Now, we have enough for the seven boys to come along as well, but if you’d like to have this time for yourself that’s completely understandable as well. The decision is yours.” He says. My mouth is in a shameless ‘o’ shape from my tiny gasp. This is far from what I expected. If anything, I would’ve never guessed this in a million years. 

“Why send me off?” I phrase it like they’re trying to give me, which causes Bang’s face to give an unimpressed expression. “We’re not sending you off, we want you to have some time away from this building. It’s too dangerous to let you go to restaurants still and we’ve managed to find a secluded spot for you to enjoy, if you’d like.” All this for me? Something else good has come, surprisingly. My unlucky streak has finally ended, with a triumph of celebration in my brain. Serotonin that I haven’t unlocked, you could say.  It’s no doubt in my mind that I want the boys to come, looking at Jungkook and seeing his begging eyes like a dog about to go for a walk. He’s almost shaking with how much excitement he has. 

But I keep myself calm and collected, nodding slowly. “Yes, I’d like to go. W-With the group. Will it be all shared?” 

“There’s enough room for the boys to share and for you to have your own. But yes, you’ll be in the house together.” Yet another recipe for disaster? Or maybe, on the positive side, an adventure with seven boys I love deeply. And lots of fun. 

And just in time for Yoongi’s birthday.

Bang-PD turns his head to the boys, “Would you all like to-”

“Y-Yes.” Jungkook stutters, being on the brink of imploding. His eagerness only makes me smile. 

The boys nod along happily, “Alright, it’s settled. The plane leaves in four hours, giving you all three hours to pack. There’ll be staff members coming to stay near your villa and check in every once in a while. But Kanako,” His sudden serious tone making me gain a burst of anxiety, 

“We’ve made sure this whole trip will be as private as it could possibly be. We wanted to do this while the boys are still trainees so there’s a level of anonymity. And now that fans and reporters have stopped harassing us, we can leave peacefully. From the back of the building, that is.”

I nod, “I-I trust you.” I think. 

MARCH 7TH, 2012, 9:15AM

The boys and I have all scattered to our dorms to begin packing, Jungkook frantically barging in my dorm with a worried look plastered on his face. “You have my red jacket!” He cries. 

I tilt my head with innocence, “No I don’t.” I reply simply. This is a lie. But I just love the way it looks on me. “Liar!” He exclaims before running to my closet, rummaging through my belongings. I try grabbing him but he’s too driven to find what he’s looking for. After destroying my closet and drawers, he turns around in defeat. “Where is it?”

“I don’t kno-”

“Kanako please! We don’t have much time!” He pleads.

I sigh, standing there for a second more before reaching into my suitcase, grabbing the thin red piece of clothing he was dying for. He takes a breath of relief before kissing my cheek and running back to his dorm. I place my hand on my hip to assess the damage that my room is in. I’ll clean it up when I get back from the trip, I think to myself. I’ve always been one for procrastination, delaying, flaking. It’s a horrible habit I’m trying to cut back, but one thing at a time, right? 

I finish packing my toiletries, makeup, and other small accessories I might want to bring. I’ve been living in sweatpants and hoodies from different members of the group so I try bringing clothes that might look..cute? Since the flight is a little over an hour I decide to bend down on the floor to find something decent to wear. You’d think from being an idol for two years I’d know how to properly dress myself, but I don’t. 

As I sort through the pile of clothing, I hear someone come in. It’s Jihyo, a staff member who works here. She closes the door behind her quickly, holding a big rectangular box in her arms. 

“Oh you got it, thank you!” I gasp happily as she hands me the box. It’s heavier than I thought, my body plummeting down from the weight of it. She laughs and helps me place it on my bed. 

I can see her face cringe, “I really hope it’s the one you asked for.” She says. 

My eyes lighten up as I graze my hand over it. It’s Yoongi’s birthday gift, a new keyboard. It definitely left a hole in my pocket, but for him, I wanted to get him something that would last forever. 

I nod eagerly, glancing at her then back to the keyboard. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I wanted, thank you.” 

She says a quick no problem before I give her a hug, letting her escape back to her job. I hunt through my things, looking for anything I could to make the keyboard look less naked. I look at my shoes, the ones I wore for my debut. They’re ballerina-inspired with ribbon lacing to tie up your calf. I suck in my teeth and grab a pair of scissors, cutting them. It doesn’t hurt that much to damage them, but it was a vital memory walking around in them. The memories I made performing with them, the pain-staking wounds I’d get on the back of my ankle after the shows ended. But it’s for a good cause.

I grab a box-cutter to open the packaging first, the heaviness of the object making it much harder to do this as fast as I could. I place it back on my bed and the stand it comes with. 

I wrap the ribbon along the height of the keyboard, tying it in a nice bow. I pat it down to make sure it looks nice and pretty before snaking my way to Yoongi’s dorm. The hyung line is all packing, Hoseok still deciding on the clothes to bring. He’s very picky with his style, and since it’s a vacation, he seems to be overthinking. “You know we’re not gonna be around anyone else.” I laugh at him playfully, which he responds with a serious expression. 

“I don’t wanna hear any of that. Look, this tank top or this one?”

He told up two black tank tops. But one does have thicker material and looks like it would fit him better, “The right one.”

“My right or yours?”

He takes my unamusement as an answer. I search through the dorm and end up in the bathroom where Namjoon is, packing all his toiletries. “Where’s Yoongi?” I ask, he shrugs. Very helpful, thank you. I give up eventually with this dorm, speed-walking to the other where the young ones are. It’s the same scene, giving me deja vu. Except Jimin is the one on the floor, indecisive. 

I sigh, “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Bathroom. Said Namjoon was taking too long.”

“What, is he peeing or something?”

“Dunno.”

Sometimes they aggravate me. Just like brothers. I walk to the bathroom where it’s open and see Yoongi fixing his hair. “What’re you doing?” He jumps from the sound of my voice. 

“J-Just-”

“Checking yourself out? You couldn’t wait for Namjoon to be done so you could fix your hair?” I giggle. 

He huffs and stops from moving, coming closer to me. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss me, placing his hands on my shoulders. He’s confident with this one, much like the others. I move my head towards his, filling the empty space between our bodies. 

“Can you guys please stop making out? We’re gonna be late.” Jungkook whines from behind us, making Yoongi and I part. I nod and nod, knowing we were in a time crunch then and now. 

“I know people! Give me some time. Yoongi, get over here.” I say, gesturing for him to follow me. I place my hands to my side, causing Yoongi to scoop up one with his own. We walk to my dorm and before I open the door I turn to him. “Close your eyes.” I say. He widens his eyes, “What’re you gonna do to me?” He smirks. I puff my lips, “Shut up.”

“Okay, okay.” He says and finally closes his eyes. I open my door and lead him by his hand to my bed. I wait a moment to look at him as his eyes are closed, wanting to savor this moment. I take a deep breath,

“You can look now.” I whisper. 

He’s quick to look at me first, which makes me dart me eyes to my bed, giving him a hint. He looks down slowly, seeing the keyboard laying on my bed. He doesn’t say anything at first, only staring. He’s great at making it hard for me to read him. He places his hand on the keys, almost unbelieving that it’s real. 

“Kanako…” he breathes. 

My lips curl into a delicate smile, “Yes?”

“This is…” He trails off.

I place my hands behind my back and lean on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “This is for you.”

He shakes his head softly, “I don’t know what to say. This must’ve cost a fortune.” 

“You’re worth a fortune. I wanted you to be able to have this for a long time. Whenever you need it. Whenever inspiration strikes you next. When you go on tour and you just need to play.” I reply. He moves his hand to the bow, furrowing his brows. 

“I recognize this.” He says.

“It’s just some ribbon I had lying around.” I lie. 

He hums and unties it. I stare at his airy fingers as they move, pulling on the bottom to unravel it. He picks up the bow and looks at me. “What?” I ask with bright eyes, hoping he doesn’t notice the frayed edges. “Put it on.” He asks. 

“W-What? Like, where?”

“In your hair.” He speaks like I should know what he’s talking about. 

O-Oh, I mutter. Dirty mind Kanako. I place it on my head, adjusting my hair so the knot doesn’t get tangled. It’s very hard to do this without a mirror. I tighten it around my hair and pull out some strands in the front of my face, running my hands through my hair and looking at Yoongi with curiosity. 

“Does it look okay?”

Instead of responding he leans in for a melting kiss, placing his hands around my neck. He moves his body so I can follow him, eventually both sitting on our knees on the floor. We stay like this for a good second before he moves me once again, now being on top of me. Both of his legs lay beside each of my thighs.  

The position is intimate and close, and I have a feeling in my stomach that’s burning down to my underwear. I notice his hips moving slightly, causing more friction between us. The bulge of his sweatpants grows onto my stomach, causing a sharp groan from him. It’s like he’s needy, the way he’s riding on me. There’s no control from his side. No pulling on me or tugging me where he’d like me to be. He lets me enjoy his deprivation, and I do. A lot. I touch his stomach from underneath, rubbing up and down his chest. 

Our heads bob as the kissing becomes more messy and heated. There’s this sensual fighting between the both of our bodies, like it’s been ages since we’ve loved one another like this. The ringing in my ears becomes stagnant as Yoongi speaks, exhausted but determined. 

“I don’t think I can handle not feeling you.” He says. His cheeks are flushed and red. I spot his forehead glistening ever so slightly. 

I take off my shirt in one swift move, revealing my lack of undergarments. The way he looks down to my breasts is one I keep in my back pocket. His hands start on my stomach, pressing down gently so I feel every crease and bump of his fingers. I lean my head back and moan quietly, the purlices of both his hands lining perfectly with my chest. His pointer finger swipes over my nipple, making me flinch with pleasure. He drifts his hand to my mouth, dipping his index fingers in my mouth before sliding them down to smear my own saliva on my breasts.

It’s slick and slow, but it’s not teasing. It’s perfect and intimate. He lowers his body to become face to face with my chest, looking up to me as his mouth hovers over my nipple. 

“This okay?” He whispers. I bite my lip and nod. He flicks his tongue on the sensitive, hard skin. I whimper in response as he proceeds to take me in his mouth. He sucks gently, his warm tongue doing this thing that I’m not sure I can explain with words. All I know is that my eyes are focused on him, watching him practically eat me alive. He laps up my nipple faster and I notice the saliva from his mouth is endless, dripping down his chin. He’s not afraid to make this so erotic and utterly filthy. I can’t stop my hands from grazing down to his opened legs, caressing his bulge. He sucks in his teeth, which I love that he does that, and places his forehead down on my chest. It seems I’ve broken him down with that small motion which gets me excited to continue more. I bring my other hand to fiddle with his zipper, teasing him.

“Are we really doing this?” He whispers while his head lays in between my breasts.

“What exactly do you think this is?” I tease. 

“Only what you want.” He responds. 

I take that as a go to unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down. Everything is so fast and progressing quickly, but I choose to follow it. Don't overthink it. It’s good right now. 

He takes his head from my chest and goes back to sitting up, setting his hands down on the floor to balance himself. I prop my body up as I play with the waistband of his boxers that peek from the opening of his pants. He shakes his head with a modest smile, “Baby, baby, baby.” He mumbles. 

As I proceed to travel my hand below his boxers, there’s a storming pile of men that barge in through the door. And I’m topless, with my hands down Yoongi’s boxers. 

It’s Jungkook, Namjoon, and Hoseok. Everyone is frozen in place. I look at Yoongi who looks at them, then at me and my current situation. Uh..uh-uh, he says as he hurries as he grabs my shirt to drape it over my chest quickly. “Kanako…” He mumbles and looks at his underwear, my hand still remaining at the crime scene. I remove it and we detach ourselves from each other, awkwardly. All I can do is wrap the shirt around my body and completely flush. Yoongi’s pants are still unbuttoned, which he doesn’t seem to notice.

“O-Oh. We- um. We just need to-” Jungkook stutters.

“We need to get going.” Namjoon states. 

I gulp and nod, “Yes, right.” They stand there for a little while longer. I wait for them to leave so I can put on my shirt, but they don’t seem to be moving. “C-Can you guys-” I mutter.

Oh yeah, of course, right. They all say and shuffle out the door. I’ve never heard such a deafening silence as they leave, shutting the door behind them. I drop my shirt and tuck my head between my legs, sighing heavily. 

“Oh my god.” 

“I know.”

“Oh my god.”

Yoongi crawls over to me and tilts my head up, giving me an empathetic pout. “I know.” He says again. 

“They saw my boobs, Yoongi!” I whine. 

“I know! It was awful, I’m sorry.” 

I puff my lips with a bit of attitude, “You should be! It’s not like they saw anything of yours that they haven’t already seen.” He caresses my face, comforting me. 

“They’ll get over it soon, I promise.”

MARCH 7TH, 2012, 2:57PM

The car ride to the airport was awkward. The plane ride was awkward. The car ride to our villa was even more awkward. It seems the boys can’t even look at me, and when they do, it’s not at my face. The outfit I decided on was just a simple mid-thigh dress with black tights! It’s not like my cleavage is even out, but it feels like they almost have x-ray vision. I assume the ones who saw me topless told the others because like I said, none of them can look at me. 

It isn’t until we’re sitting inside this amazing villa and I still see them being so painfully quiet that I get frustrated. 

I sit up aggressively from the couch we’re all resting at, “Okay everyone, they’re just boobs. Don’t act like you’ve never seen any before. That is unless I’m sitting with a bunch of virgins.” I speak, my frustration very obvious with my choice of words. It’s unlike me to speak this way, but how they’re acting is stupid and unfair. Jungkook shuffles uncomfortably, “It wasn’t just that.”

I roll my eyes, “Me and Yoongi, we’re…we’re just doing stuff! Like normal people do.”

“Like couples do?” Namjoon says, raising his head from his phone. I freeze up. I didn’t want that label yet, but it gets my point across so to hell with it. 

“Y-Yeah, it’s normal. So can everyone get over it?” I sit back down, only to get up once again. 

“And start knocking before you enter a room, please!” I exclaim, plopping down on the couch finally. The boys all mumble to themselves before coming to agreement. “You’re right Kanako, we’re sorry. That was a private moment and we shouldn’t have treated you differently…because of it.” Namjoon puts down his phone as he speaks, giving me his full attention. 

I nod, satisfied. “Thank you.” Yoongi, who sits next to me, gives me a reassuring squeeze on my thigh. 

The door bursts open, contradicting what I just asked, but sure. Incomes Jihyo, the staff member who assisted me with Yoongi’s present, with two bags in her hands. She pulls down her mask, breathing heavily. Might I add she’s always very eager to please. You didn’t hear it from me, but I see her ogling Seokjin often. 

 “I-Is this what you all wanted?” She asks, pulling out a bottle of alcohol. 

click here to read more of this story!

[rainmustfallts4]

Challenge ◇ Tiger’s Guide to Losing your Mind Part 44

⊶⊰Information & Index⊱⊷⊶⊰Part 1⊱⊷⊶⊰Chronological⊱⊷

───────────────────────────────────────

Hilda invited over the twins over because she wanted to spend time with them. They’re toddlers now! Now, I’m no parent but sending two toddlers off on their own to see their skeleton mother doesn’t seem like the smartest idea. How did they even get a phone?

So, uh… this happened lmao I can’t remember if I was using a spell or drinking a potion but it kinda backfired and turned me into a ghostie. Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. It is cool, though.

“Vlad, I command you to come back to life! Hear my call, follow my voice! If you don’t, I will haunt you with garlic in the afterlife!”

Hehe, got ’em.

We did overload from this but… we’re kinda already a ghost so I think it’s fine lol

“You know, I hated you at first, Tiger.”

“…”

“You may have lured me to my death surrounded by week old pizza and broken furniture, but you have righted your wrong and unleashed me back upon this world. You did well, my child.”

“…I already regret this decision.”

Oh come on. I know it was on the wheel but damn, I already have a bunch of kids. Go away.

Hopefully I can find someone cool. It took a while for anyone to appear, though. I mean, come on, we live near the beach. Where is everyone?

Oh, I see someone! Who is it –

Oh hell nah.

I don’t want to have a child with this guy ;_;) *sigh Fine. I won’t cheat and pretend I saw someone else first.

IT WAS TWINS WTF

That’s 6 kids we have now ;_;) And two sets of twins! Is this the 100 baby challenge??

[courtney-deserved-better]

my fair lady: part thirteen - a gwourtney choose your own adventure!

(part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve) (read on ao3)

i'm pretty sure that this is going to be the second to last chapter of my fair lady, which means it's the last chapter you can vote on! so go check it out!

Heather.

Courtney has to vote for Heather. It’s what she and Gwen originally agreed upon, and she can’t let Gwen down. They can always eliminate Alejandro next, with Noah’s help, and as for the information Alejandro holds over Courtney… well, if push comes to shove, Courtney can deny that she has feelings for Gwen.

She totally does, though.

Resolutely, Courtney stamps Heather’s passport.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

Having been the first one to vote—for Heather, of course—Gwen makes her way to the elimination room on her own.

Which leads to her bumping into Duncan.

“Oh, hey,” Gwen says, suddenly aware of how very empty the hallway is. “I’d say glad to have you back, but…”

“…neither of us want to be here?”

“You got that right.”

Duncan sighs. “Yeah, Chris says I have to keep playing the game, that it’s in the contract or something. He could be lying outta his ass, but honestly, I don’t have energy or the knowledge to look through that whole thing and see for myself if that’s true.”

“You could always ask Courtney for help.”

“Yeah, right, like she’d do that for me. Pretty sure we’re over.”

“She said as much to me,” Gwen replies. “Actually, speaking of that…”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“No, I don’t have a thing for you despite everyone else thinking differently, so don’t ask if we can start dating now.”

“What?”

“Is that… not what you were going to ask?”

Gwen leans over and flicks his ear. “No! Egotistical much?”

“Nah, I just figured that since the world seems to think we like each other…” Duncan shrugs. “Sorry. Should’ve known you’d be cooler than that.”

“Damn right.”

“So what were you actually gonna ask me?”

“Uh, right… it’s kind of like… a bro code question?”

“Interesting.”

“So like, if someone wanted to date Courtney now that you two are broken up for good, would you immediately hate them?”

“Nah, I’d wish ‘em good luck and remind ‘em to wear a cup.”

“I’m serious, Duncan.”

“So am I!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. I’m over Courtney, she can date whoever she wants. I really don’t care.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“But who’s even interested?” Duncan asks. “Owen’s scared of her, Cody’s always had a thing for you, Noah’s… you know, and—Alejandro? Wait, Alejandro wants to date Courtney?”

“Um—”

“I don’t know the guy super well, but honestly, that would make sense. They’re both high achievers and stuff. I bet her parents would love him.”

“Actually—”

“Yeah I could really see them together—”

“Alejandro doesn’t want to date Courtney, I do!” Gwen blurts out.

She immediately claps her hands over her mouth.

Duncan raises his eyebrow. “Well I can’t say I was expecting that.”

“…Surprise?”

“You’re being serious.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Huh.” Duncan rubs the back of his neck. “Wow. Okay. I—honestly I can’t see that working out, like, at all, but you’d still be my friend if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Thanks, I think,” Gwen says, cheeks still flaming red. “And, I dunno. We’ve been getting along really well recently. I think we might have a chance.”

“If you think so, then go for it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, things were shitty for most of the time I dated her, but Courtney and I had some awesome moments too. If you wanna give it a shot…”

“Duncan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Duncan grins and punches her arm lightly. “Hey, I’d like to think I’m a better friend than boyfriend.”

“You are,” Gwen says. “And now that you’re back, we should totally prank Chris and Chef.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make them regret letting me back on this show.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Eventually, Noah comes trudging down the hallway, and Gwen and Duncan part ways with a silent nod. Soon, all of the new Team Amazon is sitting on the benches in the elimination room.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you ladies in this room,” Chris says, nodding to Gwen, Courtney, and Heather. “Boys… wait, has Team Victory been the only team to have an elimination that didn’t require a military airlift?”

“Yeah,” everyone choruses.

“Damn, that’s… poor team balancing on my part.”

Alejandro shrugs. “You have no complaints from me.”

“Or me,” Heather says, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Let’s get on with this.”

Chris claps his hands together. “Alright! Let’s see… for never being captured and probably being the most useful teammates this entire challenge, Courtney and Gwen are safe!”

The girls grin at one another as they catch the peanut bags.

“As for you three… Noah, you slowed your team down. Heather, you refused to strip the guards. Alejandro, you were a wimp about fighting an actual serial killer. Also, you all got captured… but Noah, you’re safe.”

As Noah barely manages to catch his peanuts—sports really aren’t his forte, Gwen thinks—Heather and Alejandro smirk at one another. Gwen hides her smile in her own bag of peanuts. It’s laughable how they both think the other one is guaranteed to go home.

“And the first member of Team Amazon to be eliminated is…”

Courtney shifts nervously.

“…Heather.”

“What?” Heather and Noah chorus.

Alejandro’s smirk widens. “Adios, Heather. You were a worthy competitor… while it lasted.”

“How is that possible?” Noah mutters, eyes darting around the room.

Heather jumps to her feet. “It’s not. It’s not! Recount the votes, Chris! There were supposed to be four votes against Alejandro! Me, Noah, Courtney, and…”

“Yeah, actually,” Gwen says, “Courtney and I decided we’d rather have a gentleman on our team than you.”

“But he’s evil!”

Courtney shakes her head, fighting to keep a smile off her face. “Heather, we don’t know what you’ve been talking about this whole time. Alejandro, evil? He’s the nicest guy here!”

“But you—but—augh!” Heather huffs. “Fine, I’ll leave! But I’ve got some truth bombs for all of you. Starting with a certain weird goth girl.”

Gwen’s stomach lurches.

Uh oh. She’s going to tell Courtney how I feel about her!

[izzythehutt]

for the ship thing, walt/skyler?

I regret to inform the internet at large that I did, in fact, kind of ship them. Everyone else in the fandom out there defending their right to ship Walt/Jesse and I'm over here in my weirdo corner defending Walt's unhealthy, toxic relationship with his for realsies wife.

There's never a moment in BrBa where I didn't buy their relationship and the history between them, which I think is really key to making the entire premise work. You had to really understand why after she finds out about his criminal life Skyler doesn't just turn him in and they sold me on it. It was a masterstroke to make it motivated not from fear (at least at first), but from her love of her husband, her sentimental attachment to the image of their family she wants the kids to have, and her own natural pragmatic nature.

my favorite or a defining moment

Their defining moment is the phone call in Ozymandias. I don't think anything more encapsulates their relationship than that—the fact that Walt has utterly destroyed their lives with his selfish actions but is also heartbroken over Hank's death and is completely willing to take the fall to protect her and in spite of everything they've gone through and the deterioration of their marriage and souls she knows him well enough to understand what he's really doing and lets him know she understands. Runner up is the conversation after he collapses on the bathroom floor and asks her if she's glad he's finally dying Anna Gunn's face :(

My personal favorite moments were all in late S3 early S4 when Skyler pushes herself into his criminal enterprises against his will and becomes Walt's naggy concerned mafia wife. The scene where she comes over to his condo and he tries to hide his blackeye with the door frame never fails to crack me up (I find her protectiveness of him weirdly cute.)

My favorite moment is when they're lying in bed together after the awkward (but kinda hilarious) re-consummation of their marriage and just having super banal domestic talk (Skyler pointing out she's gotten a haircut and then laughing when Walt says oh, yeah, I was definitely going to say something about it :')) and then Junior comes home and they're trying and failing to hide that they had sex from their disgusted teenage son. It's the closest the show ever got to family comedy/fluff.

whether they’re wholesome (affectionate), fucked up (affectionate), fucked up (derogatory), or boring

They veered into fucked up (derogatory) in early S5 and kind of never really left that place (though at least he finally stopped lying to her) though they did have some genuine moments of honesty in the latter half of the show.

a song I think captures their essence:

Poison and Wine by the Civil Wars

A Sister Ship

Uh Ozai/Ursa from ATLA tbh? Ursa and Skyler are both on board with murder if it means the safety of their children. Also Lord and Lady Macbeth, which I'm pretty sure Peter Gould straight up compared them to at one point. what kind of AU I’d like to stick them in

One where he doesn't kill Gus, because that's the moment where their relationship went from high-key dysfunctional and effed up in an entertaining way even though you know it's unhealthy to just...terrifying.

I've always liked the idea of AUs where Skyler somehow gets to spend time with Jesse/teams up with him, because Walt spends so much of the show trying to keep those two apart from each other lest they reveal all his weaknesses/sins, and I find the idea of them double teaming him hilarious because you know Walt would hate it. I kind of wrote that in Spin the Gun but I've thought of other iterations of that I like.

Now I'm picturing some weird AU of the end of S4 where Walt successfully gets the family to the Disappearer and when Jesse shows up too because he doesn't want to be left behind by Mr. White Walt convinces her to let him be part of their new assumed identity family.

Bonus: They aren't on my top ten list, but they were the only romantic relationship in BrBa that I actually had a strong investment in.

[polizwrites]

Promises to Keep

When Steve reminds Tony of a promise he made, Tony is oddly reluctant to follow through. It’s only with the help of Tony’s best friend that the real reason for the reluctance is brought to light. 

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing:  Steve Rogers/Tony Stark;  James “Rhodey” Rhodes & Tony Stark Tags:  Established Relationship,  Platonic Relationship,  Discovery Word Count: 453

This is a fill for today’s  @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt   #FFF173 No Rest for the Wicked, and my  @manwithaplanbingo square B5 - “I don’t really want to wake up yet”    along with the following October writing prompts:

@fictober-event   21. "I never said that."

@flufftober    21. Kiss for Good Luck

@whumptober   No. 21 “Take me instead.”

“I don’t really want to wake up just yet,” Tony murmured into his pillow.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Steve replied, brushing a kiss across Tony’s bare shoulder, “but we really need to get going. You promised you’d come along today.”

“I did?” Tony’s expression of confusion was too good to be true, so Steve called for backup.

“JARVIS, can you confirm?”

“I regret to inform you, Sir, that in fact you did indeed agree that you would accompany Captain Rogers to the children’s hospital today.”

“Ugh, fine.” Tony threw the sheet back dramatically. “No rest for the wicked, I see.”

Steve chuckled. “You were wonderfully wicked last night, sugar. Surprised I still don’t have a couple bite marks.”

“They were supposed to be kisses for good luck,” Tony replied, grabbing a robe out of the closet, “Or possibly bribes so I wouldn’t have to come along.”

“You attempted to bribe Captain America? How unpatriotic of you, Tones!” Jim teased as he joined them in the bedroom, carrying three large takeout cups of coffee. It had taken Steve a while to get used to the platonic intimacy that Tony and Jim shared; it reminded him a little too much of what he and Bucky used to have, and was hard to be around sometimes. “What did you want Steve to do, anyways?” Jim asked.

“It’s more what Tony didn’t want to do,” Steve broke in, “which is get up early and join me for a visit to the children’s hospital.”

“Uh-huh.” A look that Steve couldn’t quite translate passed between Tony and Jim. “Why don’t you take me instead, Steve? I can squeeze into one of the Iron Man armors easy enough, and with the voice modulator, the kids will never know the difference.”

“You don’t want to go see the kids, Tony?”

“I never said that,” Tony replied in a guarded tone.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Tony bit his lip and looked at Jim again, who gave him a little ‘go on’ nod. “I don’t like hospitals. Specifically, I don’t like the way they smell. It reminds me too much of...” his voice trailed off as one hand crept up to cover the scars on his chest.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve breathed, “I didn’t know -- you should have said something!”

“What was I going to say, when you asked in front of everyone?” Tony snapped, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

Steve bit back the desire to defend himself, instead taking a deep breath before replying. “I see what you mean, Tony. Jim’s offered an alternative, so I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

Tony and Jim exchanged another look. “How about we bring War Machine along,” Tony replied, “and really knock those kids’ socks off?”

[4ragon]

hiya, i saw the prompt list and I don't know if you wanted only romantic pairs (feel free to disregard this ask if it's only romantic), but I thought the last one, about making excuses to bail each other out would be interesting for young klavier and kristoph. the prompt felt really sibling-y to me :Dd think its fun to think about what it mustve been like for them growing up haha

Hmm, I mean, I had been thinking specifically romantic stuff when I reblogged it, but I’m certainly not against writing a platonic pairing! So, uh, sure!

For a few moments, all Kristoph could do was blink down at the phone in his hands. It was a simple text, all things considered.

Klavier

👋 🤏 🎉 🤚 🍺 😭 👏 🖖 👌 ✌️ 👍

“...What is this…?” he muttered to himself, all too aware of exactly what he was looking at. He pushed up his glasses for a moment, rubbing at his face with a disconcerted groan. Didn’t Klavier know he was busy? He had more important things to be doing. It certainly wasn’t his job to babysit the boy twenty-four hours a day.

It was a quiet evening. Late. Too late to be studying for the bar, perhaps, but Kristoph was nothing if not a perfectionist. Best to get started early to absorb the information. Not everyone could regurgitate every fact they’d ever learned on their first try like some snotty little brats Kristoph knew.

Speaking of…

The phone buzzed in his hands. Another string of hieroglyphics for him to interpret. Kristoph’s eyes drifted over the lot of them, debating simply turning the phone off or shattering it against the wall. Finally, he sighed, and placed the call, fingers tapping on the table irritably.

It took a few rings for anything to happen. And then—

“H-Hey bro! How’s it going?”

Klavier’s high-pitched pubescent voice crackled through the phone over the distant, muffled sounds of base-y music. He sounded nervous. Or relieved, Or both?

“I regret to inform you that our family cat has died in a terrible boating accident,” Kristoph deadpanned. “You are needed at home immediately.”

They did not own a cat. They never would own a cat. Kristoph would die before they ever owned a cat.

“Whaaaaat? Nooooooooo. Not Herr Katze!” Klavier cried, far too exaggerated to pass as any sort of genuine distress. He could almost picture the back of Klavier's hand pressed to his forehead in a pseudo-faint. “Oh no, I should…leave this study session of mine right now.”

Kristoph couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Ah, yes, your 'study session,'” he repeated, being sure to pour all his vitriol into his air quotes.

“Ja, that’s right. My…study session,” he said.

Kristoph tsked under his breath. “You understand that you are a big fish in a small pond, right, Klavier?” he asked, foot tapping on the floor. “Just because you skipped several grades doesn’t mean you have to try to impress the riff raff around you—”

“Ach, you’re breaking up!” Klavier interrupted quickly, making a few static noises with his mouth. “Well I better rush home to check on poor Mutti, she must be so heartbroken over poor Herr Katze.”

“Hmm,” Kristoph agreed. “Yes, I’m sure she will be very grateful, and owe her wonderful son quite the favor in the future, wouldn’t you say—?”

“Ja, ja, whatever you say, Kris.” He could almost picture the cheeky smile, braces and all, grinning back at him. “I’ll talk to you later. Danke!”

“Bitte,” Kristoph muttered back, hanging up before Klavier could say another word.

He scowled at the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, there went all of Kristoph’s concentration for the evening. Nothing left but to try to get a decent night’s sleep before class tomorrow.

As he pushed away from his desk to stand up, his phone vibrated once more. He paused, glancing down at the phone still on his desk.

Klavier

👏 ❤️

Kristoph raised an eyebrow, before sighing, shaking his head with a bemused smirk, and finally shutting off his phone.

(Anyway I'm still willing to do a few more prompts if anyone is interested, hmu)

[theminecraftbee]

Grian wakes up, and a pinata falls on his head. He screams, flaps his wings, and falls off of his bed.

“HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!” shout several people from in his base.

“What?” says Grian, very eloquently. He blinks as he tries to recover from the concussion the pinata probably gave him. Anniversary. Anniversary. He’s dizzy and tired and baffled, so it takes him a long time to try to dig up...

“Wasn’t that, uh, a week ago? I distinctly remember eating so much cake that I blacked out like, a week ago.”

“You ate how much cake?” someone asks.

“Dude,” says someone else.

“Look, no one told me Cub was such a good - why did you drop a heavy object on my head?” He blinks a few more times, and finally manages to look straight. Several other people are crammed into his base. Scar’s in front, but there’s Tango, and Bdubs, and Cleo - Cleo? They barely talk - and Ren, and Impulse, and... what appears to be a broom painted to look like Etho?

“Well, it was supposed to set off the confetti and glitter,” Ren says, “but it didn’t work.”

“What?” Grian says. He thinks he sounds like a broken record.

“We realized we never gave you a prize for Third Life,” Scar says cheerfully. “Since it’s been a whole year now, we figured we could do it now! Give you all the prizes you deserve.”

“By dropping a pinata on my head?” Grian asks.

“Oh, that was my idea! Oh, uh, the pinata, I mean.” Impulse says, and if Grian hadn’t based with him for a season, he might not have caught the fact that while Ren had apparently just meant to glitter-bomb him, Impulse had clearly actually intended to drop the pinata on him.

Something like dread settles in Grian’s heart.

“How many of you came up with prizes for me,” he asks.

“All of us,” Cleo says. “Have fun today!”

“I regret ever doing Third Life,” Grian informs everyone who’s in his base. “Except for the fact that you’re all awful and I’m glad I killed you.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have!” Scar says, beaming, and Grian can’t help it. He laughs. Maybe it’s the concussion talking.

“Sure, why not. Prize day. Happy anniversary. Hit me.”

“Right away, dude.”

Ren hits a button and his base is immediately coated in confetti and glitter. It’s vaguely blood-colored. It coats every surface, including everyone standing inside, evenly.

“HEY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WAIT FOR US TO LEAVE,” Bdubs says, rounding on Ren, and then Grian starts cackling hysterically, even as he almost chokes on the glitter. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and as the others flee his base to do their own pranks, he doesn’t stop laughing.

(It isn’t until much later, at least one rain of chicken eggs, fourteen donkeys somehow ending up in the Entity, a noise machine, a very failed prank call from Jimmy, a much more successful prank call from Martyn, and a disturbingly normal lunch with Scar that Grian realizes that, with everything else happening today, he has yet to have the chance to feel any of his horribly confused emotions about the fact it’s been a year at all. He’s mostly just been laughing. He’d have to imagine everyone else hasn’t had time, either - they’ve been too busy trying to, er, reward him. It almost seems intentional, though it’d be beyond him to say who would set something like this up.

Then again, he did start the day with something being dropped on his head. Maybe it’s only that.)