#(as a filing tag and in the hopes a particular anon will see this)

[dandelion-wings]

[sleepinglionhearts]

We know your Niles!Kana eats trash but an important question does Keaton!Kana eat even MORE trash??

honestly? i have two answers for you:

or, alternately, 

[benedictscanvas]

dizziness - aaron hotchner x reader

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mention of serial killers and what they entail, appendicitis

A/N: Another one for my man Hotch! Thanks so much for requesting anon. Pretty sure a lot of us just love reading similar protective Hotch fics over and over...I know I do! By the way, if anyone wishes to be tagged in these, please do drop an ask. Hope you enjoy this one :)

---

(ways to say i love you) number 44: “i’ll drive you to the hospital”

You could feel the dizziness coming again and took another deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth, even though you were being very careful to do it slowly and not alert any of the others around you to your abnormal breathing. Spencer in particular was sat right across from you around the table and you knew if he heard you he wouldn’t hesitate in asking whether or not you were okay.

Instead, you were confined to feel hellish all on your own just to avoid the overprotective instincts from your team.

This was a tough case, one where you felt as if you had been in Alabama for weeks instead of days, where each new body was mutilated beyond description and made even the toughest in your team falter when that sheet was pulled back at the crime scene. Overkill to the extreme. You, and most of the others, were getting sick of the fact that this guy held so much rage and yet still hadn’t made a single mistake that might help you catch him.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you blinked at him dumbly, cursing yourself. You’d been so focused on keeping your breathing steady so he wouldn’t notice anything was wrong that you’d spaced out, “You okay?”

“I’m alright, Reid. Just sick of this guy,” you sighed, hoping you were convincing enough for the team to continue their brainstorming session, but instead, all eyes turned to you.

“You don’t look alright, Y/L/N,” Morgan piped up, looking at you with concerned eyes and you scoffed at them all.

“Well, if I did look alright when this guy is still out there somewhere, there would be something wrong with me, Morgan,” you insisted, shooting him a pointed look. He held up his hands in surrender and turned back to the board where Hotch and Rossi were standing. You turned back to them too, now trying much harder to be alert, even though you were gripping your stomach with one hand and your seat with the other. Hotch paused a little longer, looking at you with a furrowed brow but when you just stared right back, almost challenging him to say something, he carried on.

You didn’t hear much of the discussion. Everything sounded distant, like you were all in a tunnel. Instead of trying to join in, you nodded at random intervals as if agreeing with people and tried not to close your eyes and let yourself cry out at the pain in your stomach. You felt ridiculous and weak and there was part of you trying not to cry.

Despite all that, soon you heard those familiar words that meant you could leave the room.

“I think we’re ready to give the profile.”

People began filing out, and you waited, pretending to flick through one of the files on the desk, doing a pretty convincing job even if you did say so yourself. Only once everyone had left did you stand up, feeling your body swaying on your feet. There was definitely a chance you might be sick. You held onto the table for support and closed your eyes as you tried to steady yourself.

“Y/N?”

Hotch was back in the room. You sighed.

“I’m fine, Hotch.”

“You can’t stand up,” he pointed out stoically. You hadn’t even noticed how doubled over you were. You pushed up with one hand until you were standing properly with only a tiny groan, feeling quite proud of yourself.

“There, see?”

“Walk towards me.”

His voice was hard. You knew he hated it when you did this, he’d told you so multiple times in the past. Your tendency to hide any and all pain, physical or mental, from those closest to you was one of your worst qualities in the eyes of the team, but you didn’t seem to be changing any time soon.

You glared at him, then took a couple of steps. The world spun and you faltered but he was beside you in an instant, arm around your shoulders as he helped you into a chair.

“Okay,” you said exasperatedly, “So maybe I’m a bit dizzy. But I’m fine.”

He ignored you and now you knew he was really pissed. Leaving you sat in the chair, he left the room and for just a split second you wondered whether he was really just going to leave you like this before he returned with the whole team behind him.

“Tell Reid your symptoms.”

“Hotch, this is ridiculous, would you all just leave me-”

You cut yourself off with a long, loud groan as you doubled over in the chair, the pain in your stomach flaring up suddenly. You were sweating now, not just from the pain but from the embarrassment of your entire team seeing you like this. Emily came over to you and rubbed your back soothingly which you were grateful for, even if your first instinct was to flinch away from her.

“Symptoms, Y/N.”

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, “Pain in my stomach that gets worse when I walk on it and I’m lightheaded as hell.”

Spencer kneeled down in front of you with a worried look and gestured to your stomach. You nodded, leaning back a little as he reached out and gently pressed on your lower right abdomen, rearing back again when you yelped.

“Reid!” Hotch said sharply as soon as you cried out, stepping forward to do something but Spencer was already backing away from you with mumbled apologies.

“It’s appendicitis,” he said apologetically, once he was at a safe distance from you and you couldn’t hurt him when he told you. At his confession, you let out a laugh.

“No it isn’t,” you said, shaking your head, “I’m just being dramatic, seriously, I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few hours. Maybe I should just go lie down.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Hotch said, taking the few steps over to you and joining Emily in helping you stand up. Your knees buckled only a little, but Hotch was firm beside you, and his strong arm around your waist was enough to keep you upright.

“Are you joking?” you asked incredulously, “We’re working! If I have to then I’ll drive myself to the hospital or, I don’t know, get a taxi or something but I am not interfering with this case.”

“You guys can give the profile without me, right?” Hotch asked the team, to which he only received a series of nods. You shook your head.

“Hotch, you’re the leader of this team, at least send someone else.”

He didn’t even answer you. The rest of the team murmured their well wishes and patted you gently on the back as Hotch and Emily led you out to the SUV in the parking lot outside. Emily helped you into the seat and gave your hand a quick squeeze as Hotch took his place in the driver’s seat.

Before you really knew what was happening, you were pulling out of the car park and on the road.

“It’s only a few minutes,” Hotch said quietly into the silence of the car. You were still slightly doubled over, even if you were trying to hide it and you nodded in response, “I wish you wouldn’t hide this stuff from us, Y/N.”

He sounded a little defeated and you turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the road. You looked back at your lap.

“I know,” you said softly, “I’m sorry. It’s not in my nature.”

You saw his lips quirk up in a half-smile out of the corner of your eye.

“I know, but will you try? I hate to think that you were in pain that entire time and felt you couldn’t tell any of us,” he paused but you could tell there was something else he wanted to say. You were a profiler, you could fill in the blanks. I hate to think you couldn’t tell me.

“Hotch, you know if I was going to tell anyone, I’d tell you, right?” you said with a small chuckle that you instantly regretted as you winced with pain again. He looked like he wanted to say something cocky in return but had changed his mind when he looked over and saw the state you were in.

“Just a couple minutes now, Y/N,” he said, his voice soothing as you leaned your head back on the seat, “Hold on a little longer.”

“Think I’ll just-” you drifted a little before you could finish your sentence, “Take a lil�� nap…”

You heard Hotch say your name a few more times, along with some other words you didn’t quite listen to, but the pain was getting too unbearable, so you closed your eyes and let yourself drift away.

---

“Did it burst?” you asked groggily as you woke up, not opening your eyes yet because it was just too bright. You didn’t really know if there was anyone with you, but you were really hoping Hotch was sat in the chair beside your bed, because you’d be disappointed to wake up to anyone else.

“No,” came the voice you so desperately wanted to hear, a little gravelly like maybe he’d not slept in a while, “It didn’t. But we got here just in time. Surgery went well.”

“So I’m appendix-less now?” you asked jokingly and heard him chuckle beside you.

“You are,” he said, “And we’re also case-less. They caught the guy, finally. Soon as you’re up and about we can go home.”

“Oh thank god,” you groaned happily, finally opening your eyes and blinking a few times before you focused in on Hotch’s face. He definitely hadn’t slept, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he gave a rare smile, one that you couldn’t help but return in full force, “How do you feel?”

“Groggy, but fine,” you said honestly, “Thanks for driving me. Don’t know what I’d do without you, sometimes.”

He looked a little taken aback by your little admission, but he recovered himself quickly, putting it down to whatever pain medication you must have been on.

“Only sometimes?” he asked teasingly and you laughed, even though it hurt like hell. You winced, wondering how long it would be until you could laugh freely again, when you felt a hand on your head, stroking a bit of hair out of your face, “Take it easy.”

His voice was soft, and his hand was soft too. When he began to retract it again, you panicked and reached out to grab his hand before it could get too far, bringing it back to rest on your face. Your own hand rested on top of his as you leaned against it, sighing happily, closing your eyes for just a second before you knew he would inevitably pull his hand away. He did so a moment later.

“I’m sorry-”

“We can’t, Y/N, it’s-”

You spoke at the same time, stopping each other mid-sentence. Hotch finished his sentence first.

“It’s not professional.”

“I know,” you said, frustrated, but not with him, “But our friendship in the first place isn’t professional. The amount of time I spend with you and Jack isn’t professional. The way I feel-”

You trailed off before you ruined everything when you saw the look in his eye. It was his turn to fill in the blank, and you knew he had. The way I feel about you isn’t professional.

“Y/N, we shouldn’t.”

You nodded sadly, trying to keep the tears that were threatening to appear at bay. You would not cry over this right now. You’d cry later, over a tub of ice cream in your tiny little apartment when you were back to being all alone again. Obviously.

“Aaron,” you breathed, wanting to say something else but getting stuck on looking at him, with those sad eyes and the face that didn’t give anything away.

Suddenly, without warning, he was surging forward out of his chair and his lips were on yours. It only took you a shocked second before you responded, pushing back against him and winding a hand into his hair, the other resting uselessly on his chest. You could tell he was being gentle with you, holding back, trying not to hurt you, and the warmth in your chest only grew at the thought. With one last chaste kiss, he pulled away, his hands retracting from your face again as he sat back down in his chair, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Even when he sat down, he didn’t pull away too far, grabbing your hand in his on the bed and holding it tight. You looked at your joined hands then back to him.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you whispered, not wanting to disrupt whatever air was between you, “But I thought that was off the table.”

“It was,” he admitted, rubbing his neck, “But then you called me Aaron.”

Your eyes widened before a smirk settled itself on your face. You leaned over towards him on the bed as far as you could and lowered your voice even further.

“Glad you changed your mind-” you licked your lips, “-Aaron.”

His lips were back on yours before you could process his movements and, despite the pain in your stomach as you leaned up to kiss him deeper than before, you decided that you’d take any pain you had to if it meant he would kiss you just a little longer.

[merlinfic]

group ask for lost fics #32

Hi y’all! Below are a few lost fics that us mods just can’t seem to find. That being said, we’re hoping that you lovely followers are able to help! If anyone knows any of the fics below please reply below or send in an ask with which anon/user and group ask that the fic corresponds with!

Note: previous group asks and all lost fics!

Anon 1 asked:

Hello! First of all thanks so much for everything you do for the fandom! Also, I’ve been trying to find a fic for a while where Merlin and Arthur are both super into each other and Arthur keeps trying to seduce Merlin but Merlin thinks he has to remain pure until the dragon tells him that’s not the case w Arthur and I was wondering if you could help! Thanks so much 💖🥰

Thanks to statistical-nightmare for suggesting Touch Me (Not) by veronamay!

@ohmytimeturner14 asked:

Hey! I'm kinda getting back into the merlin fandom and I was looking for a fic I once read and can't find it. It's a sick fic where merlin gets sick with pneumonia I believe. Can't remember how long it is, at least 3k and most likely under 20k? I think part of it had Morgana offer to read to Merlin when he was sick? I think it was Merthur but I couldn't swear to it. Love your blog, Keep up the good work!!!

Hey! I love your blog. You always do such an awesome job.

I lost a fic, its at least 5K probably leaning twords 20 though. It involves Merlin getting sick, I think pneumonia. I remember that at one point Morgana reads him a book when he's sick, and Arthur almost leaves to get Hunith because he thought Merlin wouldn't make it. May have something to do with a formalwear tunic that made him cold and got sick, but that might be a different one. I also think he was going to go to a party of Gwen's before he got sick?? sorry if this is kinda vague

Thanks to fractalinferno for sending in Midwinter Festival by Miss_Em!

Anon 2 asked:

hello!! yay the ask box is open again!! 🥺 I’ve been going through the asks for a quartermaster/007 thing but I can’t find this particular fic where Merlin was Q, and closer to the end of the fic he gets kidnapped on a train (to be specific.) It’s slash, but not pre-established, happens during the fic. Arthur bursts into Merlin’s apartment and manages to have flashback about the laptop’s password or smth too! Thanks in advance!

Thanks to wiggly-jiggly-higgledy-piggledy and overworked-bookworm for suggesting You Only Live Twice by storyforsomeone (WIP)!

Anon 3 asked:

Hello! I was wondering if you'd be able to help me find a fic. The only thing I remember from it is that both Arthur and Merlin are in the crystal caves and Merlin sees Arthur's death through one of them and completely freaks out and comfort ensues with Arthur. Sorry it's so vague but I'd love to see if you can find it! Thanks again!

@eyra-j-nee asked:

Hi!! I’m looking for a fic that was on ao3, (TW: non con) in it Merlin was assaulted in the stables and he called I think both killgarah and aithusa come and won’t let anyone pass into the stables except gaius and eventually Lancelot. Arthur figures out it’s Merlin and I can’t remember what happens after that. I’ve looked through your hurt and abused Merlin tags and I didn’t see it. I can say it’s not “all of himself” by StormDancer but they are very similar! Any and all help would be appreciated. As always THANK YOU for what you do, this blog and your hard work is a godsend!!

Thanks to fangirl485 for sending in The Fire of a Dragon by ma_r (check warnings!)

Anon 4 asked:

hi I am looking for a fic, it's post canon au and magic is legal, arthur & gwen aren't married though and all the people of Camelot are used to see Arthur and Merlin together or near each other and one time they don't, so they ask merlin who tells them that the king is on holiday today so they come to merlin with their problems and even after the holiday is over they still come to him and start calling him lord and Arthur is very amused and they get together at the end of the fic

honestly I'm a little annoyed that I remember this much but not the name of fic but I can't find it in my bookmarks, so thanks

Thanks to onceandfuturekid for suggesting King of My Heart by illiterateowl!

Anon 5 asked:

hello! i was wondering if you know about this one fic where merlin receives a purple tunic as a reluctant gift from arthur and he worries about it because it's the colour of royalty. i think it was gen? i can't really seem to find it and this is very vague, so im sorry. thank you for all you do!! <3

Anon 6 asked:

Hi I’ve been looking everywhere for one particular fic. It’s pretty dark and modern au. Merlin is immortal, has lost his memories, not thinking clearly, and is suicidal. Arthur is reincarnated and has the urge to kill. They somehow? come to an arrangement, and Arthur “consensually” kills Merlin, and then is filled with regret. But it kind of “resets” Merlin so when he comes back his memories are restored and he’s ok again? Any ideas??

onceandfuturekid asked:

hi I'm looking for a fic where there's a new servant master (?) who is harming servants so arthur disguises himself and pretends to be servant and merlin & gwen take him under his wing,,, also the servant master (?) was a druid I think or atleast banished from them and was looking for power of emrys

Thanks to atlantablack-chaotic and avery28 for sending in The Serving of Servants by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle!

Anon 7 asked:

Hi! I've been looking for this but can't seem to find it and I would greatly appreciate it if you guys could help me. It's a genderbend!Merlin. The story basically follows canon with Merlin becoming Arthur's manservant just that on top of magic she has to hide the fact that she's a woman and when things go "further" Arthur thinks he's forcing himself on Merlin, since he can't "feel his desire". Thank you do much for your help! ❤

Anon 8 asked:

Hi, I've been trying to refind this fic for a while but I'm having trouble finding it. I can't remember much of it which makes it difficult, but I just remember that Merlin gives Arthur a gift, which I think is a ring, and he finds out Merlin had magic and questions whether Merlin enchanted it against him. It's in the canon era where Merlin is his servant.

Thanks to fractalinferno for sending in A Little Roughing Around Never Hurt Anyone by melennui!

@emritz86 asked:

Hi, it's been a while I asked smthng. Caught up with work and stuff. I read a fic where Merlin was a doc and married to Arthur but Arthur didn't like Merlin at first and didn't even let him enter to their bedroom. Later he realised how awesome Merlin was and tried to reconcile but Merlin already thought about filing divorce. Do not remember the name but I'm certain I read it and saved it somewhere. Anything similar would be great too. Thanks.

Anon 9 asked:

Hey! I was wondering if you could find a fic for me where everyone thinks Arthur is dead and then Merlin goes to look for him but the knights are like he’s dead and Merlin says something like “half my soul resides in him. I would feel his death like a wound” ps this blog is literally my life

Anon 10 asked:

I'm looking for 2 kind of similar stories. The first is a canon au where Merlin is actually a dog that Arthur finds in the woods. I remember toward the end they both get injured and Arthur is frantic when he wakes up. Asking Gaius where his dog is.

The second is modern au where Merlin is blind and Arthur is reincarnated as his seeing eye dog. I don't remember much more than that, sorry. Thank you for all the work you out into the fandom. MUCH MUCH appreciated!

Thanks to fractalinferno for suggesting Familiar To You, Strange To Me by TheYaoiChick for the first part!

@gaylord1027 asked:

Hi,

Do you know of a fic where Merlin was raised by Balinor in the cave after Hunith died and Merlin has some for of mental affliction. It starts with Arthur coming to them for help and then he wants to protect Merlin. Nimueh is in it and she befriended Merlin and died when Balinor lived to keep the balance.

Anon 11 asked:

I was wondering if you knew of the fic where Gwaine and Arthur are fighting to see who's merlin's best friend but in the end they realise it's Lancelot

Thanks to fractalinferno for suggesting Merlin's Favourite by OwlsWithFins!

[fandom-puff]

The Art of Seduction

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: //

AN: I hope you like this! I’m getting back into the swing of writing again, so hopefully my inbox will be empty soon!

Summary: mycroft has taken a particular interest to one of his agents- the seductress has managed to melt the Ice Man...

Warnings: smut smut smut and brief descriptions of serial killers

The intercom buzzed and mycroft rolled his eyes, putting his pen down. “Yes, Walker?” He asked, irritation clear in his voice.

“It’s... Ms YLN is here for you, Mr Holmes. Says it’s important,”

Mycroft sighed. “Send her in, then,” he replied, before sitting back in his chair, eyes fixed on the door. He heard the clack of your high heels from down the corridor and the firm knock on his door. “Come,” he called out, and you opened the door, slipping into the room and shutting it behind you.

“YLN, this had better be important,” he said firmly as you slinked over to his desk. He noted the slight sway of your hips, the curve of your red lips as you smirked, the long black coat that covered you to your knees, and the mischievous glint in your eyes as you set a thick file on his desk.

“We found the serial killer. It wasn’t Frosham,” you said, arching your brows at him. He had been wrong, and you relished in it.

“Oh? How so? Sit,” he gestured to the chair opposite him, but you perched on the edge of his desk instead, crossing your legs, revealing your bare shins to him.

“See... you Holmes boys are incredibly intelligent. Geniuses, even. But sometimes... knowing all the facts... tricking them into giving away details... interrogation and torture... it doesn’t work. So you call me in, and get me to play into the most basic human weakness that you lot so often forget...” you were leaning in closer and closer as your voice dropped.

Mycroft let out a shaky breath. “And what’s that, Ms YLN..?” He murmured lowly.

“Desire,” you whispered, nibbling his ear before pulling away quickly and standing across from him, a slight smirk playing on your lips. “That file contains photographic evidence, as well as ‘trophies’ from several of the victims... it seems our killer was quite fond of taking Polaroids of his victims and keeping their underwear as trophies. Kept them in the bedside drawer, managed to nab them once I’d worn the killer out. Just need them sent down to the lab and contact Bart’s morgue for dna samples from the bodies,” you began walking away. You were just at the door when mycroft called out.

“If it wasn’t Frodsham, who was it? Was it Warwick?”

“No. Frodsham’s wife,” you said, slipping out of the door.

***

It was several months before mycroft saw you again (in person at least). You were sat in 221B, locked in a staring contest with sherlock as he insisted you were wrong.

“Honestly, what sort of killer would readily admit to stashing four bodies in a storage facility to some random woman he’s just met?” Sherlock said, looking down at you.

You put your hand on your hip, fixing him with an ice cold stare. “Men will admit anything when they have a hand around their throat and a woman on his cock,” you said simply, as if it was the most normal thing someone could say. John, who had been watching with a flushed face, eyes openly raking up and down your body, quickly got up from his chair and walked out of the living room, passing mycroft. “They’ve been eyefucking eachother for the past hour. Tell your brother to go and check the bloody facility before he realises he’s a man, not a robot and jumps her,”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, stepping into the room. “Ms YLN,” he said, arching his brows. “What are you doing here? Is this case 078?” He asked.

“Yes, Mr Holmes,” you said, glancing over at him. “Only your idiot brother insists the input of a senior agent isn’t worth listening to because seduce people out of their secrets,”

Mycroft glared at sherlock for a moment. “Brother mine... apologise to Ms YLN. contact Gregory, tell him to meet you at the facility with bolt cutters,”

“You can’t seriously believe that... that... he just readily brags where the bodies are?” Sherlock insisted. “She hasn’t got the brain to do it! I bet she’s just naked under that coat and the suspect was bragging to impress her out of charging him!”

“Sherlock!” Mycroft thundered. “Get out, or I will contact Gregory myself and remove you from this case. And for your information, Ms YLN is one of our most intelligent agents and I would love to see you outwit her. Furthermore, she is one of MY agents, and I will not have you degrading her and accusing her of prostitution. Get out.”

Sherlock huffed and mumbled a small apology before storming out of the flat. “Cheers,” you smiled shyly at Mycroft. “D’you really think I’m intelligent? Most people just think I’m a whore,”

Mycroft reaches out and cupped your cheek. “You, Ms YLN, are responsible for shortening our cases by over 30%, and still rising. And if I ever hear anyone in our office call you a whore, I will personally dispose of them myself,” you smiled up at him, reaching up on your tip toes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He hummed softly and kissed you back, a hand resting on your hip as you slowly pulled away.

“Have I succeeded in seducing the ice man?” You’d murmured breathlessly.

“You have indeed, you vixen. Now, I’m curious. Are you really naked under that coat?”

You smirked devilishly up at him. “Not entirely,”

***

“Mr Holmes...” you moaned breathlessly as he pressed kisses to your neck, pushing you against the bedroom door. He smirked up at you, before tugging at the buttons on your coat. You grinned and let it fall to the floor, revealing a pair of sheer nylon stockings and a beautiful set of purple lingerie. Mycroft admired your body for a moment before grinning. “You’re the first person to see this set,” you hummed as he stroked your hips.

He groaned lowly, moving to grab your arse, pressing you against his tented trousers. “I’m going to fuck you, YN,” he growled, nibbling your ear.

“Please,” you whispered. “I always think of you when I’m with men on cases... always have to stop myself moaning your name and blowing my cover...”

He smirked. “You’re not going to moan my name, dear... you’re going to scream it,” you whimpered, knees turning weak. Despite your lingerie and high heels, there was no semblance of your usual seductress persona. Your reactions to his words and his actions were genuine.

You nodded eagerly and pulled away, kicking off your shoes and hurrying to his bed. “Come on then,” you hummed, biting your lip. Mycroft smirked and began slowly undressing, before pulling you into his lap. You instantly began kissing him, nibbling his lower lip and messing up his neat hair as you rolled your hips, grinding your clothed pussy against his length, moaning softly as you felt the ridges, even through your lace knickers.

“You’re soaking,” he rasped, gripping your arse and bucking up. “I bet I wouldn’t even need to finger you, would I, sweetheart?” You moaned quietly and shook your head, letting him trail kisses all over your throat. Slowly, he nudged your knickers to the side, not having the patience for you to move away from to wriggle out of them. You moaned again, feeling the pad of his thumb rub slowly over your clit for a moment, before guiding you to sink down onto his cock. You let out a soft whine as he stretched you out, filling you to the brim with his member. You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a loud moan, but mycroft nibbled your collarbone, pinching your nipple through the cup of your bra. “Don’t you dare muffle any noises, dear. I want to hear them all,”

You whimpered and nodded, starting to rock your hips slowly, grinding your hips and gripping onto his shoulders for leverage, moans and whines tumbling from your lips as he tugged the cups of your bra down and pinched and twisted and rubbed your nipples, groaning into your neck. You began bouncing your hips slowly, eyes rolling back as you moved on his length, the wet sounds of your coupling filling the room. Mycroft grunted and captured your lips in a kiss, before grabbing onto your hips. He began guiding you, bouncing you much harder on him, relishing in the gasps and loud cries that escaped your mouth. Shamelessly, you called his name, your voice hitching as you felt yourself drawing nearer to the edge.

“That’s right,” he groaned, his grip tightening, actions becoming sloppy as his thighs tensed beneath you. “Come for me, darling, let go. Scream for me,” the low rumble of his voice was enough to topple you over the edge. You moaned it name out loud, tipping your head back as he rubbed his thumb over your clit. You fell forward into his chest as you felt him fill you with his seed.

Slowly, he eased you onto your back and pulled you close to him, kissing you briefly. You smiled softly at him, rubbing his side gently. “That was... that wasn’t just a one time thing, was it, myc?” You whispered, afraid of the answer

“Do you want it to be?” You shook your head. He smiled. “Then no. It was not a one time thing,” satisfied with that answer, you nodded, snuggling into his side and wrapping your arms around him, breathing in his scent, never wanting to leave this bed or his arms.

Tag List: @diksy1112 @zodiyack @thatoneasrastan

[extremelyblackandwhite]

heiress - 2

pairing: bucky barnes x oc!reader

a/n: this is part two of a four part series based on a song lyrics sent to me by an amazing anon with a reader based on my favourite oc. hope you enjoy xx

“letters strewn across your bedroom floor. such beautiful words but you can’t remember who they’re for“

previous chapter

His memories had always been foggy. Even after slipping from HYDRA’s control, his memories were still foggy. He could remember almost everything through a sepia-like filter yet his memory as even more distorted the moment he looked at her. He had this gut wrenching feeling he had known her yet his foggy red tinted memories gave him no answer as to who this woman was and whenever he tried digging deeper into his subconscious. he would just get tired. Almost as if his own mind did not allow him to know her but he knew he must’ve seen her face or her figure somewhere and if he hadn’t then he must’ve known her in another life because whenever he looked at her, he felt comfortable. It was an odd sensation to explain, a deja-vu like feeling, a feeling which made him want to run up to her and held her into his arms but she was a stranger. Everything was strange here even Wanda who despite him having shared a few words with, looked so distant.

      - When did Wanda have time to have two ten year olds? -  Sam threw himself to one of the beds in the room the two of them had been assigned to. Sharon had gotten a different room yet Sam and Bucky were bunking together like 13 year old campers. - Also can she resuscitate people now? I mean, he’s an android but nevertheless. Oh my god, how did an android and a human had kids?

     - Do you trust them? Sharon isn’t too convinced.

     - Well, Wanda fought by our side so did Vision and Fury and Hill are with them. Unless they all turned evil, I think we can somewhat trust them. 

     - I don’t know, Sam. I ... I don’t trust the girl.

     - They’re almost all girls, cyborg brain. Be specific. Did specificity did not exist in the 40s?

     - The one who dropped her gun first.

     - Maybe, she’s Pierce’s kid or so says Sharon. Maybe you used to babysit her. 

     - No, I ...

     - Sergeant Barnes ... - Monica knocked on the door before allowing herself into the bedroom. - There were some letters in the file written by you. We believe it is not our right to intrude onto your privacy so we wanted to give them to you. 

     - God, every time I discover something about you, it makes you sound even older than you are. - Sam leaned against the bed frame as Bucky warringly took the letters from the Monica who left the room once her job was done.

The paper had grown old with time, yellowing around the borders of the Red Room envelopes they used to give the girls who behaved well enough so they could send their parents some news. He remembered stealing a few to try and write any memories which came through so he wouldn’t forget them when the officers erased him. Somehow they always found the letters yet there it was in his hands, a big stack of letters which seemingly hadn’t been destroyed. It was his handwriting that much he knew, however he did not know who Daisy was, he did not know who had the name to which the letters were addressed to. 

     - Who did you write letters to? Steve?

     - Daisy. - he didn’t mean to reply but those words just seemed to flow naturally from him and he was entranced by the name in his handwriting alone. 

The snow felt step onto the ground, it was cold, cold enough everyone was wearing jackets inside despite the heater being on and he seemed to have been transported back into his memories. Everyone was cold and covered but not her and no matter how hard he tried to make up her face, it was fogged up in his memory but he could see her, he could see her in her strap black ballet top and worn out pink ballerina shoes which she had particularly asked Madam B not to be replaced. He could see her, but he couldn’t make her out, he didn’t know who she was. 

    - Daisy, you’re going to get sick. - Bucky could hear himself speak but he wasn’t speaking, he wasn’t there, he was just reliving a memory. 

   - Don’t call me Daisy. I hate it when you call me Daisy.

   - Hey, cyborg brain? Are you ok? - Sam’s voice was echoey until he touched his shoulder and then he was harshly brought back to reality. - Don’t bug out on me, I don’t know how to reset you. 

    - Yeah, just thinking.

The night was long, too long and he spent every minute of it reading every single letter he had written this woman until they were all spread out across the floor of the room; but we loved with a love that was more than love me and my Daisy, I’m sorry Daisy, I miss you Daisy. Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. He had read that name more than a hundred times and he still couldn’t remember who she was yet he knew he loved her or that he had loved her. The more he tried to remember it, the more his head hurt, the more the blurry memories turned red. He didn’t known who this woman who had meant so much to him was. He shoved those letters under the bed and left the room while Sam was sleeping. He need to clear his head, clearly this woman hadn’t meant that much to him if he couldn’t remember her, but he knew it was a lie. He knew she mattered.

The sounds of his shoes against the floor made him forget about her, her the ghost of a woman he loved. He continued to walk, watching the walls surrounding him until a glass wall broke the continuous light blue of the walls. He peeked through it and there it was, the woman he felt he knew in a black suit on pointe. He was hypnotised by the constant plié to on pointe as if it was nothing. Bucky went around, opening the door to watch her more closely.

   - How do you do it? - he asked, taking her by surprise. Turning around, she had fear in her eyes as she took a step back, something Bucky was used to. It no longer hurt as it used to. - The feet thing. I ... my sister used to watch ballet and they always did that. 

   - Oh, uhm ... it’s all about supporting your body weight onto your toes and wearing the right pair of shoes.

   - I’m Bucky, by the way ... Uhm, thank you for not killing us. 

   - I’m Y/N. - she extended her hand to shake his. - Is the room alright? Do you need anything?

   - Do you know who Daisy is? Sharon said your father is Pierce so I thou ...

   - I don’t. - she interrupted him. - I don’t really know a lot about my father’s private life. I’m sorry.

   - You’re too early for ... - Yelena entered the room in tactical gear, stopping once she saw someone other than Y/N. Her eyes searched for Y/N’s who were begging for help. - Fight training. Closed off fight training.

   - Right, I ... I was just looking for the kitchen. - he said but was still gazing her eyes

   - I’ll take you. - the blonde Russian gave him a tight smile, pointing towards the door and exiting with him.

The air that seemed to have been previously held on her chest came out almost in a wave and she felt herself slide against the mirrored wall until she was sat on the floor, head looking at the tall ceiling as if she were in catatonic state, and maybe she was, she didn’t know. How could she know if whenever he spoke to her all she could hear was that piano, that damned low piano and the mirage of him, the mirage of the life she wanted with him in Westview. She looked at her shoes, worn out, the pink satin which one was shiny new had black worn out spots over where there used to be an embroidered daisy. She was glad it was gone, she was glad it wouldn’t return. Nevertheless, she could still feel her ... Agatha, poking at whatever protected her mind. She could almost hear her calling out to her with promises of all she wanted. They had always gone after her ... the weak link, the one whose will was easy to break. It was no mistake the red room had given her the nickname Daisy out of all flowers they could’ve picked. She was easily broken, manipulated to be a strong fighter but easily broken by those who knew. She wondered if the Red Room was still out looking for her, looking for Yelena ... she wondered what control they still held over her, what control her father had over her. Both knew she was alive, both had tortured her with tapes of ... him. They knew she was alive, it was only a cat and mouse game until they took her away. Their experiment. Their unsuccessful successful experiment. 

    - God, he’s awfully chattier than I remember. - Yelena walked into the room, eyes lowering to where she was. - Who told you to take a break? Get up and fight me. 

    - He knows.

    - Chill, Y/N. He didn’t even know what a waffle maker was until now. He’s not gonna break through whatever you made Wanda do to him which, by the way, I’m against. - the blonde sat next to her. - You let Monica hand him the letters, of course he’s gonna wonder who Daisy is. Terrible name.

   - I’m sorry, Yelena, not everyone had the pleasure of having the code name Hyacinth. -  Y/N teased.

   - It was a great code name. The best code name.

   - No, it wasn’t.

   - Want the morning off? I could spar with Monica or Alexei. - Yelena gave her a kind look and an offer she couldn’t refuse. Last thing she wanted to do was to spar with anyone in her mindset. Yelena understood it, her too having dealt with her own trauma inflicted by the Red Room. In times like these, both girls had learned to leave each other alone to cope with whatever demons they had.

Y/N dragged her knees up to her chest like a kid, hair falling in front of her eyes as she fished for the dog tags under her shirt. She ripped them from her neck, letting the old metal tags slide through her fingers. She clenched the memorabilia of past emotions against her chest. 

  - Yelena said you were gloom. - Wanda walked into the room still in her pyjamas. - Besides your shield is down and your thoughts are loud. You ought to learn to control it someday.

  - Well, you seem to love getting in people’s minds.

  - Not yours. Whenever I get the particular pleasure of doing it  ... - she sat next to her, still in her dressing gown. - You’re either feeling guilty or in such pain. I think it’s time you speak about it.

  - She’s still in my mind ... Agatha. She lingers. 

   - What does she know? She couldn’t even give you an actually accurate mirage of Bucky. Two arms? Please. 

   - She’s gonna be after us non-stop, Wanda. She will pair forces with Ross to get what she wants and then all of this will be as worthless as it was. With Zemo if she needs too ... 

   - She can’t get to you, okay? - Wanda gave her a kind smile, the type of smile she gave the twins whenever one of them was sad but this time it didn’t help. She could hear her voice calling out for her, she could see the purple tint in her nightmares and while Monica and Wanda had learned to deal with it, mostly ignoring it, she could fell the witch’s influence in her stronger than ever. 

She remained laid against the wall of the training room even after Wanda was gone. She looked at the ceiling, fingers toying around with the humidity in the air making it fall onto the ground like rain. Fitting, she thought. Yet again, whatever she could do always seemed to mirror whatever she thought or felt like. It was past midday when she made her way from the gym to her bedroom to get dressed. She knew better than to leave the hex unaccompanied but what surrounded it was wilderness and she always felt at peace in wilderness, the soft sounds of birds chirping and the water falls always made her forget the screams from the red room, the purple aura from Agatha ... it just didn’t make her forget Bucky. She had always wanted to see him again, to apologise ... to ... she didn’t know what to do, she just knew she got tongue tied whenever she saw him, the guilt eating her alive.

    - Well, hello dear. - Y/N turned around, eyes shining white behind her iris as Agatha stood there in her purple peplum dress. - There’s no need for a fight, dear. I just want to talk.

    - Well, I don’t ... - she took a fighting stance but the woman merely shrugged.

    - I just came to give you a shoulder to cry. Word on the street is that your Bucky is around. Isn’t that wonderful, dear?

    - Based on your illusion of him, I’d think you wouldn’t even recognise him. 

    - You know, you’ll always be my favourite out of the three girls. You and I are very similar, my dear. Besides, I can help you, I know how your powers work and it’s not for cheap tricks. I can help you with him, I know what it is like to have someone take the person who you love the most be taken for you but I can help you, dear. You and me, we can get what we want, what it’s rightfully yours.

     - He’s not mine. - she meant her words to come strong, swiftly like the thunderstorm winds yet they faltered, as if they were only now registering in her mind. 

     - You know, dearest ... the good thing about the soul stone is that it made you who you are. The bad thing is, you’re not gonna be able to control what it gave you if your soul is in disarray. The more your mind battles, the more your ability will take hold of you.

     - What do you mean?

     - Why do you think Wanda got more powerful when things were falling apart in Westview?

     - Y/N! - Monica’s voice made Agatha disappear in a cloud of purple mist. Y/N turned her head to the side to see Monica make her way through the trees, decked out in her fighting outfit. - What are you doing here? You missed the early morning brief and you’re in ... whatever you’re wearing.

     - I just needed some time off. - she smiled. - Why are you in battle gear?

     - Darcy’s sure one of the books must be in the Red Room ... the one where you were trained. - Monica sighed, less than happy to have to bring Y/N back to that place but if there was someone who could navigate it, it was her. - Yelena was not trained by ... him, so she does not know. Y/N, I don’t think ... I think you and him should talk. 

    - There’s nothing to talk about. - she forced a smile, following Monica back into the hex. - We are different people, besides ... I don’t think he would forgive me at all.

    - Can you at least tell me what happened? What happened with him, what happened in Westview? Wanda says you’re in pain and I don’t want you to be in pain. You helped me when I was in pain, I wanna help you too. We’ve known each other for what? Five years discounting the Thanos thing? Six?

    - I will talk about it someday. Just not today.

    - Are you in the headspace to go with us? We can always try and see what Sergeant Barnes remembers if you’re not up to it.  

    - I am a professional agent. - she smiled. - I’m always prepared.

The sooner we get this book situation sorted, the sooner she wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. At least that’s what she thought and as such she had no problem returning to the place which she had escaped from years and years ago. Nevertheless, she was first and foremost an agent, someone who fought for others and for once she had to do just that. Be professional. 

She got dressed in her traditional black tactic gear and jacket before heading down to the room where they kept most of their ammunition. It had been Jimmy’s idea to arm everyone involved in a mission just in case despite Y/N, Wanda and Monica being capable to hold their own without it. Even so, having a knife or a gun on them had made wonders before. Normally the people they go against aren’t exactly fair and she had learned that the hard way. As she opened the door to the ammunition room, she came face to face with him lacing up his boots. It was the most common action yet it felt so foreign to see him do it, to see him be in control of lacing up his own shoe laces. Part of her was happy for him, happy he was happy, happy he was his own person but the other part of her screamed for her to let it go of her insecurities, he was not the same man she had known and she was definitely not the same woman. She was guilty for more than half his pain and that, that remained the same. 

Y/N ignored him, sliding past him to grab her own utility belt which was really nothing special except for the fact she had gotten everyone important in her life to carve their initials in them. Her point was if she was dying on the field, she had least had something which reminded her of the love which regardless of every bad thing she had done, still remained. She wrapped her belt around her waist and thigh, yet nevertheless it was still too loose. Damned belt.

   - You’re putting it wrong. -  Buck mumbled.

   - Pardon?

   - The belt. - he got up and walked up to her. - The second strap ... it’s too low on your thigh, should be higher.

   - Oh ... -  she moved her gaze away from him.

   - Here. May I? - he asked her, hoping to meet her gaze but she merely nodded still looking the other way. Bucky unclasped the strap from her thigh, bringing it up further up, his knuckles brushing against the fabric of her trousers. She slowly moved her gaze to look at him and he fixed her belt before he moved up, eyes staring into hers. They seemed to look at each other for a lifetime, before he cleared his throat. - It should be better now.

    - Uhm ... thank you, Sergeant Barnes.

    - Cyborg brain, how long does it take to lace up some boots? - Sam’s voice reverberated through the room making the two take each a step back going back to the distance between them. 

    - I have to go. - Y/N grabbed her jacket, exiting the room as fast as she could.

The plane ride was equally unbearable with her sat in front of him, catching his eyes every once in a while. God, she used to love his eyes. She still remembered being tangled in grey worn out sheets, laying across his chest just looking at him, looking at those eyes which always looked the same even when he forgot her. Those blue eyes, they were always the same despite the two of them being different people from who they were in the Red Room. Speaking of the devil, it no longer looked like one. It was falling down, the once crown jewel of HYDRA had worn out with time. The red walls were fading to brown, the spotless rooms were now filled with dust and ghosts of memories. It was gone, so how come it still haunted her?

   - Wanda and Sharon will take east, me and Sam west, Alexei and Yelena south and Y/N you can take north with Sergeant Barnes. - Monica suggested. Y/N shot her a way too familiar look, almost as if she were about to argue with her yet she understood the basis of her decision. After all, not everyone had ... a something controlling power. 

She took charge into the very familiar north wing of the building. They kept most off the girls who were yet to pass to the red room there and it had been her home for years. Bucky however, was remembering things which he couldn’t fully understand. He knew this place yet he didn’t remember walking these halls, he remembered the pain. He could still feel the pain, the much too familiar pain of having all he knew be gone.

    - You’ll take the right and I the left? Sergeant Barnes? - she put her hand on his hand, almost magically taking him away from ghosts of his pain. - Do you want to stop?

    - Yeah, I’ll take the left. - he rebuffed her, turning left.

The room seemed to take him in, memories of his own strained voice as he yelled out for some mercy returned to his consciousness, memories of things he had said, things he hadn’t said. He swiftly turned around, turning his gun to the door before turning back again to see a woman standing in front of him.

    - Woah lower the gun down, dear. - she had an eerily smile on her lips. Buck took a step back slowly but she moved her hand, a purple glow followed by the sound of the door closing. - I’m only here to help.

   - Y/N ... - he tapped his intercom but no sound came from it.

   - Yes, that’s exactly who we are talking about. You see I know who Daisy is, she knows who Daisy is. - she took a file from under her shirt. - Everyone knows who Daisy is but you. Now, I think it’s really unfair you don’t know so I decided to even out the game.

She threw the file onto the ground before disappearing. God, at least back in the 40s people only removed their faces. Bucky looked around, wearingly of his surroundings much more than he was before.  This room. was playing with his mind yet the file laying on the ground proved the woman wasn’t a mere mirage of his mind. He kneeled down too grab the file, opening it to reveal a passport photo of Y/N accompanied by an information sheet. He read through the first lines quickly until one particular fact stopped him. Known aliases: Daisy.

taglist: @lookiamtrying​

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (15)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: I’m almost done!! :D This was really a trip both in the story itself and getting the chapters published. Thank you to everyone who kept staying tuned to the story even if my predicament forced me to slow down my upload frequency. If you guys enjoyed most of the story, then all the trouble I went through was worth it! :3

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 | Previous: Part 14 | Next: Part 16 | Masterlist

15 of ?

The plan's going swimmingly. Cal hasn't been caught yet.

He had sensed that Cere prayed he needn't to use his saber prior to his inevitable stand-off with you. So far, he's keeping true to that prayer. He carves a path to the nearest entrance he can find, from there, he discovers the southern exit; taking the posted Stormtroopers by surprise, he incapacitated them quickly befire they even realize what's standing in front of them.

"Cere, I'm in the building—I went through the southern entrance," Cal softly spoke through his comm.

"Copy, I found my way in the eastern wing," Cere explains that she managed to get her hands on one of the computers, splice it and fish out a lot of info. "I'm patching in the map to you, BD should've picked up the file by now."

Instinctively, BD-1 flashes the holomap in the air as soon as he received the data; it shows the locations of Cere, Cal, and their two respective destinations—the medical bay where the child is kept and the hangar where the presumed transport ship should be parked. There's a large, empty gap between where Cal stood and the hangar itself.

"I'm looking at the map now. There's a bit of distance to the hangar, it's on the upper levels too," he softly trailed off at the last word.

Cere noted the fading out of his voice, afraid that she's lost contact, "Cal?"

The boy blinked several times to return to reality. He stutters in his apology for spacing out.

"What's wrong?"

Finally, he opens up about his theory about the transport ship, he adds the lone TIE Fighter he spotted earlier and the underlying possibility that the pilot is you—not knowing that you really are. Cere considers the theory but preferred to go with the original plan; if the transport is truly a decoy, then they'll have to move fast in catching up to you before you even hop into the TIE Fighter with the child—assuming that your TIE Fighter is in a completely different hangar.

The silence of their conversation's conclusion was followed by the gloomy, ominous humming of the corridor that laid in front of Cal's eyes. The stale air that entered his lungs put a tugging weight on him, this place carries a certain degree of corruption that it's simply foreboding to anybody—most especially the Jedi. The sole thought of rescuing you is what kept Cal going; he stalked through the corridor, feeling for any activity in the intersections before going around the next corner.

Eventually, he's halfway into his destination but it seems Cere still hasn't put her diversion in motion. 

Cal peeks over the corner to find a cluster of Stormtroopers—a mix of regulars and scouts—in his path. Two scouts block the path midway while the rest of them stay by the door at the end. He hugs the wall, tugs the saber off of his belt, he stares at the weapons around his clammy fingers; after one deep breath, he bolted out of nowhere and rammed his way through, the dazed troopers barely made a proper aim—some cut close to Cal, others he banked right away. 

"It's a Jedi!" One trooper yelped the obvious.

The redheaded Jedi spotted one of the troopers making a run for a button on the wall. Outstretching his arm with his open palm, he hauled that particular trooper away from the button and then towards him, within a saber's reach he was cut down.

"I can't do this by myself!" The surviving scout trooper whimpered out loud, the warble in his voice huffing through his helmet.

The poor scout braved in charging towards Cal, charging up the electric current on his baton, but was denied a shot by a single, successful parry and then the Jedi followed up with an attack—cutting the enemy down instantly. He now stands before a large, sealed door, he checks the map once more and sees the distance between him and the hangar has shrunken. In the next second, a blaring alarm howling across the complex startled him.

"That ought to be Cere, I hope she has the kid."

Upon opening the door, Cal discovers the elevator lobby—which also serves as a control room. Two troopers had their backs turned to him, manning the computers, while a single KX security droid paces back and forth but its scanners immediately detect Cal's presence—causing its head to jerk to the boy's direction, while its emotionless eyes lit up the moment it saw Cal, the troopers felt the abrupt rise of tension and were alerted by the sight of a Jedi in the room.

"Inferior Jedi!" The KX droid monotonously groaned as it raises a pair of fists, ready to swing it down and bash the Jedi's skull.

Fortunately, Cal evaded the clobber and singes the droid's leg joints, literally bringing it to its knees. Shielding itself with its arms proved useless as the Jedi slices the torso in half, leaving only himself and the troopers. The skirmish was done in five minutes, the boy scrambles to the elevator and slams the button of the hangar's floor number. As the turbolift ascends, Cal takes the time to check on Cere, he kept calling, but there was no answer and he gives up when the elevator gradually slowed down.

The rumble signaled that he's reached his destination, the narrow door retracted into the frame, revealing Cal the vast space of the hangar—each wall was lined with light to medium ships, sitting at the center of the hangar is a transport ship, his ears prick up at the faint wailing of a child.

"Oh no…" he thought. "Cere's too late!"

He ran to the ship, the wailing got louder, then his eyes widened at the discovery: a comlink lies on the floor of the entry ramp, a prerecorded soundbite of the cry plays on loop.

It's a trap!

Behind his head, the baritone humming of a spinning saber flings itself towards him, he spun and deflected it at the nick of time—returning it to the sender: you, perched atop the hangar platform, waiting for your prey to take the bait and then strike. You catch your saber in mid-air while descending from the upper platform with a feathery grace. Striding closer to him, he sees you completely without the helmet for the first time: hair fashioned into an elaborate braid, the tail rests on one shoulder, and loose, wispy fringes frame your face.

"I see you've set off my trap," you pointed out, holding the saber close to your face.

"I knew you'd pull a stunt like that!"

Your eyes lit up, impressed with Cal, "Well, you've become quite smarter than I expected!"

Both Inquisitor and Jedi circled slowly against one another, not knowing who's chasing whom, gentle threats exchange with pleas of coming home only to be received with a hard "no," the tension grows in this wide, open space. Cal decides it's now or never, he attempts to talk it out of you.

"[Y/N], let's come home,"

"This is my home."

He hints at the somber tone of your sentence, almost as if you don't mean it at all, and he believed the insincerity of those words. You mask the denial by making the first move in the fight. The swirl of blades caught Cal off-guard, resulting to a flimsy block on his end; he moved away from the ship, luring you into the wider space for a better fight,  not that it changes much on each other's chances of winning this skirmish.

You barely paused from moving—a tireless lightning rod in human form—the swordfight pressed on in the hangar. For each time Cal struggled to put some distance between you so he can take a second to breathe, you always caught up to him—your frenzied eyes were always the first thing he notices the moment you start to dart towards him, with your arm prepped for an overhead strike and ready to attack. The strike lands, you withdrew and quickly follow up with another—thrusting your saber, he parried it with a subpar flourish and you staggered him with a strong Force push.

The boy flies to the farther side of the room, in your peripheral vision his lightsaber clatters away from him, his hand desperately pats the floor in search of the weapon while he had his eyes glued to you—closing the space at a fast rate. Still lying on his back, he affords a split second to catch a glimpse of his saber and pull it towards him; his own blade hovers mere inches above his neck when your strike landed as you crouch on top of him, bearing your weight on him while you've got him pinned down.

"I almost kind of like this position!" You crowed mischievously.

"[Y/N], please!" He pleaded again.

Without your helmet, Cal saw the life in your eyes better—if he saw wrath the first time, now he sees the misplaced anger and sorrow, the exact same feeling he found during his meditation. He even spots a hint of pink swelling beneath the rims of your eyes.

Has she been… crying? He pondered in that small window of time.

"You don't have to do this—your pain isn't strength!"

Your eyes flared again, but with denial you bellowed, "You don't understand the power that the Dark Side has given me!"

Generously, you withdrew, flipping away from him and landing in the same cat-like grace, giving him a chance to scramble back up on his feet. There was a time for a breather, enough for both. Again, the two of you slowly circle one another while a hostile air hangs over your heads, you point your saber at him.

"I didn't want to be as weak as I was before," you gesture your arms wide open. "And here I am."

"The [Y/N] I know was never weak to begin with,"

You paused in your tracks, slowly angled your head to face Cal, absorbing the empathetic gentleness in his voice. He could make his way through your heart faster than you could build a wall between the two of you. Unconsciously, the atmosphere seems to turn docile.

"I hate it when you patronize me!"

As quick as lightning, you attempt to execute a dashed strike but this time, Cal was prepared for it and he had been anticipating such an attack—he's been reading your every move up until you paused to banter with him. You strike again.

One.

Two.

Slash.

And another.

You jab, but he blocks. Another, and he prevails.

Eventually, he gathered enough strength and momentum, and became at par with the pace and dexterity of your technique. The clashing of sabers became more violent and heavier as the moves from both Jedi and Inquisitor became more pronounced—a contest of brute force. This sudden burst of strength wasn't much of a surprise, you keep up the assault and Cal surely isn't backing down—nor does he plan to.

A single beep of his comlink rings, "Cal, the child is secure! I'm coming for you!"

Cal saw your wide, aghast eyes glimmering with fear and panic, and perhaps a desperation that translates to "I need that child back!" which he felt all at once in that piercing glare when you shot him a look—with your bared teeth and furrowed eyebrows. Heeding to your lessons you, weaponized your emotions against the Jedi, you became a dagger in the wind—amplifying the heaviness of your strikes when it lands and the litheness of your body when eluding his saber.

Cere comes rushing into the hangar, saber and blaster in each hand, reassuring Cal in mere seconds that the child has been brought home.

"The Mantis should be on its way here by now," Cere whispered, her voice shuddered at the words.

She glanced to her side and then fixated her eyes to you—dressed in Inquisitor's garments from the neck down. In your periphery, you saw her blaster hand tremble with fearful disbelief; a secretive smirk played on the corner of your lip, as if to ridicule her shock, her first-time reaction amused you.

"Long time, no see, Cere." You crooned.

"[Y/N], good gods…"

"Oh come now, don't act so surprised. This is your second time anyway!"

A second Jedi wasn't any difficult, thought it's a fresh challenge instead of the typical one-on-one.

"Amazing, I get the privilege of seeing a cut-off Jedi fight firsthand!"

During Cere's attack that you held in a block, you examined Trilla's hilt up close—she had likened it with her old hilt by covering the sleeve with leather wrappings—you glanced at yours in its original form: blood red beams gleaming menacingly on either end, mingling with the purified, ice white blades.

You had to give Cere some credit, even after all these years of being voluntarily cut off from the Force, her muscle memory of combat is intact, incorporating her rugged style with a blaster.

"Impressive," you hummed after a parrying strike, and then another. She quickly switched to her blaster and shot twice, much to her dismay you've banked them seamlessly. "Most impressive."

Cere comes charging at you, ready for a jab, and you'd parry; just when Cal thought you have your attention to her, he attacks—more or less, attempt to—from behind but you duck and twirl, evading his lightsaber and planting a kick on his shin. This dynamic of alternating between the two Jedis lasted for more than a minute, a medley of attack patterns used against you—a handful of which have dealt damage on you, some missed you, but you enjoyed this death-defying thrill, it livened you up in this dull hangar.

Your mischievous, insidious grin stretched across your face melted when the entire hangar rumbled under your boots, explosions roared behind your ears; while holding your ground, you turned to find the source of the sound and found portions of the building are being reduced to shrapnel and inferno. Cere steals your smile and paints it with triumph on; you're not even that mad, you shoot her with a snarl of your lip, catching on with her little game, all the while impressed.

"Oh joy, you'll experience how I actually nearly died!"

You pulled away violently from the tangle of blades, pommeled Cere across the jaw with your own hilt, and pushed her at a certain distance.

"[Y/N]!!"

As the ceiling above your heads crumbled and rained dust, your lightning-fast flurry of the lightsaber did not waive; the boy didn't want to be outmatched—he cannot afford to, now that they're all standing inside a building on the verge of collapse—his dexterity and nimbleness spiked, adapting to your own caliber. Cal wanted to finish this as soon as possible, and he had to think fast; in his peripheral vision, he sees Cere bringing herself back up on her feet, dazed from your hit across her face, and then understood the gravity of her damage.

The garrison begins to collapse, any moment the entire roof will fall over your heads if neither Jedi nor Inquisitor shall stand victorious in this duel. In a final, colossal clash of lightsabers, both youngsters were encased in the sheen of their luminous weapons.

“[Y/N], come on, let’s go home,” Cal pleads once more.

“I can’t—” you choked, tears didn’t hide themselves from Cal, they streamed down your cheek as the stability of your grip fluctuated—influenced by the medley of emotions storming every fiber of your being. “I don’t belong there anymore!”

Despite the sheer intensity, Cal’s voice remained soft and gentle to you, as it always has. In a last-minute resort, he encourages, “You always have belonged with us, and we’re waiting for you to come home.”

Another tear streaks your face, your eyelids drooped, and then spoke in the most defeated, somber tone.

“It’s too late for me now, Cal.”

The crumbling ceiling groans, your eyes roll up and saw the reinforcement beam give way to two colossal chunks of debris plummet in a 50-foot drop from the ceiling straight down to a docked TIE Fighter.

“CAL, LOOK OUT!”

He didn’t fully see your reaction at the last minute; you pull him in and then push him away, but in turn,you got yourself closer to the blast radius. The hot wind picked you up into the air and flung your to the floor like a ragdoll, hitting your head upon landing, rendering you unconscious.

“[Y/N], NO!”

A sharp, piercing noise shrilled in Cal’s ears—all the other noises and voices are reduced to echoing gibberish, even Cere’s calling of your names—straight ahead, he saw you lying unconscious on the floor, covered in debris. He desperately crawled towards you, blatantly ignoring the hollow calls ringing behind his ears; he cradled you in his arms, ignoring the crackling heat flaring near his cheeks.

“[Y/N], come on…” he stuttered. “[Y/N], stay with me… I’m not leaving you a second time!”

He shakes you to coax you into waking up, he could’ve sworn he felt your body shuffle in reaction, he placed his forefinger and middle finger on your neck and found a pulse. He snaps his fingers and BD pops out a stim, he injects it straight into the flesh of your upper arm—you jolted and sucked in a lot of air at the same time, as if emerging into the surface from underwater.

Indeed, you were alive, but relatively weakened by the blast. Your voice saying Cal’s name was drowned out by the roaring flames and the thundering collapse of the garrison.

“Cal, we have to go now!”

Bursting with adrenaline, he scoops you up into his arms and followed Cere to the escape route; evading all the explosions as much as possible and keeping the enemy encounters to a minimum. Although, the evacuees are confused whether to engage the intruders—and presumably, in their heads, rescue the Inquisitor from the Jedi, but they’re felled by either the blasts or Cere’s blaster.

Speeding through the corridors, Cere led Cal to an open docking platform. The Mantis waits at the edge of the catwalk in a fly-by, lightly swerving to dodge blaster fire from the ground, and the entry ramp hangs open.

“Come on, you guys!” shrieked Greez.

Merrin waited by the frame of the entry ramp, the strong wind of the ship and the environment whip her fringes as she feels for balance while getting farther out. On the other hand, Cere and Cal—with you still in his arms—are almost to the edge of the catwalk.

“Come on, you have to jump!” cried out Merrin from the ramp.

Cal assessed the gap between the platform and the ship, it was a risky jump—one miscalculated step equaled to a hundred-foot doom.

“They’re gaining on us!” Cal screeched.

“You go on ahead, I’ll cover you and catch up!”

The boy paced back for momentum, buckled his knees when he slightly crouched, he fixed his grip tighter on you, and trusted his heels as he propelled the balls of his feet off the floor. The Mantis hovers at a considerable height by the edge of the catwalk that won’t send anyone hanging onto the edge of the ramp for dear life.

The soles of his boots planted flat on the metal floor and briskly trotted inside, settling you down gently on the couch, and then he joins Merrin by the ramp, watching Cere blast at the incoming Stormtroopers.

“Cere, let’s go!”

The woman produced a detonator out of her belt pouch and set it off. As a finisher, she gathered all the strength in her throwing arm, the bomb rolled towards the Stormtroopers’ feet and encased them in a cloud of fire and smoke. She quickly turned tail and made the jump, she scrambled on fours to get inside the ship and Cal slams the door button once she’s in.

“Punch it, Greez!”

Greez cranked the hyperdrive lever and sent the Mantis flying out of Jeddah, leaving the garrison crumbling to its destruction in their wake.

[omnivorousshipper]

Shobbs: Adventures in Rescuing

This was requested by anon here

Summary: In the middle of the night, Deckard receives a phone call. Apparently, Hobbs had gotten himself into a sticky situation and it's up to Deckard to save him. He just hopes he's not too late

Deckard leaned back into his plush armchair, carefully balancing his tablet on the arm of the chair as he tucked his legs under him. Once settled, he spread a blanket over himself, picked up his tablet, and readjusted the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. On the end table next to him sat a steaming cup of tea, heavily doused with honey.

This was one of the first nights Deckard had had to himself. No MI6 agents knocking on his door, no little siblings bugging him for attention, and no bad guys trying to kill him. Deckard didn’t mind his chaotic lifestyle, but sometimes it was nice to have a little break and catch up on some reading.

Reaching for his cup of tea, his hand stilled when he heard his phone go off.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Deckard sighed and let his head fall back for a moment before lifting it once again to look down at his phone, which laid next to the cup. For a second, Deckard considered ignoring the call, but knowing who he was related to, he decided that would be a bad idea.

His hand moved towards the phone slowly, almost as if he was about to pick up a venomous snake. Finally, his fingers wrapped around the cool metal and strong vibrations as the phone kept ringing. Looking at the screen, Deckard raised an eyebrow.

Unknown number.

Nobody, other than the people already stored in his phone, should have his number. Whoever it was calling him had a lot of explaining to do. Rolling his eyes, he finally picked up after a few rings, and gruffly answered.

“Shaw.”

“Oh thank god, I never thought you’d answer. Let me tell you, hearing your voice, it’s like hearing an angel’s. No. Like hearing God’s voice himself. Well, if you believe in stuff like that. Myself, not so much. I like believing in stuff I can touch, you know? Like chimichangas-”

Deckard hung up.

And his phone immediately started ringing again.

Even though he knew it was going to be a bad idea, Deckard sighed and picked up again. But before the other person could talk, Deckard growled out a warning.

“If you don’t get to the point right this second, I will find you and force feed you your own bollocks.”

There was a beat of silence before the other person started speaking, much slower and subdued this time.

“Okay, yeah. Totally understand.”

“Now, who the bloody hell are and what do you want?”

“Agent Locke, CIA,” the other man answered happily. “And let me just say, it’s an honor to finally be able to talk to you Deckard. Can I call you Deckard? Great! So, I have a favor to ask of you!”

Taking the phone away from his ear, Deckard rubbed the bridge of his nose, nearly dislodging his glasses. He knew he should hang up. It would be the easiest and simplest way to avoid a headache. But if the man was actually CIA and was able to contact him, something must be up.

Bringing the phone back up to his ear, Deckard was able to hear the tail end of Locke’s tangent.

“-but they said no, even though I told them it was a good idea. Why does nobody listen to me? I get results! I get things done! So what if there’s a little blood spilled along the way? It’s part of the job!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Deckard sighed, feeling his patience close to snapping.

“Your good ol’ buddy, Luke Hobbs of course! Although, he prefers to be called Rebbeca. I came up with that name, you know? He loves it ‘cause we’re best friends and-”

“What about Hobbs, you absolute tit?” Deckard hissed.

“See, that’s where you come in. I sent him after a few baddies in Belgium and all we’ve gotten from him in the last twenty-four hours is radio silence,” Locke blurted out, not seeming to take a breath at all as he relayed the information to Deckard. “And I don’t have any guys in Belgium to help him out, you know, with waffles and chocolate being the only things in Belgium. So, I was hoping you’d go in and help him out?”

Deckard had to resist the urge to rub the bridge of his nose again. And then gave up and rubbed his temple instead.

“You mean to tell me, the CIA doesn’t have anyone who can help an agent who could possibly be taken hostage?”

“Yeah,” Locke sheepishly responded. “That’s basically it.”

“All of you Americans are idiots,” Deckard grumbled.

“And talking about idiot Americans, Hobbs still needs help. Probably. If he’s not already dead,” Locke tagged on at the end.

“Jesus Christ, man!” Deckard nearly yelped. The way Locke just casually mentioned Hobbs’ possibly being dead had Deckard straightening his back and knocking his book to the ground. The idea of Hobbs being surrounded by enemies and taking his last breath made something inside Deckard twist painfully. Nobody deserved a death like that, especially a man like Hobbs.

“So, what do you say?”

“Send me the files on the guys he was tracking. I’ll see what I can do,” Deckard finally said, a note of resignation in his voice.

The next few hours went by in a blur after that. Deckard had rushed to get dressed, collect his gear and weapons, and all the documents he would need to get into Belgium in the middle of the night. Taking one of his least flashy cars, he sped down the Channel Tunnel while he listened to his phone read out the files on the guys Hobbs was tasked to take down.

Hobbs had gone after a guy named Mark Hulmes, the nephew of Lewis Hulmes, one of the most notorious mob bosses in all of Brussels. Apparently the younger Hulmes had been branching out and had tried buying some high end weapons from the black market, sending red flags to the CIA. And it seemed like they had a valid reason to be concerned if Hulmes got his hands on those weapons. The man had been involved in a multitude of violent crimes, including attempted murder, but because his uncle had strong connections with the judge, the younger Hulmes got off with only a few months of probation.

Deckard had never really been in contact with the criminal underworld of Brussels, but he knew Hulmes’ types. He was a ticking time bomb.

One that might have a mouthy DSS agent in his grasp.

Deckard knew Hobbs could handle himself, but from the way Locke put it, it seemed like Hobbs went in alone. And while the man was an absolute powerhouse by himself, Deckard knew that it could take only one lucky shot to take someone down. He just hoped that that didn’t happen to Hobbs and the man was just laying low.

“You better be alive, Hobbs, or else I’m going to kick your sorry arse,” Deckard mumbled to himself, gripping the steering wheel hard, his knuckles going white..

The next few hours went by slowly, with Deckard stiffly sitting and pushing his luck with the speed limit and local police. He couldn’t help the images that would pop into his head every few minutes. From Hobbs beaten and bruised, to him screaming in pain, to his lifeless bo-

“He’s fine,” Deckard firmly told himself. “If he could survive Brixton, he can survive some back alley punk from Brussels.”

The statement only marginally helped him feel better, but didn’t stop the darker thoughts from creeping back in.

The sun was peeking over the horizon when Deckard finally reached the row of abandoned warehouses that the Hulmes family owned and no doubt did most of their dirty business. The buildings were on their last legs, looking as if a strong wind would knock them down. There were weeds growing up the sides of them, while every window was shattered and allowed the elements to enter the buildings.

After a few loops around the place, Deckard was able to spot a few cars parked around one in particular, while all the others stood empty. Parking behind the one that appeared to be inhabited, Deckard started to grab as many guns, ammo, and other weapons that he could. And it being him, he was able to carry quite a bit.

He had no idea how many men would be inside, only a rough estimate from the eight or so cars he saw parked in front. It took him several minutes to gear up, but finally he shut the trunk of his car, armed to the teeth. Holding his custom handgun, the SVI Infinity, he sneaked around the warehouse, looking for a different entrance other than the front door.

“That’ll work,” Deckard smirked, spotting a firescape on the side of the building and allowing him access to the second floor. It was severely rusted and missing several rungs, and creaked horribly when Deckard started to climb up it. Taking his time, he listened carefully to the noises coming from inside.

He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but from the shouts and loud, boisterous laughter, it made the hair on the back of Deckard’s neck stand on end. People like Hulmes didn’t laugh when things were funny, but when something was in pain. That thought made Deckard quicken his pace, not caring if the deteriorating metal underneath him made noise; he needed to get to Hobbs.

The door at the top was just as rusted as the rest of the firescape and almost fell apart in Deckard’s hands as he shoved it open. It creaked loudly, making Deckard freeze in fear of being discovered. He couldn’t risk Hobbs’ life before he had even verified if the man was even in this building. Luckily, the shouts from down below didn’t stop, and Deckard could feel his heart slow.

Carefully entering the building, Deckard crouched near the railing of the platform that made up the second level of the building. And immediately, Deckard could feel rage boil up from his gut and spreading through his veins. Because down below, he could see Hobbs.

The large man was chained to a chair, surrounded by a group of various men, all who were circling the DSS agent and shouting taunts at him. Deckard felt himself jerk forward as he watched one of the men down below move quickly, his hand shooting out to punch Hobbs across the face.

“Look, boys! He’s not so tough anymore!” The man shouted, shrill laughter leaving him and bouncing off the concrete walls of the warehouse. “And to think anyone was ever scared of this worthless piece of shit!”

Hobbs didn’t react from the hit or insults. Instead, his head rolled so his chin was sitting on his chest, his whole body saging into the chair.

Deckard felt his finger twitch on the trigger of his gun as a spike of panic went through him. Hobbs was obviously unconscious and would no doubt need medical assistance soon.  Clenching his jaw, Deckard raised his gun with both hands, leveling it at the group of men.

“Try it again, you arseholes,” he growled.

And like he predicted, another man broke away from the circle and was leveling a kick towards Hobbs’ head. With ease, Deckard tracked the man’s movements and before his foot was even halfway in the air, Deckard was pulling the trigger.

Chaos exploded underneath Deckard as the rest of the men started shouting and screaming from their friend’s brains spilled all over the floor and the resounding crack of Deckard’s gun echoed off the walls. Deckard sent out several more shots as the group below him ran around like headless chickens, all of them scrambling to grab their own guns.

“Up there!” One of the men shouted, pointing up at Deckard.

“Shit,” Deckard hissed out, and quickly stood up from his crouch and ran towards the stairs leading down to the lower floor and to Hobbs. He could hear several bullets ricocheting off the guardrail next to him. Ducking, he grabbed a different gun and easily raised it to shoot the men who were running up the stairs, trying to get to him.

Their bodies fell, making him have to jump over them and down the last few steps. He was immediately met with a baseball coming straight for his head. Dropping down, Deckard balanced on one foot and a hand on the ground, and sent a sweeping kick to his attacker’s legs, making the man hit the ground hard. Quick as lightning, Deckard moved over the man and hit him over the head hard with the butt of his gun, knocking the man out.

Jumping to his feet, Deckard kept charging forward, meeting another wave of Hulmes’ lackies head on. He ducked and weaved between them, easily dodging their fumbling limbs as they tried to fend him off. Every single one of them dropped to the ground, either from a vicious punch, a swift kick, or well placed bullet.

Panting, Deckard took on every person who came at him, and soon enough, the crowd of minions was thinning and leaving only about ten minions and Hulmes himself.

“Hey, arsehole!”

Shoving a guy off him, Deckard whipped his head around at the voice.

And felt his heart stop.

Standing behind Hobbs, holding a knife to his neck, was Hulmes.

“That’s right! If you don’t want me slitting this rat bastard’s throat open, then you better give right now, you piece of shit!” Hulmes shouted, the knife he was holding pressing further into Hobbs’ skin and making a line of blood to appear. “Drop you guns!”

Baring his teeth, Deckard let his current handgun fall from his hand and raised both hands to show his surrender. Two of Hulmes’ minions grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms tight behind his back. Ignoring the spike of pain that shot up his shoulders, Deckard let the men drag him towards where Hulmes and Hobbs were.

Now that he was much closer, Deckard felt another wave of rage wash over him as he took in the state Hobbs was in. He was clearly unconscious, his head hanging limp in Hulmes’ hold. There was a mess of bruises all over his face, while Deckard could see several cuts and gashes scattered all over his body, all of them slowly bleeding and soaking his clothing. The only thing keeping Deckard’s anger from spilling over was the fact that Hobbs’ chest was steadily moving up and down.

“That’s right,” Hulmes sneered. “One wrong move from you and I’ll cut your DSS buddy up.”

Deckard didn’t say anything, but felt a thrill of amusement go through him when Hulmes’ expression fell slightly at the glare Deckard was sending him.

“You two” Hulmes waved to some of his remaining men. “Search him and strip him of all of his weapons.”

Staying still, Deckard let the minions grab gun after gun off him, and couldn’t hold back the smug smirk that grew larger and larger as a formable sized pile started to form.

“Not so tough now are you, without all of your guns,” Hulmes taunted, his voice filled with faux confidence. Deckard could clearly see his hand shaking from where it still held a knife to Hobbs’ throat.

“I don’t need any gun to take you or your boys down,” Deckard said in a bored tone. Hulmes’ face scrunched up in confusion and fury. He shoved Hobbs’ head away from him, and stormed up to Deckard, shoving the knife so close to Deckard, he could just about feel the tip of it brushing against his nose.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but let me tell you, I won’t be bullied by some wannabe-”

While Hulmes was talking, Deckard subtly twisted his hand and was able to slip his watch off. With a hard thrust backwards, he was able to break the hold on his arms and snap his arm out to hit Hulmes across the face with his watch.

“Fuck!” Hulmes screeched and stumbled away.

The men who had been holding Deckard’s arms were staring at him in shock, not knowing what had just happened. Using their confusion, Deckard lunged toward them, with his watch wrapped around his knuckles, so the watch face was on the top of his fit. He heard a satisfying crunch as his fist landed on the first minion’s face. The second one went down just as quickly, still too stuck in his own confusion and fear as he watched Deckard take down his buddy.

The last few minions came at him fast and hard, but it was too easy to duck down, grab a gun and face them head on. The fight only lasted less than a minute, with each minion falling one after another. When the final body hit the floor, Deckard watched it disinterestedly, before looking up and tracking the room for Hulmes. The man was running straight for the main entrance.

Lifting his pistol, Deckard took aim and a final shot boomed through the warehouse as Hulmes’ body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Deckard didn’t bother watching the body hit the floor, as he was already turning towards Hobbs and rushing towards his still slumped body. Gently, Deckard grabbed Hobbs’ head, each hand on a cheek.

“Hobbs. Hobbs! Can you hear me?” Deckard tried not to let the panic he was feeling slip into his voice. Still trying to be gentle, he patted Hobbs’ cheek, trying to get the man to wake up. “Hobbs!”

“Nnngh,” Hobbs finally groaned after a minute of nudging. His dark eyes blinked open, blurrily looking up at Deckard.

“Hobbs, thank Christ,” Deckard breathed out, cradling Hobbs’ head. He looked into the other man’s rapidly closing eyes, trying to see if his pupils were the same size.

“What…?” Hobbs slurred and promptly passed out again.

“Fuck sakes,” Deckard sighed out. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to drag you out of here, you giant?”

~~~

Luke’s not sure what woke him up; it could have been several things: the blinding light streaming in from the window, the loud voices he could hear not too far away, or the massive spiking pain that was going through his body. Well, it was definitely more in his head than anywhere else. Rubbing his head, Luke carefully levered himself up right, and took in the room around him.

It was a standard hotel room: outdated wallpaper, a bed, a dresser, a door to a bathroom, a door to the outside, and on the bed, Deckard Shaw.

Wait. What?!

Luke had to do a double take and whipped his head to look down at the man sleeping next to him. Laying next to Luke, the smaller man was curled up tight, still above the covers, with a hand stretched out towards Luke, almost as if he wanted to grab him.

What is he doing here? Wait, what am I doing here? What happened? Luke wondered to himself.

Frankly, even trying to remember more than his name hurt his head, but he tried to think back to the last twenty-four hours. One of Hulmes’ men had found him sneaking into one of the warehouses the mob family owned, and had been dragged inside, where he met Hulmes face to face. But, after that, things got hazy. Luke could easily remember the pain, the questions Hulmes spit in his face as he kicked or punched Luke repeatedly. He remembered passing out and the rest was a blank.

Keeping an eye on the ex-assassin still in the bed, Luke slowly swung his feet off the bed, trying to ignore how the world was spinning.

“Hobbs?” A voice rasped behind him.

Cursing under his breath, Luke turned and saw Shaw slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah?” Luke asked, keeping his voice level. He watched with narrowed as eyes as Shaw nimbly rolled off the bed onto his feet and rounded the bed to face Luke. Without thinking, Luke’s back straightened and he leaned back when Shaw was in front of him. The other man ignored him and was immediately grabbing the back of his head. Luke tried to jerk his head out of the strong grasp, but a sharp pain had him hissing out instead. “What the fuck are you doing, Shaw?”

“Checking how the lump on your head is, you absolute wanker,” Shaw mumbled back, focusing on feeling the said bump.

Luke was shocked to hear the actual concern running through Shaw’s voice and the way his touch stayed gentle, never once pressing too hard and causing pain. Soon enough, he nodded and took his hands away from Luke’s head, but then moved them to Luke’s torso, making Luke freeze at the feeling of those surprisingly soft hands on his bare chest, where several bandages were. And that’s when Luke realized just how close the other man was.

Shaw was practically standing in between Luke’s legs, his face only a few inches away from Luke’s as his brow furrowed as he checked Luke’s injuries. Luke could feel his face heat up and his heart beat faster by how close the smaller man was.

But all too soon, Shaw was pulling away and taking a step back from Luke. And Luke immediately missed having him so close.

“What do you remember?” Shaw asked bluntly, crossing his arms and waiting for Luke’s answer.

“Other than when Hulmes’ men caught me, not much,” Luke admitted.

“Bastards really got you,” Deckard said tightly. “You were completely out of it when I got there and saved your sorry arse.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up. That had definitely been concern in Shaw’s voice.

“You took Hulmes and his guys down?” Luke asked incredulously.

“Wasn’t that hard,” Deckard shrugged. “Hulmes might have acted like a hard ass, but as soon as I bitched slapped him, his tune changed.”

Luke couldn’t help but match the smirk on Deckard’s face with a smile. Most guys he faced acted tough, but could never really deliver. But when it came to Shaw, the man could always hold his own and find a way out of a situation, which Luke had to admit was impressive.

“Well, thanks, man,” Luke sincerely responded, catching the surprised look on Shaw’s face. “If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened to me. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shaw mumbled, not looking Luke in the eye and shifted his weight from one leg to another. Luke couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he watched the bashful display. He’ll have to thank Shaw a lot more in the future. However, the other man cleared his throat before Luke could say anything else. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I think so,” Luke answered, a trace of uncertainty in his voice. Sitting up and staying still had helped the world to stop spinning, but Luke didn’t know what his balance would be like. It felt like someone had replaced his bones with jello.

Carefully, he hoisted himself off the bed and stood for a moment. So far, so good, Luke thought and took a step forward.

And almost fell flat on his face.

“Whoa there, big guy!” Deckard huffed out, catching Luke’s arms and helping him stand. Luke blinked rapidly, letting Deckard keep a hold on him and making sure he wouldn’t fall again. Because honestly, Luke had a feeling he would need the help.

After a moment of catching his breath, Luke looked down at the smaller man and felt his heart stutter at the way Shaw- wait, no- Deckard was looking at him. The worry in those deep, brown eyes was astounding as he carefully kept his grip on Luke firm, but gentle at the same.

Luke couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him with so much worry and attention, other than Sam. And thinking about it, Luke wasn’t sure he could remember a time where someone had to come save his ass, take out the guy he had been hunting, and then drag him somewhere safe to patch him up. And all without expecting anything in return. Because Luke knew Deckard wasn’t the time to save someone and ask for payment. That’s not why he did it.

Looking down at the smaller man, Luke couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward and just barely brushed his lips against Deckard’s, causing him to let out a small gasp. Pulling back, Luke was expecting a punch, a shove, or to even to be yelled at. Instead, he felt Deckard’s hand once again on the back of his head, but this time, his grip was tighter as he kept Luke where he was and crashed their lips together.

It was like fireworks were exploding all throughout Luke’s veins from where they touched: from every motion of Deckard’s lips, to the way his arms clung to Luke’s, and when Deckard shoved his chest against Luke’s, trying to get as close as he could. Luke never wanted the feeling to end, but he could feel himself becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen.

Finally breaking the kiss, Luke rested his forehead against Deckard’s, both of them leaning on each other and catching their breath.

“We should leave soon,” Deckard whispered quietly, not daring to break the calm between them.

“Where’re we going?” Luke whispered back, slowly rubbing a thumb on Deckard’s arm.

“Breakfast first, and then to London, back to my place.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“But first, let’s get you dressed.” Deckard smiled and leaned in for one most swift kiss before pulling back. As they both moved to wrangle a shirt over Luke’s bandaged chest, Luke was again surprised how gentle and caring Deckard’s touch was. He could definitely get used to it.

Deckard wrapped an arm around Luke’s waist, both of them moving slowly since Luke’s legs were still doing an imitation of a newborn fawn’s. But suddenly, Luke stopped, something just occurring to him.

“Um, is this a bad time to tell you I probably can’t pay for breakfast since I don’t have my wallet anymore?” Luke asked hesitantly.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, love. I’m sure I can find several ways you can repay me,” Deckard purred, his smirk holding several promises.

Smirking back, Luke was going to make sure that Deckard held to all of those promises.

[honeymoonjin]

bts reaction - a video of the two of you goes viral

A/N: requested by a lovely anon :) 

JIN

the two of you were always cooking together at the boys’ dorm so you didn’t think any different when some of the others asked you to make them some dinner

little did the two of you know that jungkook and hobi were conspiring against you by placing a little camera they had borrowed off staff and filming the whole thing

as normal, the two of you found your rhythm in preparing and cooking several meats and vegetables, completely unaware that your every movement was being live-streamed on v-live

as you waited for the hot water on the stove to boil, you snuck over and slid yourself under Jin’s arm so that he was trapping you against the bench 

“i can’t see the carrots anymore, honey”

“oh, jinnie, who cares about carrots when your beautiful girlfriend is in front of you” 

weirdly enough, just like jin loves complimenting himself, he also loves it when you’re confident about your own looks, and you know how to use that to your advantage

jin smiles sweetly down at you and leans in for a kiss, murmuring against your lips “mmm, you’re right, those boys can make themselves dinner for once, i’m in the mood for a little private eatjin”

just as he begins to start grinding his hips against you, jungkook scrambles into the kitchen, just about slipping in his socks

“hyung stop! stop!”

you watch in bewilderment as he opens a slightly ajar cupboard and pulls out a camera, which was pointing straight at you

“what’s going on?” 

jungkook waves at the camera with a little laugh and then looks back up at you “we just wanted to prank you guys, but then you had to go and do...that. eugh, it’s burned onto my retinas now”

you blink in shock but your boyfriend doesn’t seem nearly as surprised. “jin..?”

“i saw the red light beeping when i went to get the chopping board”

“you knEW? and you still were going to-”

jin grins cheekily “i wanted to show off my beautiful girlfriend, is that so wrong?”

you keep a neutral face, but you can’t help but blush. “...fine, but let’s continue this show in private, okay?”

YOONGI

when it came to righting serenades to lovers, rap wasn’t generally the best medium

yoongi knew that, so for a while he had been asking jin in secret to help him improve his singing

he knew his hyung had been through trying to learn everything, and he was a great teacher

now, yoongi sat you down on his lap as he sat at the piano, delicate hands wiping down the keys nervously

he’s set up a little camera in the corner because he wanted to record the audio as a demo to send to namjoon, but he couldn’t track down the voice recorder, so a decent camera was just easier

he can just convert it to an audio file later anyway

you lean back and crane your neck around to watch him, but he pushes you back softly so that you’re eyes aren’t on him

he’s nervous as fuck, okay? he’s way out of his comfort zone here

his voice is quiet and a little wobbly but there’s a genuinity there, and it sounds so beautiful with the piano to accompany it

the lyrics are beautiful, and as you feel yourself fall in love with him more and more, you wish you could see his face right now, but you obediently watch him manipulate the white ivory instead

luckily, or perhaps unluckily, a couple of weeks later namjoon accidentally uploads the video version instead of the mp3 version on the official twitter, and it immediately goes viral

you watch it yourself, melting at the way yoongi’s eyes barely glance at the keys as he sings, fixated on you

the song is messed with a little before the release of the next album, but when he performs it in concert, the whole audience sings with him

after hearing the lyrics and seeing the real love that it stemmed from, army have taken it on board as the official song of their love towards BTS

yoongi is over the moon that people have really connected with his song, but still, the best performance of it he ever gave was that first time, when it was just him, you, and the piano

HOSEOK

you can’t dance

you know this. hobi knows this. the rest of bangtan won’t let you forget it.

but unlike the other members who just laugh at your awkward attempts to mimic their choreo during sound check, hobi wants you to be able to enjoy the thing that he loves so much, so he takes it upon himself to teach you

unfortunately, bighit smell profit like blood in the water, and they decide hobi should start doing it as a hope on the street series

so every second tuesday, like clockwork, army get to enjoy a video of (in your c o r r e c t opinion) the hottest guy on the planet deal with the dancing equivalent of a trainwreck

“honestly, seokie, just give up now. it’s been three months and my dancing still looks like i’m fighting a ghost and losing”

“i told you if you stopped flailing so much and just slowed down your arm movements you’d be much better!”

“didn’t you say i should find something that made me unique?!”

and so the sixth episode of this special edition of hope on the street becomes you and hobi pettily arguing and making zero progress

fans in particular tweet a million times about the moment that hoseok gives up, chases you around the studio and then tackles you and straddles you, forcing your surrender

it’s a very suggestive position, so you kinda can’t blame them, but now the problem is that army won’t shut up about getting more of it

they want you to suffer so that they can see how sexy hoseok looks when he gets angry

because holy fuck is he sexy when he gets angry

episode nine has him slapping you in the ass every time you miss your cue

episode eleven features him manhandling you into position when you insist you’re too tired to dance

maybe one day you’ll improve but for now you’re destined to showcase your lack of ability on an international scale with your unbelievably talented boyfriend

NAMJOON

unfortunately as namjoon’s girlfriend, your viral video moment isn’t as pg

namjoon is a real horndog, so it’s become pretty run of the mill for you two to send pictures back and forth

normally it’s on snapchat so that there’s no trace

but namjoon tells you he wants a video he can keep before he goes on tour, so he asks you to send one on your basic messaging service, that way he can save it to his camera roll

namjoon is doing a fanmeet, and they’re playing a game where one of the members streams their phone to the screen behind them and the fans have to guess who it is

most of the other members use mirroring, where the whole screen shows up exactly as it is on the phone, so namjoon assumes its all or nothing

he does his, and once he’s done instead of turning it off like he thinks he has (because his screen is no longer showing up) he’s just turned it to the setting where only videos stream

the fanmeeting is boring af (no offense army) but maybe it’s just because namjoon is missing you rn

he pulls out his phone to take a sneak peek at the video, making sure volume is down, but then your moans blast through the speakers

yup. namjoon is streaming a video of you getting off to the entire hall

fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfcufkcufckuckfuk

his heart is beating so hard in his chest and his fingers shake as he desperately tries to mess with the settings and stop the video playing, but by the time he does, the whole room is chaos

fans are screaming and squealing and the members are either crying with laughter or look like they just want the ground to swallow them whole

namjoon is certainly the latter

but he laughs awkwardly, apologizes and tries to change the subject

army feel kinda bad for him and the way his cheeks are bright bright red so they let him move on, but you best believe shaky hand-cam videos of namjoon freaking out while his girlfriend’s sex tape plays on the big screen are going viral for MONTHS

JIMIN

in this case, it’s not a single video, but rather a compilation, that goes viral

we been knew that jimin is a slut for attention but one dedicated army scrounged up clips from all over the internet to put together a twelve minute-long video of all the moments of jimin being a needy boyfriend

there’s an entire three-minute section dedicated to his heart-eyes stare when you’re not watching

there’s a low quality video of you which all fans of bts have seen a million times where jimin straight-up grabs your hand and puts it over his dick behind stage after their comeback show

about a million different instances of him feeling you up as a way for you to stop what you were doing and look at him

and then of course there was a supercut of moments from the various Bangtan Bombs you had featured in where he whines and pouts and wiggles his shoulders when you’re chatting with namjoon and not him

the two of you see the video when you keep getting tagged, and while it just makes jimin even more whiny, you have a good laugh over it

in fact, you take it upon yourself to start tweeting some screenshots of jimin being needy, exposing him yourself

“it’s tiring being the girlfriend of an idol, but it’s even more tiring when it’s jiimin!” you tweet

of course, jimin’s feelings are a liiiittle hurt and you have to make it up to him for weeks

(and don’t think the fans don’t notice how jimin suddenly starts acting like he has the biggest dick in town)

(they’re well aware some shit has gone down every time he comes out from backstage only to have red cheeks and a dopey grin)

TAEHYUNG

this is 100% percent tae’s fault

he thought it would be fucking hilarious to post the drunken voicemail you had left him one night when you were out partying with your girls

to be fair, if it was anyone else but you, you would’ve laughed too

but that’s your voice in bubbling sobs confessing your undying love to him so it is most certainly Not Funny, thank you very much

“...and i hope you get a good sleep because you deserve it and i hope that you know how much i love you because when i look at you it’s like all the stars left the sky and they’re in your eyes and you’re so beautiful and i love you so much and sometimes it hurts me inside because you’re so wonderful and magical and. oh also, did we get milk the other day? we’re almost out of milk i think. anyway i just called to let you know i’m staying over at unnie’s place so don’t wait up. okay i love you. no, you hang up first! oh, you don’t wanna hang up on me because you looooooove me too much! goodniiight baby”

and then a solid 43 seconds of you breathing because you forgot to actually hang up, and eventually the recording stops

army think it’s the cutest thing in the world, and tae does too, but of all the beautiful things you’ve done for him in private he chooses to share the drunk one? just rude

#[your ship name]needmilk is the new trending hashtag, and army literally start bringing milk cartons to fanmeetings, telling tae to give it to you

you have too much milk, and not enough dignity

you tell fans this on twitter and then #toomuchmilk replaces it

next time you get drunk, you are determined not to call tae

JUNGKOOK

of all the things you could do with your time, become anonymous amateur porn-stars probably wasn’t the most productive or advisable

but being an idol had given jungkook both a desire to do something without being recognized as the maknae from BTS, and simultaneously a huge fetish for exhibitionism

he’s a performer, it’s in his blood, so why fuck when you can fuck and have people get off to you? that’s what he figures, so the two of you create an account

you’re obviously extremely careful about not showing your faces, and the current system you have set up is putting down a strip of tape on the bed (or wherever you’re fucking as it most certainly varies) where the edge of camera shot reaches

you keep your heads above that line, and no one can see a thing

you also try to keep out any identifying materials in the shot like clothes you’ve worn in public before, or the many figurines jungkook has lying around

maybe what makes the eventual discovery even worse is how long it takes

nobody finds out for well over a year, so there’s a preeetty hefty backlog of videos

in the end, it’s your own stupid mistake that gives it away

jungkook shoots a v-live shortly after the two of you film a video of you two doing it in his studio

you had cleared out the wall so it was just plain black, and even brought in a chair from a different room so that no one for whatever reason would recognise jungkook’s gaming chair

but he’s so blissed out from you riding him and giving him one of the best orgasms of his life that he makes a rookie mistake

he forgets to take off the blue masking tape that lies in a rough square on the wall

when he returns his studio back to the way it was and goes live, one army who clearly was also a fan of your porn videos notices the tape and mentions it in the comments

soon enough the numbers of the chat peak and fall crazily as fans leave the live to go check the pornsite and your most recent vid, and come back to compare it to his studio

jungkook tries to pretend like he’s not noticing the stream of comments talking about how hot he looks and how good his moans sound, but he realises he never wanted it to be this way

he wanted to keep this and his videos separate, and now he’s made an irreversible mistake

he shuts off the v-live without warning and runs down to namjoon’s room in tears, asking what to do

in the end the issue is resolved by deleting the channel immediately, and very few people actually thought to take anything more than a screenshot, but jungkook knows he won’t be seen as a baby boy maknae ever again

(namjoon also realizes that for the past five months he’s been unwittingly jacking it religiously to jungkook fucking his girlfriend)

(he doesn’t tell jungkook this)

[phantomwarrior12]

Difficult Adjustments

Prompt: Hi! Can I have a Gabriel x Reader where the reader gets really sick?  A hunt is supposed to happen but Dean and Sam starts ranting on how they should take care of her or else Gabriel would get mad. The people from the apocalypse world are scared to hear another archangel’s name. Then suddenly Gabriel appears and everyone (except sam and dean and reader) points a weapon at him. Gabriel started joking around and heals the reader. Soon the people from apocalyptic world warms up to Gabe. Thank you!

Word Count: 1,823

Summary: When you’re sick, sometimes all it take is for an archangel to drop by and crack a few jokes.

Warnings: Swearing, major innuendos, Gabriel in general

A/N: Hey folks!

Shout out to the wonderful anon who sent me this ask awhile ago. I do apologize for it taking so long, I’ve been buried in prompts and such. I hope you enjoy the fic! :)

Please leave a like/comment and let me know your thoughts!

~ Phantom

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

"Y/N, bright and early means bright and early. Come on, we need to hit the road." Dean looks up as you shuffle into the war room, dragging your duffel behind you.

You feel like death, or, more accurately, on the verge of death. It's the dead of winter and you've managed to pick up a hell of a cold that has you feeling like you'd rather drop than fight whatever monster Sam's picked up on.

"Dean, I don't feel good." You heave the bag up onto the table, scrubbing at your face as if it'll scrub away the congestion and pounding headache.

"Our almighty Chief is getting ready to send the other hunters out. We need you on this, Y/N. So, grab some sudafed and load up." Dean throws the rest of his weapons into his bag before he slings it over his shoulder.

"She's not looking too good, Dean," Sam points out, setting down the cell phone he's had pressed to his ear for the past hour, "You and I can handle it, it sounds like a simple salt and burn anyway."

"When is it ever a simple salt and burn, Sam?" Dean nudges his little brother, "Besides, Cas is gonna meet us there and he can heal her before we head out."

"I'd rather sleep," you sink into the nearest chair, folding your arms in front of you on the edge of the table before you rest your forehead on your forearms.

"Come on, hunters don't get sick days. Once you light a corpse on fire, you'll feel better."

"Dean, let her sit this one out."

"Well, who's gonna stay with her? The kid's with Cas, Mom and Bobby are on a hunt and you're about to deploy the mighty hunter army. It's not like Gabriel is here to take care of her." Dean stops when the whole room goes quiet at the mention of the archangel, "He's a douche, but he's on our side," he assures the apocalypse hunters and they turn back to their tasks.

Sam sighs, "He's gonna flip if he shows up and no one is here with Y/N."

"Y/N is here and is very capable of handling herself. I may be sick, but I'm not inept. Go, hunt, salt and burn. If our Favorite Feathered Friend shows up, I'll assure him that I insisted you all leave so I could sleep."

"I thought Cas was the triple F," Sam glances towards you, a cross between amusement and confusion etched into his features.

"I'm backing you up, Samuel. Take it and leave." You lift your head just enough to scowl at the youngest Winchester.

"I heard my name."

All eyes dart to the archangel propped lazily against the doorframe to the hallway. The room echoes with the cocking of weapons and the Winchesters are the first to react.

"Lower your weapons. Crew, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, this is the hunting crew," Dean makes the introductions, glancing around the room, "I'm serious, people, weapons down."

"Nice to see you have an automated defense system now, Samsquatch," Gabriel remarks, pushing off the wall, gazing expectantly at the hunters as their weapons slowly begin to lower, "Maybe you two knuckleheads will stay alive for once."

"Maybe you'll stay alive for once," Dean counters, a proud smirk slipping across his features at his successful comeback.

"Hey, I only fake my death, I don't actually die."

"Gabriel--" Sam starts with a sigh, swiftly silenced by your interjection.

"Well I'm ready to die. Can you either heal me or put me out of my misery, feathers?" You look directly at the archangel, an expectant look on your face.

He paces closer, golden hues drifting from your exhausted frame to the hunters around you, "What seems to be the problem, sweetcheeks?"

"I'm sick."

"Ah, yes. That's why tweedledee and tweedledum were worried about no one being home with you." He tilts his head slightly, "Well, more accurately, worried about how I might react if they didn't take care of you."

"Gee, I wonder why that is," you sigh, leaning back in your seat before you cross your arms in annoyance.

"And why's that?" A cocky grin slips across his lips.

You narrow your eyes at the archangel, "Heal me and stop being a dick."

"So demanding," Gabriel tsks, shaking his head as he paces closer.

"My head is pounding and I'm congested as fuck, now would you please use that damned angel glitter to heal this cold before I cough on you."

Gabriel snorts indelicately, vaguely aware of the snickers echoing through the war room and he smiles, "All right, sugar," he touches your forehead lightly and the cold disappears.

"Thank you," you huff, inhaling deeply in relief.

"You're welcome." He appears in the seat beside you, startling the apocalypse hunters near you, "So, Sam, how's it feel to be the head honcho?"

You're vaguely aware of the archangel's arm slung haphazardly across the back of your seat. You're not entirely sure what to make of the situation; he's always there, any catastrophe, any minor inconveniences, he's there, rushing to your aid. Ever since the alternate universe Michael, ever since he hitched a ride back to your earth inside your meat suit, he's been particularly attentive and you're not sure what, if anything, would inspire such a change in an archangel with commitment issues.

You're thrown from your thoughts by a nudge from Gabriel, blinking rapidly for a moment before y/e/c finds whiskey, "What?"

"I asked how you're feeling, given that that pretty little mind of yours is going a thousand miles a minute." There's an upward twitch to the corner of his lips, an emotion you can't quite grasp glinting in his eyes.

"I'm fine," you slide to the edge of your seat, putting as much distance between the warmth of his arm and your back, every sense heightened by his proximity.

He offers little more than a nod, turning a majority of his attention back the Winchesters. The distraction allows you a moment to think, to notice his being fill every inch of the room, at least, every inch around you. It's a comfort, almost like a blanket curled around your frame, easing every muscle, calming every nerve with a tender warmth flourishing in feather-light touches against your skin.

You steal a glance towards the archangel, studying his profile quietly. There's a playful smirk etched into his features, a slight quirk of the eyebrow when Sam suggests he come along on the hunt. Your eyes dart back to your bag, attempting to look busy when Gabriel shifts his gaze back to you.

"What do you think, sugar?"

"What do I think what?" You question, sliding the chair back, forcing his arm from the back of your seat.

"About me tagging along? Giving those knuckleheads a hand?" The corner of his lips curl upwards in a mischievous smirk, jerking his head slightly in the brothers' general direction.

"Be my guest. Maybe then, you'll get to make some new friends in our little hunter army and torment them every once in awhile."

"Doubtful, they all look ready to dip me in holy oil and set me ablaze from the the wings up." He pops up out of the chair with more enthusiasm than usual, pacing around the chair towards you.

"They need a chance to get to know you, feathers. This is as good a time as any." You zip up your duffel before you fold your arms in front of your chest.

He stops just short of you, a cocky grin replacing the smirk, "I think we're plenty acquainted."

"You need to work on your people skills," you square your shoulders a little more, forcing the amusement from your voice.

The cockiness fades to mischief as he steps closer, "That's not what you said last time I was here."

A scowl slips across your features as you smack his chest, voice chiding with a sharp, "Gabriel!"

Somewhere, amongst the sea of hunters, there are some snickers, a few widened eyes and borderline judgmental gazes. The archangel's ego seems to soar by one look in particular, an almost jealous glint in one hunter's eyes before she turns back to her gear.

"Something happen after he hitched a ride home?" Dean queries, glancing between the two of you.

"No." It's an abrupt return as you straighten your jacket and sling your pack across your shoulder, "There's a ghost to put to rest, come on."

"Now, hold on a minute," Dean's eyes shift from you to Gabriel and back again, "Did you two--"

"Get laid? Sleep together? Satisfy some carnal desire to ravage one another?" Gabriel's arm eases around your shoulder and tugs you closer.

"...yeah?" Dean's features contort in disgust, noting the aggravated snarl you've trained on the archangel.

"Nope, didn't happen." Gabriel shrugs, pulling away and proceeds to inspect a salt pellet shell on the table.

There's another wave of snickers and side eyes that you can't help but notice, frustration growing by the second.

You know he can feel it, his running gag easing the palpable tension in the room--you only wish it didn't come at the cost of your sanity.

"Right, well...if you're coming with us, no funny business. I don't want Baby to be scarred by your dirty jokes," Dean picks up his bag, watching Sam hand out hunt assignments and the tension seems to melt away with the return of order.

You watch the hunters file out, offering little more than a glance towards the pleased archangel, attention he no doubt enjoys given his expression. It's a sort of dignified glee, a pleasant smile and a buzzing energy that flows off his frame in waves, crashing against your rigid form until you cave with an upward twitch to the corner of your lips.

"Now you're plenty acquainted."

"I'd say that went well, wouldn't you, cupcake?" Gabriel turns to face you, gauging the sincerity of your smile.

You wait until the last hunter has left before you meet his gaze, "Better than it could have. But, if you ever insinuate we've slept together when we haven't, I will clip your wings, understand?"

Your warning does little to alter his mood as a low chuckle rolls through his chest before he steps closer, his hands smoothing over your waist, "What if I didn't have to insinuate anymore?"

"Believe me, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, sweetheart, I've already been inside you, the rest is just a formality we can--"

"Whoa!" Dean interjects, "That's enough of that," he grabs your forearm, pulling you out of the indignant archangel's grasp, "Y/N, you're riding with me. Sam will drive your car."

"I'm not a child," you jerk your arm away.

"You rather ride with the horny angel over there?"

"...fine. This conversation isn't over, feathers." You point at him sternly, moving towards the door beside Dean.

"It never is, sugar."

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

Taglists are open! Send me an ask/message to be added!

Gabriel Squad: @thewhiterabbit42 @erisunderthemoon @stuckoutsideofthebox @nuvoleincielo @lyselkatz @high-church-of-the-holy-dick @fand0maniac @lovelyhexbag @shaylybaby2032 @soul-fandom Forevers: @heaven-hell-imagines @a-mess-of-many-fandoms @currentlyfangirling99 @bofa-deans-nuts @emiwrites3reads 

[giflinsky]

giflinsky’s gif tutorial

ok so !! before i start, a disclaimer: i do not claim to be a professional at photoshop or know how to do everything omg i know there are multiple ways to make gifs, but this is just how i personally learned how to make gifs from a mix of tutorials that i’ve found over the years

now onto the tutorial !! i’m gonna be gif’ing my baby ofc & here’s the end product

step 1: pick the video you wanna gif

usually i get my videos from youtube or instagram, especially since i mostly gif jack gilinsky & insta is where i get like 90% of his content from lol. for this tutorial, i’m gonna gif jack & jack’s day dreaming music video ok cool

i use keepvid to download youtube videos, making sure to get the highest quality available ( 720p — 1080p ) & that the format is mp4 

step 2: opening in photoshop

so i currently use photoshop cc, but i’ve used photoshop cs5 & photoshop cs6 to gif in the past. tbh i can’t remember the differences so i’m pretty sure the process is the same?? if not lmk

anyway so to import the video, go to file > import > video frames to layers 

upload your video & this thing will pop up

depending on the length of the video & what scene you wanna gif, you can either click from beginning to end or selected range only. if the video is 10 seconds or shorter i usually pick the 1st option, but since this is a whole music video & i only wanna gif one tiny part of it, i chose the 2nd option. either way, check the box for limit to every 2 frames (tbh i’m not sure what happens if you change the number; every tutorial i read just said leave it at that lol)

to clip the video to the part you want, use those lil’ sliders. it doesn’t have to be exact bc you can delete frames later

once you click OK, the gif should open in photoshop. make sure the timeline is open at the bottom & if it’s not go to window > timeline

step 3: trimming the frames

so since i imported some extra scenes from the video, there are frames that i don’t want in the gif. all i have to do is select the unnecessary frames & click the lil’ trashcan at the bottom

this next step isn’t really required, but i found that it helps load things faster ig? so i select all the layers in the right sidebar by using the shortcut option + command + a (control + alt + a on windows) then i press command + g (control + g) to group them together

then i click the 3 stacked lines button & flatten frames into layers so that it’s only the frames that i want

then i delete the original group bc i don’t need them anymore

step 4: cropping

it’s just like cropping a regular image. it depends on the video (i.e. if it’s horizontal or vertical) & you can do whatever you like, there’s really no rules? for this gif, i used the 2:3 ratio to isolate gilinsky’s face

step 5: resizing

since the video size is pretty big, i have to resize it to fit tumblr’s guidelines. these are the photoset sizes for 2019 for reference

i usually make my gifs a little bit bigger, for example i size up 268px to 300px. i don’t really have a reason lol i just prefer things a little bigger i guess? anyway so to resize, go to image > image size or the keyboard shortcut option + command + i (control + alt + i)

i made the width 245 pixels & it automatically set the height 

step 6: sharpening

this step is optional, but i’ve found that it can make a difference in quality a lot of times. i use this sharpening action. in order to use it, you’ll have to load it onto photoshop, so click the play button thing on the right sidebar or go to window > actions 

click the 3 stacked lines, go to load actions, then select the sharpening action i linked

once it’s loaded, make sure the 1st frame in both the timeline & layers are selected, then click play selection on the action bar & it will work its sharpening magic 

step 7: gif speed

after you sharpen the gif, all the frames should be highlighted/selected. click the drop down arrow next to 0.06 on any of the frames & some numbers should pop up

these are the options for how fast you want your gif to be. i usually use 0.08 seconds for gifs with more frames, but 0.1 seconds is a good general speed for most gifs

oh and make sure that drop down is set to forever, which loops the gif

step 9: coloring

this step is also optional. it’s really for aesthetic purpose, especially if the color isn’t to your liking

i’m not creative enough to make my own colorings lol so i usually use one of these PSDs to color my gifs. for this particular gif, however, i used this one. you can find a bunch of other PSDs just searching through the tumblr tags

i just open the file onto photoshop, drag the group over to my gif & it makes it pretty?

it changed the gif from this

to this

step 8: saving

your gif is made! now all you gotta do is save & you’ll be able to use it however you please. go to file > export > save for web

there will be another pop up window. these are the settings i have (based on the tutorials i’ve read). colors should be 256, but you can mess around with the selective and/or diffusion to see how your gif looks

the last thing to check is the gif size. i believe the maximum for tumblr is 3.00M? any larger & the gif will freeze

& that's all i have for y’all !! i hope this made sense omg i really tried to be thorough & provide enough screenshots but like tumblr made the quality booty so if you can’t see something or if you have any questions at all please feel free to send me an ask or hit up the IMs & i’ll try my best to help you out :) 

thank you to the anon who liked my gifs enough to request a tutorial, i really appreciate you & anyone who cares to like/reblog my posts !!

[jlf23tumble]

Fic rec anon here, and I'm blanking in the moment! I know you have a lot of recs and I love them all. Maybe your favourite AUs? Broadly speaking? Seeing some of them might help jog me into more specific categories ! xx

Gotcha, sort of like my prison rec list, only I like to think of it more in terms of what would I have on my phone to read when I’m bored and traveling, lol. Obvs, this sort of list is super hard, but having it focused on AUs kinda helps? At any rate, this isn’t a deep dive, it’s just my top level, so hopefully it’ll spark you. These are in no particular order, so come back if you want more!

Tuxedo Dress-Up, by Blake (honestly, ANYTHING in this fandom by Blake, I file this one under hot and hilarious, but every line is just swooooon). Louis is an aspiring song writer by day, a makeup artist for drag queens by night, and masquerading as a full-time real estate agent for his third most famous (and first most handsome) client Harry Styles.Or, five times they fail to fuck in a closet, and one time they get it right.

Once Upon a Dream, by objectlesson (again, ANYTHING by Phoenix, and most of it is canon, but where to even start with her AUs, jesus god, I struggled to rec just one, so I went with the AU she gifted me, ilu!!!!). “M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay.” Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

knock knock, i love you, by @thelovejandles aka beautlouis (another one of my fave authors in this fandom, proof that wips DO finish, and they’re absolutely worth it). Harry and Louis get kicked out of a statistics exam for passing a knock knock joke note, and subsequently fall in love. Harry's a virgin, there's a cat, a hot cocoa date, a lot of sex, even more knock knock jokes, and everything is lovely and happy.

Tied Down, by @ham-palpert (the twists and turns here, my goddd, just masterful) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. The investigation yields an unexpected yet satisfactory outcome for Liam and Niall. For Harry and Louis, however, things are far more complicated.

Alien Roadtrip! by @helloamhere (needs ao3 account; I love desert roadtrips, and this captures that vibe perfectly, plus it’s hilarious). For the first time in his life, Louis doesn’t know where he’s going. Harry doesn’t mind. Or, a roadtrip with desert feelings, too much snack food, and empty motels. Harry is definitely absolutely not an alien. That would be ridiculous.

Harry Styles Cooks..., by @magicalrocketships aka sunsetsmog (aka the very best wip on earth, I weep with joy whenever I get the notif). In which Louis Tomlinson can’t cook, there’s a very special shower curtain, and Harry Styles used to be a baker. Or Louis owns all of Harry Styles’ cookbooks, and he never intends to cook a single thing out of any of them.

just call me inspiration, by @hereforlou (in which I *am* Liam Payne, porn editor!) The truth is Louis knows he’s going to hell, if there is such a thing, but it isn’t because he writes erotic fiction for a living. If anything, it’s because his muse, the reason he’s inspired to write about people shagging in increasingly creative ways everyday, is the sweetest, loveliest, most genuine (and completely oblivious) future children-book illustrator in the world.

Buried Like Treasure, by @becomeawendybird aka quickedween (marcel marcel marcel!!!). Prince Harry Styles is very private. He chooses to keep himself out of the public eye but feels lonely and isolated while surrounded by people in his hectic royal life. When he finishes his dissertation, he decides to take a solo holiday to one of the royal family's properties in the Swiss Alps. Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

into another serotonin overflow, by @mercutionotromeo (this story packs a LOT into a little, it helped inspire my sideblog with smaller fic recs, actually). Harry's the yearbook photographer who's been assigned to take pictures of Louis, the new captain of the football team. Harry's got a massive, obvious crush on Louis and somehow, Louis feels the same way.

Turning Page, by @daisyharry aka purpledaisy (pretty much every on-set picture I see of Harry these days just makes me tag it for this fic). “You wanna buy Harry a drink?” Louis lets his eyes drip back to Harry, to his wide eyes and the way his shoulders curve down. He really is pretty – Louis will be the first one to admit it and the last one to ever say it out loud. Louis almost smirks and his lips twitch as he tilts his head, “Not particularly, no.” An AU where Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been. Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

hush. by wankerville (this story is achingly evocative of just about every shitty small American town, but my god is it beautiful, the sweetness of how it ends). “I don't like you like that, Harry.” “See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.” Or an AU where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

Three French Hems, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (I wish I could pick just ONE of my top three from these two, but alas...do persimmons smell like come? discuss).  In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

Thought the Song Was Sung, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (see above, pretty much, and how happy I am that the tweets still show up! with Dame Julie Andrews even!!). Louis never auditioned for the X-Factor. Years later, Harry's just another gay ex-boybander who lives alone with his cat... until Niall decides to take matters into his own hands and set up a profile for Harry on a dating website.

Wild and Unruly, by @gloriaandrews and @100percentsassy (Iconic, even the abstract is iconic, everything still holds up. oh for cute, etc. etc.). Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by loadedgunn (another one that inspired my sideblog dedicated to short fics! So much greatness packed in, Jesus, it’s in my top five for sure). Louis reenacts his first time, and Harry wants to be his good girl.

“burn this flame” by @rainbowninja aka rainbowninja167 (anytime I reread this, I smile...filed under hot and hilarious). When Harry gets invited to play in a celebrity charity match with Louis Tomlinson, Manchester United's star player, he's determined to impress him with brilliant football skills. The only flaw in Harry's otherwise foolproof plan? He has absolutely no football skills, brilliant or otherwise.

Challenging Nature: A Look into Male Lactation, by @jaerie (hands down, one of my fave kinks, handled fantastically well...and this isn’t the author’s only one!).  Even taking into account all the bizarre things Harry has subjected himself to in the past for the sake of an article, Harry has received his strangest assignment yet. It comes up as a random misunderstanding in a meeting and builds into a conversation — can men breastfeed? Internet searches reveal documented cases of male lactation popping up at different times throughout history, but are any of them true? Can a man will himself into lactating? Harry has two months to make it happen.

like how your hands feel me up and down, by ballsdeepinjesus (this author wrote a lot of my faves back in the day, I have so many ~thoughts about the amazing writers in this particular era). “It’s -- you’re tight,” Louis chokes. “It’s tight, I mean. It’s. Yes.” His hand is curved around his hip now, squeezing lightly. “Tight’s good, right?” Harry murmurs, batting his eyelashes. He almost can’t believe himself. “Very good,” Louis grunts. Or louis works in a halloween shop and harry needs a costume.

baby look what you've done to me, by ballsdeepinjesus (see above; even the username kills me). The next day kind of turns everything upside down, though. Louis gets another lingerie catalogue addressed to Harry. He’s about to toss it when he sees a personalized note stuck to the front; it thanks Harry for his previous purchases and offers him a complimentary six-month subscription to their magazine free of charge. Or louis moves into harry's old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.

Take Our Bodies Higher, by @littlelouishiccups (I’m something of a connoisseur of the phone sex trope, so the way this author flips it and makes *Harry* the operator plus what ensues? chef’s kiss!). Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that. In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

Make a Dime Go One Hundred, by @screwstyles (I’d rec this for their jobs alone, but everything in it, just wow). “Do you think you could trust anyone enough to have full control over you?” he asks into the night, hoping his sentence won’t break their bubble. It doesn’t, if the way Harry’s eyes meet his is any indication.“What do you mean?” Harry’s voice is barely above a whisper, rough from the singing they had done earlier. Louis wants to keep this memory forever.“You know, if someone wanted to, uhm,” he coughs, “to tie you up, or blindfold you.” Or a friends to lovers AU where Harry volunteers to help Louis experiment with bondage. Things don’t go exactly to plan.

it ain't trickin' if ya got it, by sarcasticfluentry (needs ao3 account; I often stare at the wall and wonder what another installment in this universe would be, fuckkkkk, it’s so good, I only wish the social media was still in it). 28-year-old blockbuster actor Louis Tomlinson rushes home to give his 20-year-old model boyfriend Harry a good seeing-to after a particularly provocative Instagram post and, in his excitement, alerts the entire world. Featuring daddy kink, anal beads, and feelings.

If You Asked Me if I Love Him (I'd Lie), by allyasavedtheday (needs an ao3 account; it’s a sequel, but I reread it over and over vs. the first piece).  Or the one where Harry and Louis eloped but neglected to mention it to anyone. Meanwhile Lottie is getting married and the only way for them to not steal her thunder is by pretending they're just friends for the weekend. Featuring Harry and Louis as terrible liars who don't know the meaning of the word platonic and some Tomlinsons and Styleses who definitely don't believe them.

Damn, I could go on, but I’ll stop! My sideblog dedicated to short fics is @marathonficbreak, and it has some smaller ones, if this is too intimidating, lmao...hope some of them are new for you, enjoy!

[cg29]

40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers.

Thank you to @soniabigcheese @gumnut-logic @onereyofstarlight and Anon for the ASKS you sent my way. Since I wanted to answer in detail, I’ve had more than 1 question, and I’ve not had a lot of spare time today I thought I’d answer all in this one post…

So first up @soniabigcheese sent me: ‘How about ... 9 ... 15 and 19? Please.’

9: Which fic has been the hardest to write?

All have been challenging in their own individual ways. Yet, really thinking about it I’d have to say GONE. For various reasons – It was my first Thunderbirds Fanfic, the longest story I had ever written, at this point the one I’ve had to do the most planning and research, and finally because of the emotions that needed portraying. However, the elation at finally finishing the story was amazing and has certainly inspired me to continue.

15: If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Oh my God, that would be amazing! I would definitely have to go for Bad Day (Virgil’s day keeps repeating. What will it take for it to end and a new one to begin?) I had so much fun writing this, it’s one that I’ve reread a few times since competing, and it still makes me giggle. I’m sure I’d be in stitches if I got to watch it on the big screen. Although due to some of the contents towards the final chapters it would definitely need a UK PG or 12A rating.

19:  Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

For Thunderbirds fanfiction my muse is definitely Virgil, The-Virg, It’s definitely his creativity and those eyes, plus that mouth, also those eyebrows, and his muscles… Sorry getting distracted – Actually, thinking about it, Virgil’s more of a distraction than a muse. Especially with my new mobile screensaver which I keep staring at.

Okay, back to the question. I don’t think I’ve got a muse – just a little voice in my head that won’t shut up when I have a story idea until I’ve written it down.

…

Next we have @gumnut-logic who asked: ‘Writer meme question thingy - 1 & 12.’

1: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

I always seem to revert to the family dynamics rather than a full-on rescue story (which is probably why I’m struggling with two of my fics which need to  have rescue bits written in) Basically, I love to go deeper into the descriptions of the physical/emotional whump, and how the family deal with the situation (hidden feelings, tempers, how they bond) during and afterwards.

12: Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Yes, for both TOS and TAG.

The original series: There’s a few – Terror In New York City (Yep, the beginning in particular) The Perils of Penelope, Sun Probe, The Uninvited, Edge Of Impact. After thinking long and hard to narrow it down I’d have to say that while Terror In New York’s my favourite. The Perils of Penelope inspired my naughty fic The Night of Anderbad (Penelope & Virgil pairing) plus the idea of Virgil having a secret crush on her in later chapters of The Tracy Family and a few other one of fics.

TAG: There are a few earlier ones which have inspired fics – Grandma Tourismo, Flame Out, Hyperspeed, SOS pt. 2, Signals pt. 1, Upside Down. There are probably others and these last few episodes have been really inspiring. However, I think I would definitely have to go for the more recent SOS Pt 1 & 2 and Signals Pt 1 & 2. (I’m sure the finale of Season 3 may change this answer)

…

Third we have @onereyofstarlight who asked: ‘2 and 37 for the ask meme.’

2: Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Yes, I would like to have a go at Were Virgil at some point. Also, would like to try doing the boys ages differently to see how the dynamics changed – Alan as the eldest, next in line is Gordon, then Scott in the middle with John then Virgil as the youngest.

37: Talk about your current wips.

Lol, I have a few so this could take a while :D

I will start with ones that I’ve posted on FF.Net & A03 (Probably also shared them here at some point.

1. Avalanche: TAG.

This story began as a prompt that suggested a story that begins and ends with the same line but the meaning/feeling of the line changes. I started it with the intention of writing just 1 chapter …hahaha… of course I ended the story on a cliff-hanger and couldn’t leave it there, so it’s been continued and I’m so glad I did because I personally feel it is nearing the top of my best written list. The story itself is set when the boys are just children and focuses on the tragedy of the Avalanche and the emotional repercussions. I’ve just reached chapter 14, and probably have another 2-4 chapters left.

2. Lucille: TAG

Synopsis - A story about the unseen woman who watches over International Rescue."I am a wife, I am a mother, and I am the one who watches over International Rescue, making sure I am there to catch them whenever they fall. My name is Lucille Tracy and this, well this is my story!"

A story told through the eyes of the boy’s mother. This is one that I keep stopping and starting, most likely because I hadn’t planned it out. It’s currently on-hold until I finish some others, but I will complete it.

3. The Games: AU - Thunderbirds Are Go mixed with the concept of the Hunger Games. (Although, only Thunderbirds characters will make an appearance)

Here’s my synopsis - Climate change, famine, war. In the end another major war lead to the richest creating the Global Defence Force and 'order' was restored. To celebrate and keep control the Hunger Games were created. This was the 100th games.

The fic started from the Whumptober Prompts and I decided to continue it, wrote half of the 2nd chapter then promptly forgot about it. I’ve recently been looking at this again and have started to reread The Hunger Games for inspiration. However, like Lucille this fic is currently on hold.

4. Virgil Drabbles: TAG.

Started out as a challenge to see how much I could get across in just 100 words. All chapters are based around the lovely Virgil - TAG (but with him being the middle child – started before the Grandma Tourismo episode and apart from a few fics where I write it the other way around I prefer it this way)

The story starts from Virgil’s birth and I’ve now got him attending Denver. I still have a fair few chapters to write but the rest is now all planned out.

5. Reflections: TOS.

Set after Virgil's crash during the Season 1 episode 4 of 'Terror in New York City.' Short reflections from each of the family on nearly losing a brother and son. (Previously Titled, Fallen Brother)

I had always wanted to write something based on my favourite TOS episode. Then Shane Rimmer passed away and this was inspired. Slow updates on this one but I’ve finished telling myself the story just need to edit/rewrite that into something coherent.

And now we’re onto the ones that I may have posted snippets for or just 1 section for on here, but nothing officially posted as yet.

1. Two Untitled Prompts: TAG.

Both prompts were given to me at the end of November and I actually wrote out both (Plotting, thoughts, and telling myself bits of the story) Then December knocked me sideways and my writing suffered. Back to working on these 2 again now and really enjoying them. Without giving to much away, the one features a heart-broken Alan and the other (which with Avalanche is at the top of my pile) features Virgil having a day from hell with added whump.

2. Two Whumptober Fics: TAG.

Posted 1 or 2 chapters for each of these back in October and decided that they could possibly be extended/completed before posting. (All short fics)

The first one is titled Coffee Shot: Virgil gets shot in a café and emotions will run high. Fully planned out but decided to finish some others before I continue working on this.

The second is currently titled Ransom and is set when the guys are children. Scott and Virgil get kidnapped – Only done some basic plotting for this and it’s currently towards the bottom of my WIP pile.

The third is untitled and at the moment my word file is saved under the imaginative title of ‘Virgil Whump’ (Posted 1 snippet that I wrote in 15 mins at the beginning of October then left it because of other projects) In this one the guys are all extremely busy with call-outs and Virgil needs to go to a rescue on his own that involves Fischler. Unfortunately he ends up getting trapped, injured, and because its Fischler left on his own. Fully planned out.

3. Working Title – Shattered Hope. TAG

A story idea that came to me over a year ago, written some short bits, planned out most of the story but because of one small element I need to wait until TAG Season 3 finishes.

Here’s a bit from it that did get shared to Tumblr…

‘How had it come to this?’

Just a short time ago they’d been happy, enjoying some rare downtime in the sun, five brothers together. It shouldn’t be like this… With him cradling one brother who was bleeding from a bullet wound after saving the youngest from certain death. The other two close-by. One with a dislocated shoulder, the other with a broken leg, he himself had a stab wound to his arm... All of them with numerous other injuries… Beaten, bloodied, bruised… And praying that someone would rescue them!

…

Fourth we have anonymous who asked for ’35, 38 and 39.’

35: Would you ever kill off a canon character?

I’ve killed poor Scott off a few times HERE ... HERE and another time as an old man where Virgil also got killed off. (The fic scarred me – But, at the same time I think it’s the best short I’ve written - It’s called White Light if you want to give it a read)

I’ve not killed any of the others yet, and I keep telling myself that I won’t do it again, but it will probably happen again at some point…

39: Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them? 

I’ve had a couple, but they are usually anonymous ones. I normally just delete them and move on because people like that have nothing better to do and are not worth any upset. But if it does affect my confidence then I’ll reread a couple of nicer comments, then when I’m ready I’ll continue writing. I think there was only one that really knocked me for six and that was an anonymous rant on my Bad Day fic because I’d dared to pair up Virgil and Brains. (I’m sure you can imagine the content)

38: Talk about a review that made your day.

Even though 38 comes before 39 I wanted to save this one for last.

Every single comment I’ve ever got. No matter how short or detailed has brought a smile to my face and helped inspire me to continue writing – If I had to single out one then it would actually be a private message that was sent to my Fanfiction.Net inbox. It was over 2 years ago and unfortunately I can’t find the message now but whoever sent it to me said that they’d loved my Fics, in particular Gone which they had read several times and that I was their favourite writer. I was beaming for weeks afterwards.

So, whoever you were thank you - and to all who comment, re-blog, like or kudos my stories. Thank you from the bottom of my heart… Seriously you all make this fandom such a lovely place to be!

All my current posted fics and their status can be found via my: Thunderbirds Fanfiction Masterlist 

[jenba]

Rockview Village

This is my attempt at a tiny house community for my Maristella project. There are four homes, each with a different theme and decor: the Avocado, the Llama, the Dogwood, and the Sunray. All of of them have a functional kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and dining area. Also, most of the homes have bookshelves, and some have a radio/computer/TV. There is a communal patio area with a grill, sink, and stereo.

The community garden has a variety of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and even some catnip. There are also some other harvestables scattered around the lot, including an avocado tree from Selvadorada. You may want to have one Sim devoted to gardening (or hire a professional gardener) to keep up with everything. You can also create a gardening club consisting of the village residents and have their sole activity be gardening, then hold a club gathering every couple of days to take care of gardening chores (I did this while playtesting and it worked really well!).

During my playtest, I used the door-locking feature of the game in order to keep the homes themselves private. To do this, select the Sim who lives in a particular house, then click on the door of their house and select "Lock Door for Household". Select the name of someone else in the household. This will keep them out. You have to lock the door for each person in the household, then repeat the process on the other homes (make sure you select the resident of that house before you start locking the door). It takes a little time to set up but once you're done, all of the residents will sleep/shower/etc. in their own homes but still mingle and cook food occasionally in the common area. (A kindly anon sent another tip for locking doors using the club feature - see this post.)

There's a lot of landscaping on this lot; I hope it doesn't lag for anyone, but if it does, try deleting some of the plants.

You may want to enable "bb.moveobjects" before placing the lot in build mode to make sure all of the landscaping stays in place.

You can find more pics in the Rockview Village tag.

CC-free

Lot size: 50x50

Cost: §189,676

Lot Location: “Affluista Mansion” in Oasis Springs

Required Packs:

EPs - Get to Work, Get Together, City Living, Cats and Dogs

GPs - Outdoor Retreat, Spa Day, Dine Out, Vampires, Parenthood, Jungle Adventure

SPs - Laundry Day, Toddler Stuff, Fitness Stuff, Bowling Night, Vintage Glamour, Backyard Stuff, Kids Room, Romantic Garden, Movie Hangout, Spooky Stuff, Cool Kitchen, Perfect Patio

To install, download the ZIP file from the link below. Extract the folder and copy its contents (there should be 6 files total) into your My Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Tray folder. 

DOWNLOAD ZIP file (SimFileShare)

**If you don’t want to install it using the Tray files, you can also find it in the Gallery under #jenba and Origin ID silrosse.

Enjoy!

[thefandomdirtymind]

Hungry Jealousy

Gotham 

Jeremiah Valeska x Reader 

Warning: Smut, jealousy, hickeys, unprotected sex.

Request: Anonyme: Jealous Jeremiah Valeska and Female Reader smut, please!

* I hope that you will enjoy it as much as I do and that respond at what you ask for sexy anon.

The files of the new project under your arms, you enter in the office of Mr. Valeska, the sound of your medium high heels beating the floor introducing you way before anything else, except the camera. 

Working as an interlocutory between the engineer and the outdoor world, you sometimes have to pass at the bunker to keep the man aware and make him sign some paper. Always nice and professional, Jeremiah listen to you and usually welcome the advice you often propose for the good of the current projet.

Standing at the end of his work table like usual, he was busy at drawing some complexe mechanic, making you wonder why he even bother to have a chair. Raising his gaze to meet yours, he gave you a politely nod of the head before leaving his work behind. 

“ Miss Y/L/N, good morning” He greeting you with a small nervous tone. You never knew why he always seem so nervous to speak to you , but, you guess that living hide like that with for only companion that emotionless woman is certainly a great reason. 

“ Good morning M. Valeska, I have some paper for you today “ You say, approaching the last clear place of the table. 

Displaying the paper, you give him space, adjusting your black and gray pencil skirt, your driving session for coming here had disturb. Busy with the piece of clothes, you didn’t notice the eyes of Jeremiah, lost in the perfection of your skin, giving you a head to toe look. 

“ You’re really pretty today, an occasion in particular ? ” He ask, passing one by one the paper like if he didn’t watch you like if you were a piece of art just few minute earlier. 

“ Thank you, I have a meeting at the office, as your representation, I though I have at least to be well dress.” You reply, looking at you skirt and matching blouse. 

“ You’re right” He simply reply, reading the footnote you had let to his intention in a file about a big project.

Standing in silence waiting for the signing paper, you jump a little when your phone start to ring, filling the quiet room with an orchestra memento. 

“ I’m so sorry, I usually close it before coming here, I just forget” You apologies.

“ That okay, you can answer” He retort.

Taking the call, you try to not disturb his reading. Finishing your discussion, you close your phone, letting it lost itself in your handbag. 

“ Who’s was it ?” Jeremiah ask, strangely curious and even moody.

“ One of the agent of Wayne entreprise. He say that the material will be there later in the day and we will probably start the preparation for the project.” 

“ And about that dinner I though hear ?” He continu, his tone now more tense, an emotion you never seen taking place on his face.

“ Oh, the man is a real flirt, every time we’re in contact he try to ask me out, today it was for a dinner” You answer back, not seeing the big deal. 

“ Do you consider to saying yes ? “ He finally ask, heading to his personal mini bar, the paper forget. 

“ I don’t know” You reply, a bit confuse 

Drinking is glass, he approach you, giving you goosebumps. You always though that your boss was gorgeous in his nerdy kind, but, with his angry look he was hotter that ever.

“ What do you waiting for, this man clearly want to stealing you from me, professionally or personally ” He tell, his mood worst that you ever seen. 

“Nobody will steal me. I mean, that man isn’t my type at all. He’s almost brainless and only think about how many woman he can put on his bed. I prefer a man who’s kind and use his brain for good. More a man...like you” You finish. 

A deadly silence fall on the room, break by the empty glass of scotch Jeremiah put on the table. Reducing the distance between you he taking your waist in his hand. The jealous rage was still on the surface, telling him that other could possibly hit on you soon and make it lose you. 

“ When do you see that Wayne agent ?” He whisper, pulling you closer.  

“ This afternoon, at the office meeting, but I refuse his invita...” You didn’t finish your phrase, his mouth, warm and demanding was on yours, his hands exploring your back.

At first surprise, you respond quickly to his kiss, passing your hand on his neck. Slowly for not break your embrace, he make you step back until the lower of your back find the border of the work table. Then, he easily sit you in it, pushing away the now uninteresting paper.

“ I want to show at this man that you already below to me, I want to show it at every man who will put their eyes on you, all this perfect skin and so brillant mind, even your bright smile is mine” Jeremiah say, making you discovers another part of his personality, a jealous and possessive part.

Playing at the same time with the sensitive skin of your tight, pushing slowly his hand inch by inch under your skirt. He start to kiss your neck, going down on your throat. Eyes close, you try to regulate you breath, feeling your panties, now partly expose and frame on each side by the hand of the man, becoming wet. The first hickey, well executed in the sensitive skin of your left boob, make you jump and moan a little. 

“ If he see this one, I will be really angry” The voice of the man, deeper by the desire and his face bury on your breast say. 

“ He will not see it” You swear, lifting you pelvis to help him to removing your underwear. 

“ Good, then, I will have to mark you again and again “ He reply, catching you lips for another kiss,throwing your panties somewhere in the room.

Hand shaking of excitation, you pull away his jacket, reaching fast the long trail of small button closing his shirt that you remove one by one. The action, usually easy, was a bit more difficult with the fact that your mind was totally focus on his long finger, slowly pushing and pumping in and out of your pussy. But, you finally succeed to open the piece of clothes, giving you access to his bare chest. In the same time he reach your clits with his thumb, starting a series of delicious small circle. 

“ Oh god” You moan, feeling the pressure rising in your belly and his mouth leaving you a more visible second hickey on you neck.

Removing his finger of your now so sensitive vagina, he help you to get ride of your last piece of clothes and his, by the same time. Once totally naked, he couldn’t help himself to look at you, sit and spread in that table he love so much, already hot for him, a fresh new mark of his at only few centimeter of your tits.

Pulling you closer of the border of the table, he take your legs in his hands, holding them firmly in the air, creating the perfect angle for pushing himself easily inside you. 

“ Jere...miah “ You moan, biting you lips, when he try to find the good rythme for making both of you climax. “ Jeremiah, ooh !” 

“ Hearing you saying my name like this is even better that when you calling me M. Valeska “ He say, accelerating the cadence, his breath fast and his finger bury in the skin of your leg. 

Moaning of pleasure, you let yourself go against the wood of the table, biting you lips. 

“ Say it again, scream my name again” Jeremiah demand, pushing harder in you, making you arc your back. 

“ Jeremiah ! “ You scream, feeling the pressure in your body building faster. “ Again, please again !” You almost cry. 

But, your wish isn’t granted yet. Stopping the movement, frustrated you for a short time, he help you without a word to get off the table, guiding you to the tall leather chair where he make you kneel, offering him your back. Press against you,his hand around your stomach and the other covering one of you boob he introduce his cock in you again, letting you breathless. Standing like that, you could feel him filling you completely. Picking a fast rythme who’s almost drive you crazy, you could feel his hungry mouth letting a trail of love bite on your shoulder and the side of your throat. 

Inside you, the pressure was beating like a second heart, almost ready to break you in a million piece of pleasure. You could heard, by his fast breathing and low moaning that Jeremiah was close too, even if his pounding didn’t lost a bit of intensity. 

“ Y/N...Y/N “ He moaning on your ear before pushing his pelvis hard against your ass.

The pressure inside you, break like a huge wave, giving you a devastating orgasm. Holding you firmly when you was shaking and moaning his name, like if your life depend of it, he kiss your back,maintain the in and out, driving him more and more close of his own release.

When the wave caught him too, letting you both shaken, he smile at you, his usual mood back. 

After a well earned shower, you both came back in the office, watching the mess you primal desire had make. 

“ Well I will have some clean up to do but it worth it” He say, reaching a sign paper on the floor, searching for the file to put it back. 

Smiling, you pick up as much paper you can, trying to not forget any important form for your meeting later. Once the file are complet and sign, you clear your throat. 

“ I think the meeting will be greet for both compagnie” 

“ I agree” Jeremiah said, his gaze looking at the few hickey you hadn’t cover with make up. “Come back tomorrow for inform me of how it goes “ 

Nodding of the head, you smile when your eyes fall on the mark you have yourself made on his neck. 

“I have to go, but, Jeremiah” You start before he kiss you goodbye. 

“ Huh ? “ He reply, lost in the feeling of your lips. 

“ Never throw away that chair”

“ Never make me jealous again or I will tied you up to that chair ” He reply, amuse, kissing you one last time.  

Your skin cover of goosebumps and hickeys, you came back to your car, feeling your body hot like a fever for the second time that day.

Tag :  @joker-valeska-twins @crimsonredcoco @badlikecaffeine  @jawavoncherie @riddlesonriddles

[valhallansim]

Answering Asks Backlog pt. 1

For the next couple of days I’m going to be emptying my entire ask box of all the asks that have been left sitting since I’ve been away for a while. If your ask was not answered after I’m done with all of them (I will announce when we’ve come to the end) your ask was either a request, a suggestion or eaten by Tumblr. If it’s not a request or suggestion, please feel free to send again!

If you want to blacklist these posts, please tag ‘valhallan backlog’!

Answers under the cut.

1) Every game is different and it's not possible for models/textures to be extracted from every game. Some game are easier than others - your best bet is looking on deviantArt for 'XNALara' or 'XPS' conversions if you have no idea how to convert things yourself. XPS is a program that lets you pose characters and create scenes - a lot of people convert models from various games to XPS, which can be used to convert into the Sims. There is a special addon for Blender that allows you to open XPS files directly into Blender, which you can then use to convert onto a Sims' body (or in the case of buy/build: convert it as an object).

If you are planning to do the extracting of models (taking the models and textures out of the game) yourself, you're going to have to research on how to do that for the game you are planning to extract from: it's different for every game out there.

As for the process on how to convert things from start to finish, your best bet is really the Sims 4 Studio forums. They have hundreds of tutorials that can help you with what exactly you are looking for.

2) @paarthunaps Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy them. I'm definitely on my way to making more tattoos, since I know so many people love them.

3) If you are talking about the skin she has in HOTS, then yes! Eventually.

4) Sure, I've been looking into that idea for a while and might whip up something in time for Halloween. I'm glad you like the decals!

5) If you are referring to the models I use for my preview pictures, then I'm going to have to disappoint and say that I won't be sharing her. Pretty much all of my models are the same exact Sim, just modified to fit the particular preview I'm working on. I'll not be sharing her since she's pretty much the only model I use, and not really a 'Sim' in the way that she has a personality or something.

6) Thank you so much for the kind words! They mean a lot. ♥

7) @wondergalastudios I've done a handful of commissions, but it highly depends on exactly what you are looking for. If you can send me a little message, I might be able to help you further!

8) Thank you so much, I'm so happy you like them!! ♥

9) @femme-finale PRETTY AND TERRIFYING is all I've ever wanted for people to feel when dressing their Sims in my CC. Thank you so much!

10) @bubblegumburton You are not bothering me, but this is a very frequently asked question that I have answered multiple times in my WCIF tag! Please take a scroll through there and you will find it.

11) Aaaaah that's so nice to hear!! I feel humbled whenever I hear of tons of people using my CC and talking to their friends about it. Thank you so much, I'll keep at it!!

12) Hi dear! Thank you so much for the kind words!! The lip-line tattoo is from Get to Work, actually! I might do some recolours soon, since they don't come in an awfully lot of options.

13) I would, but I made S76 as a joke, actually, haha! I never saved him, but I might consider remaking him just because I know a few people would love to have him in their game.

14) @plurnbobs Thank you so much for the kind words, you are too nice!! ♥ Your best bet is indeed the WoW Model Viewer, which is still being updated! It might not look like it since the banner on the website still says WoD, but if you go to downloads you will see the latest update, for example, was this month. I just export the models I want to use as .obj, and go from there. Hope that helps!

15) @nympharia LMAO yeah. My Sims pretty much only look good with certain poses, because the default Maxis goofy faces they make when just in CAS, for example, make them look really stupid. It's pretty hilarious :")

16) @strongheartmaid Thank you so much! I love my queen. ;v;

17) It's the Vellichor hair by WMS! You can find it here.

18) And I love you! Thank you!!

19) @selfproclaimedunicorn Ugh me too lmao. I get so offended when people call young!Hanzo ugly in-game because he is my son. I can't wait to finish him and Genji and have him up for download for you guys. Thank you!!

20) Aw, don't feel bad for feeling shy!! I do not mind anons at all. Thank you so much for the kind words and being an absolute sweetheart by linking people my work, thanks!! ;v; ♥ I hope you and your guild have lots of fun in both WoW and the Sims!!