#but 93 years is a good long life

[storyweaverofgondor]

James Earl Jones

Jan 17 1931 - Sep 9 2024

Rest in peace, good sir, and thank you.

[inkskinned]

i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.

my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.

but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.

oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.

you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.

when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.

oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.

[mamawasatesttube]

So I know you’ve mentioned it before but I just wanted to hear again your thoughts on Tim x Ives

ooohohohooo timives the gently doomed romance of it all ♥

in robin '93 and even briefly in rr09 ives is just always kind of there. he drifts out of tim's life sometimes, but he always drifts back in, later. and he's been tim's civilian best friend for so long, and tim knows so many of his secrets. they click. they don't judge each other. they make each other laugh. if tim's gonna fall for anyone he knows in his civilian life, of course it would be ives. who else has been there, been a constant, the way ives has? of course it's ives. but at the same time there's something so tasty about their contrast - the way tim runs headlong towards danger every time, while ives describes himself as a coward. the way tim feels like he has to protect him.

to me, ives is tim's first m/m relationship. it happens in a manner so cliché they both laugh at it: after taking a gap year or two, to wrangle his depression and his ptsd and his Everything, tim decides to get his ged and maybe try college (lucius tells him he'd make a great engineer at waynetech r&d, but he needs a degree for it, and he figures, okay, what the hell, he's already good at tinkering, how hard can getting a bachelor's degree in engineering be?). and then he remembers the difficult thing about being a vigilante and having a full courseload at the same time and goes AUGH. and ives, a year or two ahead of him in university classes (and majoring in something else, but still there) laughs at him. and offers to tutor him. and tim goes yeah fuck okay fine sure yeah. what the Fuck is a free body diagram. and ives laughs at him some more but also really does help him out. (when he gets really stuck and confused, especially on his second semester of chemistry, he phones up zoanne, but that's neither here nor there.)

so tim and ives have this cute little romance over study dates at cozy cafes, over accidentally running into each other at a queer student association meeting and going "oh!" about it, over movie nights at ives's apartment where they squabble over a bowl of popcorn and tim pretends he didn't sleep through the last half of the two towers, disc 2. and it feels nice, and easy, and simple...

...until it doesn't. because tim shows up to a study date with a black eye that even his best attempts at makeup can't fully hide. tim has to miss dinner, and then their rain check dinner, and only comes to the third attempt half an hour late and limping. tim is tired all the time. and he's always been sleepy all the time, but now ives is wondering. and they're making out one day and ives's hand curls over the back of tim's neck and then he recoils, because tim, what is all this scarring, what happened, holy shit is this why you grew out your hair and keep wearing turtlenecks?!

and tim goes. ah. fuck.

and it's only a matter of time. it has only ever been a matter of time. because ives knows him. but he's been lying to ives the entire time they've known each other. the other shoe has always been going to drop. it was only ever a question of when. never if.

so ives finds him out. and he's shocked, and hurt, and betrayed, but then he's even more distraught to realize that he's not that shocked. it makes sense - why tim's always tired, why tim has always been kind of flaky, why tim has always had weird injuries now and then, why tim is so unbothered in the face of things that terrify ives. but what gets him is that these are things he's thought were always just... tim. because tim has been lying to him the entire time they've known each other.

so they break up, but it's softer than it could've been. because ives gets it, he swears. he gets why tim lied. but this is... a lot, and he needs some time to process all of it, and how he feels about it, and about tim. because it's hard to reconcile his goofy gearhead (ex-)boyfriend with a caped crusader who patrols the city by night, fighting crime and solving mysteries. hard to realize just how much tim has boxed up his own life and taken care to only ever let ives see part of it. he gets it - he's not angry, after the initial outburst - but it's hard, and he needs some time. he needs some space.

and so tim's secrets eat away at one more person he cherishes. it was inevitable. they were doomed from the start. but they made each other happy anyways, for a time.

(the coda, to me: tim and ives reconnect and start working on their friendship again a few months later, and tim promises to try not to lie to him anymore, and in an effort to actually show ives the other half of his life, he introduces him to kon. so we have tim sitting there struggling with feelings and complications of feelings and what it means to be honest and to be seen. meanwhile kon says something about his opinions on star wars and ives goes "BRO i am going to KISS YOU on the MOUTH" and tim goes wait. WHAT?)

[minniesmutt]

I saw your asks are open, idk if you are still taking rq for this or not https://www.tumblr.com/askgametime/705287969574158336?source=share but if you are can you do

11, 13, 29, 42, 50, 61, 79, 93. With Seung?

🌷

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPTS: 11; DP/TP/SPITROASTING 13; ROUGH SEX 29; CRYING DURING SEX/ EMOTIONAL SEX 42; MULTIPLE ORGASMS 50; TENTACLES 61; OVERSTIMULATION 79; CUM INFLATION/BELLY KINK 93; ANAL SEX/PEGGING ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ASTRONOUT!READER, ALIEN!SEUNGMIN, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, MONSTERFUCKING, BREEDING, ROUGH SEX, STRENGTH KINK, NIPPLE PLAY, TENTACLES, FINGERING, SLIGHTLY SADISTIC SEUNGMIN, PRIMAL PLAY (?), SPIT-ROAST/TRIPLE PENETRATION/ DOUBLE PENERTATION, ORAL (M.REC), UNPROTECTED SEX (ANAL + VAGINAL), DACRYPHILIA, CUM INFLATION (MORE SO DESCRIBED AS A FEELING THAN IT BEING PHYSICAL), MULTIPLE ROUNDS, OVERSTIM, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CLIT PLAY, ☾ ━━━ WC: 2K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     How Y/n’s ship had made it out of the Milky Way was a miracle to her. What wasn’t was a crash landing on an exo-planet. She had zero clue if it was even safe for her to be here until she met Seungmin. He looked human but she learned quickly he wasn’t. Nonetheless, she still trusted him. However, she didn’t feel like she had much of a choice at this point. 

     Seungmin gave her a place to stay and managed to learn her language easily. She learned she’d landed on the planet called MIROH. Something she didn’t know on earth. Meeting his friends whom he threatened swore to secrecy. Not trusting many other people on the planet when it came to other species. Y/n didn’t mind staying in his home much. He was clean and he helped her adapt while she tried to figure out how she was going to get back home.

     His friends had taken a look at her ship with her and they’d concluded that it was fixable but it was going to take some time. It was damaged from its travels— most ships from Earth didn’t last long past the Milky Way galaxy. So she was here for a while.

     The eight aliens—or was she the alien now?— were great company in all honesty. But when you lived with one for so long and he was better than any other man she had met on earth, things were bound to happen. 

     After a good year— in MIROH’s orbit, not Earth orbit— of living with Seungmin, she’d come to realize she had developed feelings for him and she did her best to hide it since she could be leaving at any moment to go back home. But as the year dragged into the next, it looked less likely that she would be home on earth anytime soon. So, MIROH started to become her home and she became okay with having feelings for her roommate. 

     Seungmin on the other hand, had had an inkling of his feelings for her since he found her crashed ship. And like her, he kept to himself since she could leave at any moment and only acted on them when it appeared clear to him and his friends that her going back to Earth was highly unlikely. And if it weren’t for Jisung’s loud mouth, he would have kept them a secret too.

     But seven months after the incident, he was glad his friend had said something rather loudly.

     “Morning,” Y/n kissed her boyfriend’s cheek as he was making her a cup of coffee— or as she described it, coffee adjacent.

     “Morning,” He smiled as he turned and pulled her to him. Y/n smiled and wrapped her arms around him

     “Oh! Can I ask you a question?”

     “You just did but I’ll give you a second one.”

     “Haha, very funny. I was talking with Hyunjin yesterday��”

     “Terrible idea.”

     Y/n glared at him for a moment before continuing, “Anyways. He asked about our sex life.”

     “Why?”

     “Specifically about something I didn’t know you had.”

     “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He did. But he was deciding the best way to bury his friend’s body at the moment

     “Were you ever going to tell me you had tentacles? Or a breeding season?”

     “You’ve lived with me for two years and you didn’t know I had a breeding season?”

     “You were not around much when it occurred.”

     Seungmin sighed, “I was going to tell you eventually but I know it’s not something you’re used to and I didn’t want to scare you away.”

     “Min, respectfully, where am I going to go?”

     “I guess you’re right. But it’s still a lot more than what we do now.”

     “Well, tell me about it.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “Yep,” Y/n reached behind him, grabbed her cup of coffee, and dragged him over to the couch. Making him tell her every detail of it.

    His species breeding season was a few weeks away so they’d planned to just lock themselves away in the house until it was over, most of the aliens on the planet did anyways so it wouldn’t be weird. Seungmin had gathered supplies before the season started— most of which he had in the house anyway. He honestly wasn’t too sure how this was going to affect Y/n. He’d unfortunately heard from Chan and Minho that their species females were hyper fertile during the season so he didn’t know what to expect from his human girlfriend.

    Once the season changed, Seungmin felt it. They were up late again, Y/n was in the kitchen fixing something to snack on when she heard a loud groan from the living room. “You okay Min?”

    “No,” he groaned

    “What happened?”

    “It started.”

     It took Y/n a moment to remember what he was talking about. At first, she questioned if the men of MIROH got periods but then she remembered. Breeding season.

     “Come here, please,” Seungmin called.

     Y/n put her snack in the fridge and joined her boyfriend in the living room, at least for a second. Seungmin had stood quickly and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

     “Minnie!” She squealed, surprised by the strength she didn’t know he had to begin with.

     “Sorry,” He mumbled as he got into their bedroom. Practically throwing her on the bed.

     Y/n’s face grew warmer at the action. Watching as he stripped away his shirt and pinned her to the mattress, lips immediately attaching to hers. Y/n moaned into his lips as his hands pinned her wrists down to the mattress. Y/n was so used to him being more on the softer side, only sometimes being a little harder— explaining it linked to his species’ tendencies. Now she knew it meant their breeding season.

     Seungmin’s lips moved down to her neck, giving her a quick warning about his tentacles before two appendages were snaking up her shirt. They felt warm, not slimy like the movies on Earth would describe them. Though they were strong. They managed to tear her shirt off her and then wrap it around her breasts. Kneading them and playing with her nipples.

     “Min,” Y/n moaned as she arched into him

     “Fuck, you sound so good,” Seungmin moaned as his hands moved down from her wrists to pull down her bottoms and underwear. Getting rid of both pieces in one go.

     His middle finger slid inside her, pumping in and out of her. The two appendages that were on her breasts moved up and wrapped around her wrists. Holding her down against the bed as he marked up her neck, finger pumping in and out of her.

     “More,” Y/n whined

     “Yeah?” Seungmin teased as he slipped another finger into her. Y/n moaned in reply before he pushed his lips back to hers. Tongue finding its way into her mouth and twirling around hers. 

     His fingers moved in and out of her as she tried reaching for him. Needing to hold him but the tentacles holding her wrists kept her from doing so. Seungmin smiled against her lips, feeling her struggle against him. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed hold of her hands. Y/n laced her fingers with his as his tentacles moved and pushed down his pants and boxers. Y/n barely noticed until the appendages spread her legs. Seungmin pushed himself right against her. 

     Y/n moaned against his lips as he ground against her. Tentacles holding her legs open before they flipped her onto her stomach. Seungmin’s hands were on top of hers and kissed down her back. 

     “I love you,” Seungmin mumbled

     “Love you too,” Y/n mumbled 

     She felt two more warm—slightly wet— tentacles on her body. Prodding at both her holes. Y/n moaned as she pushed back against him. Seungmin smiled as one pushed into her cunt. Listening to her moans. The slipperiness of the tentacle helped slide in easily, the other tentacle worked slowly past the tight rim of her ass. Y/n moaned and squeezed around him. 

     Seungmin mumbled praises into her back as both slimy appendages made their way into her. Her fingers tightened around his before he pulled her head up with one tentacle. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” Seungmin commanded. 

     Y/n opened her mouth like he said to and a tentacle slipped down her throat. Y/n moaned around the appendage as the one inside her pussy started moving slowly out to push back in her. The tentacle in her throat moved with it. The only one staying still was in her ass. Seungmin still letting her adjust to him being in there. 

     Slowly the pace picked up a bit and the third one joined in. Y/n moaned as tears pricked her lash line. Seungmin held onto her hands as he mumbled praises into her back. Somehow she felt the tentacles getting deeper in her with each thrust. She felt him everywhere. In parts, she didn’t know that could be reached. It made her eyes almost roll back. Her jaw relaxed fully, hearing the noises that came from the tentacle fucking her throat. 

     “Fuck,” Seungmin groaned. One hand went under her and rolled her clit. Her walls tightened around him as he stimulated the little bud. Her moans were silenced by the appendage in her throat. His fingers worked quickly on the bud as she tightened around him more. Her hips started to buck erratically against his hand as he kissed her shoulder blades.

     She felt warmth in her throat as she was about to tip over the edge. Warm and sweet. Y/n’s eyes rolled back as her orgasm hit while he was filling her throat with his cum. Seungmin groaned behind her as the other two tentacles released his load into her. Pushing deep inside her and letting the cum fill her. Y/n moaned as she came down from her high while the tentacle left her throat. She caught her breath as Seungmin held her close to him.

     “Minnie.” Y/n’s voice was hoarse.

     “Sorry. It’s gonna take a minute,” her boyfriend told her

     She could feel the cum making its way into her. After a couple more moments, he pulled out of her and turned her around, laying her on her back and pushing into both holes again. 

     “Min!” Y/n gasped

     “Gotta make it stick baby,” He said as he started thrusting into her. “Gotta fill you up.”

     Y/n threw her head back as the tentacles kept her arms and legs pinned to the bed. Not letting her move her limbs. She felt another on her clit. Sucking on the bud as Seubgmin held onto her waist with his hands. Watching the tears fall from her lashline from the overstimulation. He did not know how much she could handle but he was almost blinded by the need to breed.

     “Minnie! I’m gonna cum!” Y/n cried out

     “Cum. Cum all over me baby,” Seungmin groaned

     He watched her hand clench and her limbs spasm slightly. Feeling the familiar warmth of her cum coating his cock as he started picking up his pace. Fucking her through the high then pulled her closer to him as he fucked her to his second high. Wrapping his arms around her as the two tentacles pumped into her before burying themselves deep in her again. Seungmin held her as close as he could as his cum filled her

     “Min,” Y/n mumbled

     “I’ve got you,” Seungmin kissed the side of her head

     “Sleepy,” Y/n groaned

     “I’ll clean you up when I’m finished then we can go to bed.”

     Y/n nodded and weakly wrapped her arms around him. Once he finished, he took her to the bathroom, getting both of them cleaned up and redressed.

     “Feel okay?” Seungmin asked as he got her in bed

     “Full,” Y/n grumbled

     “Oh baby, we still have a whole month left.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

☾ ━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @lakoya @lilyuwon @caitlyn98s @puppyminnnie @gimmeurtummy 

@innieandsungielover @rylea08 @20crowsinahoodie @kpopsstuffs @moonlight-the-writer 

@seungmonggg @fearnotfimmie @the-sweetest-rose @stars-garden @bandolls 

@asahisimpnation @vegetablesarefuntables @bl00dyv3inss @avyskai @kangyeonie 

@ninisoul-space @dessianna1 @aaliyaoaoah @palindrome969 @realrintaro 

@tinyelfperson @minhwa @redstayrosie @caravm @armystay89 

@skzhoes @kiko-o-luck @cookiesandcreammy @alice-went-away @boldy-49 

@rockstarkkami @wh0re4mingi @rhonnie23 @hrskt @emollvvr-blog 

@tinys0ftie @soulphoenix1618 @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @nahitzstacyy @palindrome969 

@thatgirlkay @borahae-reads @vuodbdks @linocvp1d @chartrucewhore 

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[bullet-prooflove]

One Night: Donovan Rocker x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mirabee @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @one-sweet-gubler @victoriajhyde @telepathay @@winterrosies-blog @@mah2101 @avillagesperson @irishavengersassemble @crimeshowjunkie @haielsker-93 @whateversomethingbruh @watashiwasun @burningpeachpuppy @slytherqueen14 @brownskinbaby22 @lady-athanasia

Companion piece to Reputation

You’ve ruined Donovan Rocker for anyone else. He realises that after the first night you spend together. It’s the most debauched night he’s had in his life, and it only continues the longer this thing between the two of you goes on.

With Val his sex life was vanilla, missionary once a month on date night. They’d tried a few other things, cowgirl, doggie style but Val liked what she liked, and he accommodated her. He’d had a couple of dates after the divorce, but they weren’t anything special. They’d helped him blow off a little steam, but they were nothing compared to the shit you get up to.

He thinks trust is the reason it works so well. It’s long established, he’s known you for a couple of years at this point. You’re on different teams these days. He’s a Sergeant on 50 Squad and you’re on 20. He thinks the fact you’re on the job gives you unique insight into why he is the way he is, why he craves the things he does. There’s no judgement from you when he asks for something a little intense, he’s discovered you like to play and explore as much as he does.

The only problem is, you treat this thing like it's casual, for Donovan it’s anything but.

You’ve given him a wild ride tonight, hand on his throat as you fuck him within an inch of his life. When you squeeze just right, he arches up into you, a moan tearing from his chest. When you come, you take him with you, dragging him over the edge as his cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink.

He’s barely had time to catch his breath before your slipping out from underneath his sheets. You scoop up your vest top from the floor, tugging it on over your curves so that it falls mid-thigh. His hand captures yours, tugging you back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Stay a little.” He requests.

“Donovan…”

He adores the way you say his name. He’s always been Rocker until that night in Noche, and now he’s Donovan, the man that loves you more than life itself.

“We’ve talked about this.” You remind him as he shifts into a sitting position. His hand comes to rest on upon your shoulder, his thumb skirting over the nape of your neck. Its an intimate little gesture, an admission that he wants more from arrangement the two of you have.

“We have.” He agrees as his lips follow suit, his heated mouth ghosts up the curve of your throat, his arms wrapping around you and drawing you back into the shelter of his body. “But what’s wrong with this?”

“Donovan…” You chide.

You’re giving in though, he can tell. It’s in the way you lean back into him. That smile on your lips as you let out that laugh, the one that makes his world just a little bit brighter. He’s found that ticklish spot just under the hinge of your jaw and now, he’s exploiting it.

“Stay.” He whispers into your ear.

“Just tonight.” You tell him. “Only one night.”

***

The problem is once you break one rule, it becomes easier to break the rest.

You’ve always had a reputation as the good girl. You follow orders with precision, you always play it safe. You’re solid, dependable. You’re also sleeping with a fellow officer, something that no one would ever suspect. You’ve always had a rule about dating cops, the first thing you learn as a woman on the force is not to fall into bed with a colleague. You’ve never had a problem with it until that night at Noche, the night Donovan walked into the bar where you played violin and saw the real you, the one you’ve kept hidden from everybody else. You’ve always been attracted to him but there was something special about that evening, you were coming off the high of performing and the way he looked at you…

You’ve never wanted someone so much.

It was meant to be a one-time thing but Donovan, he captivates you. You’ve always had a fascination with the edgier side of things, it’s the reason you dress the way you do when you play, it brings out the bad girl, the person you don’t get to be on SWAT. Donovan embraces that side of you, he understands it because deep down the two of you are exactly the same.

Which is why you stay over that night, because truly the two of you have something special. You just don’t want to be the woman that other cops think is fair game if things go sideways.

It doesn’t stop you from staying over on a regular basis, from kissing him goodbye on the doorstep when you leave. You go out for breakfast at the café around the corner, try to outpace each other during your morning run. When you’re sick, he comes over, takes care of you because he can’t stand the idea of you fending for yourself.

It becomes a full-blown relationship without you even realising it until one night you’re changing out an ice pack because he got clipped during an op. He takes it from you, hissing through his teeth before he places it upon the space where the bullet struck his vest. It had been close today; Stevens had told you when they’d gotten back to headquarters. It had freaked out his entire team.  It had scared the hell out of you.

“I love you.” You tell him, your thumb ghosting over his cheekbone as he looks up at you.

He reaches for your free hand, a smile playing across his lips as he pulls you down into his lap. Your thighs hug his hips, his fingertips brush a stray strand of hair back behind your ear as he looks into your eyes and says.

“I love you too.”

Love Rocker? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Rocker? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[literaryavenger]

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Summary: You're part of the Strike team and join Captain America as he tries to live his new life in the 21st century. [Reader is NOT Hydra]

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Rumlow being a dick. Mentions of death. My poor attempts at being funny. Idk, everything else in the movie?

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: Happy New Year! This the first chapter in a new series I'm starting! I'm not sure how long it's gonna be yet, but I know it's gonna be longer than Broken. These series is about an alternate universe where the reader exists and lives through the events that happen in the MCU. A lot of the details will be changed to insert the reader, a lot of the lines said by other characters will be changed to be the reader's and I've also made up a lot of things and scenes and added them, trying my best not to change the official timeline and the main events. I hope you enjoy this and all chapters to come!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“You heard the boss, newbie, text Romanoff and tell her to pick up Rogers.” Rumlow taps his knuckles twice on the table for emphasis before getting up and exiting the conference room.

You make sure he doesn't miss the way you roll your eyes at the now old nickname before writing ‘New mission, need you at the jet in one hour. Asshole wants you to pick up the old man in spandex’ on your phone and sending the message to Natasha, then you get up and make your way out of the room.

“Armory.” you say as you enter the elevator. 

“Confirmed.” the elevator voice says as the doors start closing. 

You suit up for the mission just assigned by Pierce and go to the jet to start doing the checkups you know the rest of the idiots on the STRIKE team won’t even think about doing. 

After making sure everything’s ready and in order, you can do nothing more than wait for everybody else.

Natasha and Steve get there exactly an hour after your text. 

“Right on time.” you point out.

“It wasn’t a coincidence, YLN.” Natasha smirks, making you laugh.

“Cap.” you greet him with a smile that he returns. “Y/N.”

The rest of the team meets you a few minutes after. “Ready for take off.” Rumlow says to the pilot and the jet takes off.

Once you get close to the target Rumlow starts briefing Steve and Nat. “The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago.”

“Any demands?” Steve asks.

“A billion and a half.” Rumlow answers.

“Why so steep?” Steve questions frowning.

“Because it’s Shield’s.” you answer promptly, ignoring the scowl on Rumlow’s face that disappears almost immediately.

“So it’s not off-course,” Steve says, understanding flashing in his eyes as he glares at Natasha “it’s trespassing.”

“I’m sure they have a good reason.” Natasha offers.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of being Fury’s janitor.”-Steve seems really annoyed now.

“Relax, it’s not that complicated.” Natasha simply says.

“How many pirates?” Steve’s attention is back on the screen.

“Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy. Georges Batroc.” Rumlow pulls up the photo of Batroc on the monitor and looks at you expectantly, making you roll your eyes.

Of course you’re the only one who actually looked through the files.

“Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol's Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions. The guy’s got a rep for maximum casualties.” you fill everybody in, although it was obvious most of the guys aren't listening. At least the Captain is.

“Hostages?” Steve questions you, but Rumlow cuts in.

“Mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell.” he shows his picture. You’ve seen Sitwell around headquarters, he seems pretty close with the STRIKE team. Not that you hang out much with them outside of mission, or at all for that matter. “They’re in the gallery.”

“What’s Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” Steve asks more to himself, and he has a point. “Alright, I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat and Y/N, you’ll kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pots, get ‘em out. Let’s move.”

Yep, he’s definitely in Captain mode.

“Ay ay, Captain.” you salute with a smirk that mirrors Natasha’s while Steve gives you a fake annoyed look.

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap. Gear up.” Rumlow says but you’ve already started getting ready and stopped listening to him.

“Secure channel seven.” Steve says into his wrist communicator.

“Seven secure.” Natasha replies. “Did you do anything fun Saturday night?”

“Well, all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so… No, not really.” Steve answers, making both you and Natasha laugh while the pilot lets you know that the drop zone is coming up.

“You know, if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she’d probably say yes.” you point out, exchanging a knowing glance with Natasha.

“That’s why I don’t ask.” he fires back

“Too shy or too scared?” Natasha pushes.

“Too busy!” He yells over the wind as the door opens and then he jumps. 

You and Natasha both roll your eyes and look at each other smiling, not needing to talk to understand the other.

You barely register Rumlow and Rollins commenting on Steve jumping without a parachute before grabbing one for yourself and jumping alongside Nat.

You and Natasha have known each other for a while now, all the way back since she was first brought in by Clint.

You trained with both of them, went on countless missions together (yes, including Budapest) and you would’ve been right by their side in New York if you hadn't been on an important undercover mission and had strict orders directly from Fury not to blow your cover.

After that you got assigned to the STRIKE team by Alexander Pierce, though you still have no idea why. But orders are orders so you’ve been working with the idiots ever since.

But you and Natasha are thankfully still pretty close and your down time is spent mostly with her, sometimes also visiting Clint and his family at his farm.

 Nat’s still annoyed at Clint about naming his only daughter after you, middle name but still, and not her. But to be fair, you have known Clint longer, a fact that always amuses both you and Clint to bring up.

You’ve just landed when you hear Rumlow saying “you seemed pretty helpless without me” to Steve.

“What about the nurse who lives across the hall from you?” Natasha says.

“Yeah, she seems nice.” you add.

“Secure the engines, then find me a date.” Steve says in his captain voice.

“We’re multitasking.” Nat tells him before turning to you. “you take port, I’ll take starboard and we’ll meet at the rendezvous point”

“Copy.” you say and make your way to the engine room on the right side of the ship. You start taking down guys and can hear Rumlow saying they’re ready in position.

Just as you finish with the last guy you hear Steve calling your name. “What’s your status?”

“Port engine room secure.” you answer.

“Good, make your way to help Rumlow with the hostages.”

“Roger that.” you can almost hear him groan in annoyance as you smile while following his orders.

“Natasha, what’s your status?” you can hear her grunt while she fights through the comms. “Status, Natasha?” 

“Hang on!” She says as she keeps fighting. “Starboard engine room secure.”

You hear Steve countdown from three and then the team moving in on the targets, you get to the rendezvous point just in time to see Rumlow rounding the corner with the hostages on his tail.

“Hostages en route to extradition.” he says in his comms as you look around for Natasha.

“Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.” you let Steve know while helping take care of the hostages.

“Natasha, Batroc’s on the move. Circle back to Y/N and protect the hostages.” he receives no answer and at this point you get a little worried. “Natasha!”

You want to go looking for her but you know better than to leave your post, and you’re also very aware that Natasha can take care of herself. 

So you keep protecting the hostages while listening intently to the comms where you can hear Steve fight, then you hear a voice you assume it’s Batroc’s talking French and are even more surprised to hear Steve answer back in French. Impressive.

You can hear him fighting again and then you finally hear Natasha’s voice but don’t pay too much attention to the conversation, bringing your entire focus on the hostages now that you know she’s okay. 

You’re helping people into the life-pods when you hear an explosion go off somewhere on the boat. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you hear Natasha’s voice again and let it go, feeling even more relieved after hearing Steve too.

The ride back is very uncomfortable as you help Natasha with the minor injuries from the explosion, Steve refusing help and insisting that he’s fine, and in the mood he’s in you’re certainly not about to argue. 

As soon as the jet lands he stomps away angrily and you share a concerned look with Natasha, worried about what he’s gonna do next. 

You help Nat to the medbay and leave her there when she assures you she’s okay and to not make a fuss over her.

So you make your way to the usual conference room for debriefing but when you get there Rumlow very smugly assures you that you’re not needed at this meeting. 

You’re used to being left out of meetings with the STRIKE team and Pierce by now, since you’ve been forced to join you’ve been left out of more meetings that you’ve attended, but it still bothers you sometimes.

Still, at least you don’t have to spend too much time with those neanderthals. Not your circus, not your monkeys.

So you just make your way to the Armory to put away your gear and then the locker room to change and go home for what you think is gonna be the rest of the day.

-

A few hours later you find yourself in the hospital where the STRIKE team has been called in the middle of the night because, guess what? Someone tried to kill Director Fury. Or, as it turns out, succeeded. 

You’re behind Steve, Natasha and Hill alongside Rumlow and Sitwell, watching Fury flatlining and the doctors calling it.

You want to go with Nat to see Fury, be there for her knowing she cared about him as much as you do, but obviously Rumlow has to be a dick and order you to stay put. And, whether you like it or not, he’s your boss.

He rudely interrupts Nat and Steve’s conversation telling him they need him back at headquarters and you can already tell something’s suddenly off.

As much as Rumlow can be an asshole, he’s never been openly rude towards Steve.

You can hear Sitwell in your earpiece telling the team to bring Rogers in for questioning as he and Rumlow get closer.

“STRIKE, move it out.” he orders but you don't start moving until Steve’s by your side, giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile. 

When you get to the Triskelion Steve is taken to Pierce’s office and you get ordered to go to Forensics and check into the evidence found on the roof, then go to Operations Control and wait for there for further instructions, so you do. 

When you get to the control room you see Sitwell concentrated on a particular screen so you get close trying not to get noticed and see Steve fighting STRIKE and SHIELD agents in the elevator. 

You barely have time to understand what’s happening before he’s throwing himself off the elevator and lands on his shield near the entrance of the building. Thankfully Sitwell’s “Are you kidding me?” covered your quiet “holy shit.”

You’re in the room when Sitwell gives the orders to track down Rogers to all the Agents and when he’s done, you discreetly follow him and the rest of the STRIKE team out the room.

For a bunch of guys who work for a top secret organization they sure suck at knowing when they’re being followed. 

No one talks until they get to a deserted corridor. “Pierce is going to kill us. Rogers has the flash drive and can use it to find Zola. You fucked up big time letting him go.” Sitwell sounds pissed.

“Take it easy, four eyes.” Rumlow sounds just as angry “You’re not the one that got punched by a supersoldier.”

They keep talking about the flash drive and Steve and Pierce and Zola. That name sounds familiar but you can’t remember for the life of you where you heard it from.

Then it hits you.

Zola was a former Hydra scientist from World War II, turned ally when the war ended. Thank god the Howling Commandos were hot so you actually paid attention during that particular history class. 

You're about to turn away so you won’t risk getting caught eavesdropping when you hear your name being mentioned.

“Someone should keep an eye on her.” Sitwell says, making you worried of becoming the next Shield target, but Rumlow proceeds to ease your worries.

“That’s a waste of manpower. The whole reason she’s even on our team was so we could keep a closer eye on Rogers, but she just spends all her time with Romanoff.” 

So that’s why Pierce assigned you to the STRIKE team.

Yeah, you’re closer to Steve than most people but it’s not like you’re best friends, you sometimes hang out outside of work but most of your interactions are mission related.

You decide you've heard enough to kind of put together what’s going on, but there’s not much you can do to help Steve yet, not knowing where he is. So you stick to following the STRIKE team, praying that your absence in the control room goes unnoticed. 

STRIKE gets a hit on Steve’s location and you follow them in your car to a mall but think better than to follow them in, waiting patiently outside. 

After a few minutes you see Steve and Natasha in their not so well thought out undercover outfits and, once again, the Captain surprises you by hot-wiring a car. 

You follow them, more discreetly this time, knowing Natasha and Steve would be better at realizing they’re being followed. 

You get to an old army camp in Wheaton, New Jersey and are about to follow them in and make yourself known to them, but before you can get out of your car you hear the plan the STRIKE team has through your comms.

The idiots never even thought about using a different channel. Of course Rumlow would underestimate you this much. 

So you decide to drive deeper into the trees surrounding the camp to make sure you’re not visible and wait, knowing Steve and Natasha will need a fast getaway. 

You can do nothing more than watch as a missile hits the bunker and the helicopters start coming. You want to go and help them, make sure they're okay, but you will yourself to stay put and not give away your position. 

When you can faintly see Steve’s figure, almost running with what looks like Nat in his arms, you finally turn the car on and drive coming to a stop right in front of him and startling him to a stop on his tracks.

“Get in.” you urge him, and he seems wary of you, rightly so. “Come on, Cap, they can’t know I’m here!”

He seems to decide to risk trusting you and delicately sets an unconscious Nat down in the back seat before getting in the passenger’s seat.

As soon as his door is closed you drive away as fast as you can, heading back to Washington and you can feel Steve’s eyes on you.

“How do I know I can trust you?” he finally says after a minute of silence, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re part of them, after all.”

“I can see where you’re coming from, but trust me I’m not one of them.” You glance at him and you can tell that he’s not convinced yet, so you go on. “I didn’t even know who ‘them’ were before today. Apparently the reason Pierce assigned me to the STRIKE team was in hopes to get closer to you. He overestimated how close we actually are. If Natasha was awake right now she would tell you how much I hate working with those assholes… You can trust me.”

You take a look at the rearview mirror and see Natasha, but her relaxed face does nothing to ease your worries. 

Steve seems to pick up on your concerns as his features soften and, ever the hopelessly optimistic, he chooses to believe you.

“Okay,” he says, “what do we do now?”

“We have to get you somewhere safe” you check your mirrors as much as you can, making sure you’re not being followed “I don’t know any safehouses outside of Shield's radar. We need a place we can go that they know nothing about.”

“I have an idea.” he says, you glance at him and see him already looking at you, so you nod.

[pokemonshelterstories]

How do competitive battlers afford to care for and handle these big, dangerous Pokemon?

I saw a tournament recently in Alola where one of the competitors was using a Dondozo, and I can't fathom how hard it would be just to keep a Pokemon fed every day let alone everything else that goes with Pokemon ownership!

i'm actually taking a course on this topic next semester, so i've gotten a headstart on my readings haha.

so this is an issue that is actually a pretty common complaint about high-level battling. while it's true that a very skilled trainer could theoretically compete at top levels regardless of which pokemon they use, the truth of the matter is that almost all champion-level trainers who have been entered into a hall of fame come from upper-middle to upper class families.

there's a lot that goes into training pokemon from an economic perspective. part of this goes into the sheer amount of money it takes to provide for the average pokemon. while many regions are fortunate enough to have free pokemon center access and subsidized preventative/emergency care, there is still a cost associated with veterinary care for pokemon. there's also the matter of feeding, providing proper enrichment, maintaining a suitable environment, grooming...in paldea, it costs about ₽150000 a year on average to keep a maschiff in good condition just as a pet. this cost only rises as pokemon evolve and get bigger, have more intensive care needs, and eat more. if you have, say, a garchomp? you're looking at closer two million poké a year WITHOUT accounting for the extra expenses associated with raising a battling pokemon. most people can't afford to maintain that.

of course, that's just for providing for the pokemon's physical needs. it doesnt take into account things like having the time and money to travel to competitions, or learning how to train a pokemon not just for obedience but for battle. being able to spend hours a day training or to go to a trainer's school or a battle academy just isn't feasible for most people. in galar, where all gym challengers have to register ahead of the season and it's therefore possible to keep track of how many reach the end, data shows that roughly 78% of challengers fail to earn their 3rd badge, and 93% fail to earn their 6th. battling is hard- i'm an expert in pokemon training, and i'm still not very good at it- and there's absolutely a socioeconomic hurdle to competitive training. which stinks, because there's a lot of prestige tied to things like entering the hall of fame, and there's definitely an aspect of judgment in some pokemon training circles if you don't battle.

sorry for going on so long about that, haha...i have a LOT of feelings about competitive battling (especially looking at official pokemon leagues). while im thankfully in a good place financially now, there was a time in my life that i was couch surfing, and i could barely afford to keep myself fed, let alone a pokemon...i can't imagine how it would feel like to be a kid who wants to battle but can't because they don't have the means.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hello :) if your requests are still open:

This is my first time requesting something so please ignore this if I‘m doing something wrong.

I saw the 150 Random Writing Prompts and was thinking of a jealous Hunter smut. (Or Echo, if you find it more fitting)

With

143.: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

And if it’s ok ( I could not decide, sorry)

97.: if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

93.: say you want me, and i’m yours.”

Thanks 🙏🏻 You are an awesome writer!✨

Thank you so much for the request, anon! You did nothing wrong at all! I was able to work in all three, but I’m incapable of writing anything short, so this is kinda long - oops. Hope you like it! <3

Bonus point if you spot the Taylor Swift lyric I managed to weave in!

Green Doesn’t Suit You

With the whole squad safely back on Pabu, you settle into a comfortable civilian life. But the yearly Celestialis festival, said to bring good fortune for the next year to those who attend, brings with it something you never thought you’d have.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 6.5k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: jealousy, friends to lovers, pet names, old lady shoving her oar in, Omega is a fantastic wing-woman, confessions of love, first kiss together, squint for possessiveness, being (lovingly) manhandled, first time together, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, soft aftercare, all the fluffy feels.

The air was stifling, not only from the heat outside but the warmth emanating from both ovens in the kitchen of your new home on Pabu.

The house had been a gift – the fanciest gift you’d ever received – from Shep and the other island residents. A thank you for all the hard work you, the boys, and Omega had put into rebuilding their island after the freak tsunami.

All seven of you, living together in a space infinitely bigger than the Marauder or your old barracks. It was heaven.

“We still need to get those tanks moved.” Omega grumbled, grabbing a clean tray and loading it with the latest batch of cooled cookies you’d made. In the sitting room, just visible through the kitchen doorway, were two bacta tanks. Where Phee had managed to procure them from was still a mystery, but they’d saved Crosshair and Tech’s lives after you, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker had stormed Mount Tantiss to rescue Omega and the twins. The brothers had been worse for wear – it was still a miracle Tech had survived his fall.

“I’ll speak to Phee in the morning.” You added it to your mental list, skirting around an open cabinet door.

Today was the Celestialis festival, where Pabu’s residents came together to wish for good fortune for the year ahead. Once Shep and the island’s organising committee had caught wind of how good your baking skills were, they’d pulled you into the fray. For weeks, you’d been planning and purchasing ingredients and trying different recipes. And for the last few days, you’d been baking all hours of day and night – with varying levels of assistance from Omega and her brothers.

Four years ago, when the war had broken out, you’d signed up as a civilian handler. Fresh out of college and with nothing lined up, it had seemed like a good idea. While other handlers stayed on Kamino and supported their squads from a distance, the moment you’d read the files for Clone Force 99, you’d known that you’d need to be at their side constantly. They had a habit of veering off track, and handling that from afar would only give you a permanent migraine. So, after signing a hefty waiver with the Kaminoans, you’d been handed some armour, a blaster, and directions to the hangar.

Three years, you’d fought alongside them, learning the best ways to manage them and their unique skill set, building bonds and friendships far deeper and more meaningful than anything you’d ever had before. This last year, since Order 66, had brought its own challenges, too, but it has also brought you Omega.

Grabbing another tray from a cupboard, you pass it over to the young girl, watching as she loads it up with more cookies. Sweat beads on the nape of your neck, and you sigh, lifting your hair to try and get some air to it.

Omega, forever perceptive, abandons the cookies to help tie your hair back. From a small pot on the counter, she goes to grab a hairband, but at the last minute, you redirect her to the strip of fabric that sits nearby, the two of you sharing a look.

It’s another hour before you’re ready to leave for the festival. The boys had headed out mid-afternoon to help set up, taking their dressier clothes with them to spare themselves the walk back to the house and to not get in your way as you finished up. As infuriating and stubborn as they could all be at times, their thoughtfulness was unparalleled.

Dragging wagons laden with treats up to the central plaza, you and Omega work quickly to lay out all the goodies on the tables Shep had set aside for you. You hoped there would be enough for everyone, especially as other food was on offer, too. Stepping back from the tables, you take a deep breath.

“Finally left the kitchen, eh?” Echo teases as he approaches, the rest of the boys in tow. He’d tried to help as best as he could over the last few days, but baking with one hand had been less than ideal. Ultimately, he’d sat at the kitchen table and kept you going with conversation and caff breaks. And he’d chased Hunter off a few times when that keen nose of his had brought him sniffing around for treats to ‘sample.’

You watch as Omega passes a star-shaped cookie over to Wrecker, and the delight on the big man’s face as he devours it fills you with pride. “If I step foot in that kitchen again at any point in the next two weeks, please shoot me.” You joke, the corners of your lips curling into a smile.

“Deal.” Crosshair teases, toothpick sliding to the other side of his mouth as he reaches for a Roonan lemon cookie. His appetite hadn’t returned much since his rescue from Mount Tantiss and time in the bacta tank, but he was trying to eat a little more each day so you wouldn’t worry about him.  

“Hey!” You protest playfully, the boys chuckling as Crosshair takes a small bite, throwing you a wink. Light conversation flows between you all, broken up by the occasional island resident swinging by for some treats. The music starts, and more residents arrive, joining the festival’s spirit, dancing together and laughing.

Hunter can’t keep his eyes off you. For the last four years, he’s seen you in blacks and armour, with the recent addition of sweatpants around the house, and yet now you’re in a dress. A light and airy thing with delicate straps that cross over your shoulders, the fabric cinched in at your waist to accentuate the soft curves of your body. He’s sure it’s the same shade of aqua that paints his pauldrons, too. The thought has a strange sensation sweeping through his gut.

The sound of someone calling your name snatches his attention and drags his thoughts back to the present. As you turn towards the person calling for you, he can’t help but steal the opportunity to admire you. Eyes raking up your bare legs, across your hips and ass that he’s imagined grasping many times, over the smooth plane of your back to the curve of your neck and then…

The entire galaxy might as well cease to exist as his mind goes blank.

Wide brown eyes lock onto the scrap of red fabric keeping your hair up, and that strange sensation in his gut slams into him again. There, holding your hair up, is one of his spare bandanas.

His heart races, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. A torrent of emotions surges within him. He wants to reach out to you, to pull you close and finally tell you how much you mean to him, but he holds himself back. He can't bear the thought of you not returning the sentiment. Maybe it had just been an accident. Maybe his bandana had been the closest thing available.

In the silence of his thoughts, he missed you excusing yourself to talk with one of the island’s elderly residents, who’d been calling you over.

“Smooth.” Crosshair deadpans, gaze flicking to Hunter as they watch you go, the rest of their siblings distracted by the food and music.

The slink of his brother’s voice pulls Hunter from his thoughts, and he frowns in Crosshair’s direction. “What?” He asks. They’d worked hard to reconcile ever since Crosshair had been deemed stable enough to leave the bacta tank – they’d broached difficult topics and mended a few bridges as they worked towards getting back to what they’d had before the Order had been given. It was slow and, at times, painful, but neither of them was willing to give up on each other again.

“You were staring at her like she’s pure aurodium. Not that I blame you…” Hawkish eyes slide towards Hunter, a smirk tugging at Crosshair’s lips as he watches his brother’s jaw clench and his head tilt, a hardness settling across his features.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, enjoying the slight rise he’d secured. “Green doesn’t suit you, vod.” He tosses the comment before snatching up a few more of your baked treats, striding away in search of a quiet place to perch. Crowds still bothered him, but he didn’t want to avoid the gathering altogether and feel like even more of an outcast.

Across the plaza, you’d reached Mrs. Magiere. The elderly lady had lived on the island for years and had slowly convinced her family to move across the galaxy and join her. She wandered the island around lunchtime, and you’d often crossed paths, sharing polite conversation.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar man. “There you are, dear. I want to introduce you to my grandson, Dax.” Mrs. Magiere reached for your hand, drawing you closer.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dax.” You offered the man a smile. He was a little taller than you, with a slender build, perfectly coifed brown hair and piercing green eyes.

Dax tries to keep his gaze on your face, but his eyes betray him for a moment as he takes all of you in. You’re quite lovely, he must admit. “And you. My grandmother speaks very fondly of you.” He replies.

Mrs. Magiere looks between you both with glee. “Why don’t you two go and dance? My old bones can’t keep up anymore.” One of her hands finds your lower back, and she gives you a gentle nudge towards Dax.

Warmth sweeps across your cheeks caught off guard and a little uncomfortable, but Dax offers you a reassuring smile and his hand. Not wanting to cause a scene or upset anyone, you take it, letting him lead you towards the plaza’s centre where couples and families are dancing. He stops en route, snagging a delicate pink flower from one of the blossoming vines nearby. With careful hands, he slides it into your hair, leaning back to admire you.

“And here I thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.” The compliment comes naturally to Dax as he retakes your hand, leading you to a small available spot amongst the dancing island residents.  

The warmth in your cheeks grows, and all you can offer Dax is a small smile as he twirls you into his arms once you are amongst the crowd. Laughing softly, you let him lead, the few dance classes you’d taken at college helping you keep up with him.

“You did a wonderful job with the baked goods.” Dax lays another compliment on you, enjoying your bashful smile.

It felt good to be appreciated for all your hard work preparing for this evening, especially by those outside of your little family. “Thank you. What did you like the most?”

Turmoil rolls through Dax. Truth told, he hadn’t sampled any of the treats you’d so lovingly prepared, but he knew it was essential to compliment you. “The oat ones were delicious.” He takes a stab in the dark.

Your smile falters briefly before you fix it back into place. “I’m glad.” You lie in return, not pointing out that you hadn’t made oat cookies.

Standing off at the side of the plaza, it took no time for Hunter to find you amongst the crowd. Over the years, he’d memorised the sound of your heartbeat and the delicate whisper of your voice as the light breeze carried it to him. His eyes found you, and his brows furrowed as he watched you gracefully twirl in the arms of another man, a torrent of emotions churning within him. Jealousy, like a venomous snake, coiled around his heart, injecting poison into his every thought.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The woman he loved, whose smile could light up his darkest days, was now smiling at someone else. Insecurity gnawed at him, an unpleasant feeling he thought he’d long buried during his cadet days.

He longed to be the one guiding you across the dance floor, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the galaxy. The realisation that someone else was experiencing that privilege grated on him.

“I don’t like him.” Omega’s voice snapped Hunter from his spiralling thoughts, and he glanced down to see her standing at his side, her own eyes watching you and the unfamiliar man dance.

“Hm, neither do I.” Hunter comments, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you twirl again.

It was no secret to Omega how much you and Hunter loved one another, and she was getting tired of neither of you doing anything about it. “Then, why don’t you go dance with her?” She asked, injecting as much innocence into her voice as she could muster, wide eyes turning up to look at her brother.

Hunter sighed. Omega had a point – he could quickly end this torture.

“Mind if I cut in?” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice interrupted your dance, and you turned towards him, offering him a bright smile.

The smile Dax had been wearing dissipated, a faint clench to his jaw as he shook his head while the music changed to something softer. “Not at all.” He lied, taking his hands from you. His grandmother had told him about the man who’d interrupted, with half of his face shrouded in darkness, and had warned him that you were close. Not willing to go easily, Dax lifted one of your hands to his lips, holding your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the back of it before stepping away a small distance. He’d wait nearby for another turn.

Your bright smile turned a little uneasy as Dax pressed a kiss to your hand, but relief had your shoulders sagging as Hunter stepped forward, sliding one arm around your waist to pull you close, your hand resting on his shoulder. He took your other hand with his free one, fingers interlacing. “Thank you for the save.” You murmured gratefully, knowing that with his hearing, you didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard above the music.

“Always.” Hunter’s answer leaves no room for doubt as he gently leads, moving you both in a slow sway. He can’t help but revel in your closeness. Every touch, every brush of your hand against his, feels electrifying, making his heart race with desire. Your warm body is pressed to his, his senses overwhelmed with you.

Warmth and security flood your body with the press of Hunter’s hand on your lower back, igniting a desire to be even closer. The rest of the galaxy can’t reach you here, tucked safely in his arms, and for a moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything that’s happened over the last four years – all the pain and bloodshed, all the horrors and tears. Through it all, Hunter has been a steady presence.

As you sift through the good memories, certain moments stand out. There was that day at the lake on Kintan, where the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The two of you had sat side by side, another successful mission under your belt, your laughter dancing in the air. You remember stealing glances at him, the way the sunlight had caught in his eyes, adding more warmth than you thought possible to those endless pools of brown.

Then there were the late-night conversations while you were deep in hyperspace, where you’d lose track of time, sharing dreams, fears, and secrets. Hunter’s voice, soft yet determined, painted a vivid picture of what he wanted from life after the war.

You could only hope those wants had changed.

Hunter drew his senses in, letting the crowd in the plaza fade into the background as he focused on you, the steadiness of your heartbeat, the feel of your hand in his and your bodies pressed together, and the subtle change to your scent. “You smell different.” He comments, curious eyes finding yours.

“If anyone else said that to me, I’d stomp on their foot.” You laugh, a little caught off guard by the statement. “I…” You trail off, the warmth that had faded from your cheeks now returning. “I stopped wearing perfume while knee-deep in the war, but now we’re out the other side of it. I thought I might try it again.” You admit, head dipping bashfully, before worry laces through you. “Is it too much? I aimed for something I hoped wouldn’t bother you and your senses.”

Lips parting at your answer, Hunter blinks with disbelief. Here you were in a sweet little dress, one of his bandanas keeping your hair up, and now you’d dropped on him that you were wearing a perfume picked out with his heightened senses in mind. He groans, desire churning through his veins. “Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” 

Freezing, you think for a moment that you’ve misheard him. “What?” You question softly.

Hunter realises his mistake, but it’s too damn late to take the words back. 

In the following pause, neither of you moving, simply staring at one another, Dax spots his opportunity and steps forward. “Can I cut back in?”

Hunter has to actively stop himself from grunting in frustration at the interruption. “We’re not done.” He tells him politely, making sure to keep his eyes on you. He knows he has to say something to you. “Cyar’ika, I…”

Dax huffs, finding it unfair that this man had swooped in and stolen you mid-dance and refused to let him back in. “Look, bud-“

Something snaps in Hunter, and his head whips to the side, eyes narrowing at the man you’d been dancing with. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help the Maker…” He growls out the threat, no longer caring that he’s being rude. This was too important. You were too important.

Your jaw drops, and you watch in disbelief as Hunter threatens Dax. Your heart races, and for a moment, the tension in the air is palpable. Dax, a bit taken aback by Hunter’s sudden intensity, raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, whoa, man.” Dax stammers, realising he’s pushed Hunter’s patience to the limit. He steps back, allowing some space between him and the seething clone.

Hunter takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, regaining his composure. He turns back to you, his eyes softening as he tries to find the right words. "Cyar'ika, I'm sorry. It’s just... I need to talk to you.”

Your heart still races, but now it’s not just from the tension between the two men. You look into Hunter’s eyes searchingly. “What is it?” you ask, your voice filled with concern.

Keeping hold of your hand, Hunter leads you away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner of the plaza where you can talk in peace. The silence lingers for a few minutes as he struggles to find the right words, scrubbing his free hand over his face, having never anticipated this moment would come. 

Unable to bear seeing him so stressed, you step closer, resting a hand against his chest. His heart thuds heavy under your palm. “H…” You breathe the little nickname you’d given him shortly after joining them all those years ago, which breaks him out of his funk. 

“You’re a kaleidoscope of everything beautiful in this galaxy.” He blurts out, catching you off guard. “Your kindness, the way you listen, how you look after everyone around you — you’ve had me captivated since the day you waltzed onto the Marauder like you owned the damn thing and introduced yourself. And now, it’s terrifying to think of my life without you in it.” Once the words start, he can’t stop them.

“And I know we’ve been friends for years, and I value that more than anything in the galaxy. But seeing him dance with you and thinking of him doing it again…” Hunter huffs, trying desperately not to get worked up. “I mean, cyar’ika, the colour…” He gestures to your dress with his free hand. “And you’re using my bandana to keep your hair up, and you picked out a perfume with me in mind...” He trails off, knowing he’s shared so much that he can’t return from it, but Maker does it feel good to get the weight off his shoulders.

A small smile weaves onto your lips, even though you know you shouldn’t be happy, given the man you love is clearly stressed. “What if I told you none of it was accidental?” You murmur, your hand on his chest smoothing across the firm plane of muscle. “That you didn’t misplace your right pauldron the other week – I borrowed it to colour match. And I purposefully asked Omega to use your bandana earlier when she was tying up my hair.” You confess, eyes darting up to watch as surprise paints itself on his handsome features.

“You know, I’ve spent countless nights replaying moments in my head, wondering if you ever picked up on how my heart races when you’re near or how I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re together. I didn’t want to make things awkward or ask for something neither of us could give in the middle of a war. But we’ve made it out the other side, so…” It’s your turn to trail off.

Your words hung in the air, and Hunter’s heart began to race, his body swirling with so many emotions it was difficult to grasp onto any of them. A rush of warmth surged through him, from the tips of his fingers to the depths of his soul. Gazing into your eyes, all he finds is pure, unwavering honesty. Your sincerity was a balm to his fears.

Hunter’s silence unnerves you, but you’re not backing out now. Not when the promise of something so much sweeter is tantalisingly close. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.” You whisper.

Hunter’s gaze never wavers from yours, and a flicker of relief crosses his eyes as he realises that this isn’t a cruel joke or an illusion. It’s real. The tension between you seems to crackle with anticipation as he takes a deep breath, finally finding the words he’s been searching for. “I’ve wanted you since the day you walked onto the Marauder.” He admits softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “I’ve tried to be strong, to protect you and the rest of the squad, to not let my feelings get the better of me. But I can’t deny it any longer. I want you with every beat of my heart, every breath I take.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity of his desire in the way he holds you and the way he looks at you. There’s no turning back now.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Hunter leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into obscurity, and it’s just the two of you finally giving in to the magnetic pull that has existed between you for so long. The kiss is a promise, a declaration of all the unspoken feelings and desires built up over the years.

As your lips parted, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged with emotion. “I want you, and I’m yours.” He whispers, his voice filled with love and longing.

A radiant smile spreads across your face, and you reply, “I’m yours too, Hunter. Always.”

His smile matches your own as he pulls back a little, though his fingers remain on your face, now stroking across your jawline. “Want to get out of here?”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you nod. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Hunter’s eyes twinkle with excitement and relief as he takes your hand and leads you away from the plaza, slipping down side streets towards your home. As you walk hand in hand, you can feel the electric connection between you two, a spark that has finally ignited into a full-blown flame.

Halfway there, Hunter pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tucks you against the side of a building, his lips finding yours. His kisses are hungry, filled with longing and desire, as if he’s been waiting forever for this moment. And in truth, he feels like he has.

As the kiss breaks, your laughter echoes in the stillness of the night, smile as bright as the stars above as he disentangles from you, drawing you out of the shadows and back towards the house. As you reach the front door, he stops, his free hand moving to your hair, plucking the flower from Dax free. Carelessly, he drops it to the floor.

“Hunter!” You exclaim, watching the delicate bloom hit the pebbled path beneath your feet.

Something dark shines in his eyes, sending a thrill through you. “The only things in your hair should be my bandana,” his hand reaches for your ponytail, giving it a gentle tug as he leans in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Or my hands.”

Breath catching, Hunter’s lips meet yours for a passionate kiss. The front door is pushed open, and you’re guided inside, steady hands grasping at your hips as he kicks the door shut behind you both.

Heart thudding as both of Hunter’s hands cup your face; you sink into his touch as his tongue slides between your lips, tasting you. He leads you up the stairs, refusing to break the kiss for even a moment as you reach his room. One hand leaves your face to push the bedroom door shut, and a moment later, you’re pressed up against it, Hunter’s body pining you in place, an arm resting on the door above your head, caging you in. That earlier sense of safety creeps back through you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Hunter’s chest heaves with each breath, a fire licking its way through his veins as you both open your eyes, gazing at one another for a split second. His head dips, mouth leaving a trail of delicate kisses along your throat, groaning as you tilt to give him better access, the prettiest moan sliding from your lips as he laves a kiss to the juncture where your shoulder and neck meet, following it with a quick, gentle nip.

Knees shaking, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until you can push the fabric off his body. The rough pads of his fingers drag across your bare thighs, breath stuttering as the hem of your dress meets his grasp. He breaks contact just long enough to lean back and lift the garment over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck…” Hunter curses quietly, eyes roving over your exposed body, the curves and dips of your frame, the swell of your bare breasts. A needy groan escapes him as he realises your panties match the dress, too.

Before self-consciousness can creep in, he’s dragging you to the bed with a hungry kiss, pushing you back onto it, kiss breaking as your back meets the soft mattress. For a moment, you both pause, drinking the other in. There’s a wildness in Hunter’s eyes you’ve never seen before, a warmth in your cheeks at how his eyes devour you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times – while sparring or coming out of the fresher, changing, or patching up wounds, but now you can look.

His broad shoulders taper to his narrow waist, and his tanned, toned skin begs to be touched. Half of him is shrouded in black ink, and a burning desire to drag your nails over the ridges of his abs has you licking your lips.

Hunter’s not faring much better, either. The sight of you sprawled on his bed in nothing but a scrap of aqua fabric, lips kiss-swollen, his bandana still in your hair, and your gorgeous tits exposed has him itching to fuck you on every surface, to fill the room with the scent of your arousal and make you scream his name over and over again. “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.” Hunter breaks the momentary silence, reaching down to palm himself through his pants.

The action draws your gaze downwards, and you watch delightfully as the man you love gives himself a stroke through the fabric.

Hunter’s nostrils flare, picking up on how the simple action drew more of your heady scent from between your thighs. At the foot of the bed, he slowly sinks down onto his knees, eyes never once leaving you. If you smell that delicious, he can only imagine how you’ll taste.

Propped up on your forearms, you watch as Hunter sinks down between your thighs, those warm brown eyes focused solely on you. Fingers skim up your calves, feather-light, gently pressing your legs wider as they reach your knees. His head turns inwards, gazes breaking as he presses soft kisses to your thighs, tongue leaving small, slow licks in their wake. He takes his time savouring you, savouring the moment.

Lips brush across the juncture between your thigh and hip, sucking small marks against your skin before Hunter buries his face against your clothed pussy, eyes shut as he presses his nose against your clit, inhaling deeply. Your scent pulls a low growl from him, the vibrations making you gasp. “So wet already. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Hunter vows, tongue pressing forward to lick across the damp fabric of your panties, making your breath stutter at the contact as your head thunks back down onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut.

Fingers prying the material down your legs, Hunter dives back between your thighs, dragging the flat of his tongue through your soaked folds, delighting in the way your hips buck and you cry out. He was right; you taste even more delicious than you smell, and he groans at your tang on his tongue.

Drawing your legs over his shoulders, he settles in, licking long, broad strokes across your pussy, familiarising himself with you. His senses home in on you, mind cataloguing every slight noise you make, every jerk of your hips, the way your breath quickens when his tongue skirts oh so close to your entrance and then circles around your clit.

Needy little whines escape you, every nerve in your body alight as Hunter teases you, lips and tongue exploring you, his nose bumping against your clit to send sparks of desire surging through you. Warmth pools in your belly, and it only grows as the wet warmth of his tongue presses against your entrance, dipping in. “Hunter…” You moan out his name, fingers burrowing into his hair as you cant your hips, grinding against his face.

Pride blooms in Hunter’s chest at your response, and he keeps going a little longer before he flicks his tongue up and across your clit, the sounds of your cries of delight like music to his ears. Hands grasping at your thighs, he presses your legs up, almost folding you in half as his tongue sweeps side to side, teasing his way back down your pussy as he has greater access.

The change in angle makes you moan, free hand clawing at the sheets while your hips rock, chasing the delight of his mouth. A light suck on your clit makes you gasp, the warmth in your belly building with every swipe of his talented tongue. Dragging his tongue around the edge of your folds, he draws an arch, skirting around the top of your clit again. “Hunter, please.” You crack, desperate for him.

You feel him smile against you, releasing one of your thighs, fingers roaming up your body until his tattooed hand gently squeezes one of your breasts. His mouth is relentless, tongue finding your clit, firmly moving side to side over the sensitive bud as those talented fingers of his tweak your pebbled nipple.

The warmth crescendos, spilling over, and you cry out his name as your release slams into you, making your body shudder, gasping for breath at its intensity.

Hunter works you through the high, and as you whine at the overstimulation, his mouth leaves you, fingers letting go of your nipple to smooth over the soft skin of your breast. “Beautiful.” He whispers reverently, tongue darting out to lick his lips and drink up the taste of you as he watches you come down from the high, your heavy-lidded eyes opening to meet his gaze.

With your hand in his hair, you guide him up your body, small hums of delight leaving you as he peppers kisses across your stomach and chest, laving little licks across your breasts as he drags you further up the bed. He breaks away for a second, using one hand to remove his belt and shuck off his pants.

You watch as he strips completely, acres of tanned skin finally revealed. As he ditches his boxers, his hard cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, thighs parting a little wider. You relish the low groan the action pulls from him before he takes himself in hand, fist sliding along his shaft for a few pumps. He’s average in length but thicker than you expected - anticipation coils through you.

He prowls up the bed, settling above you, letting a little of his weight rest against you. Dark eyes meet yours, and you can’t hold back your smile, fingers reaching up to trace along his face. Drawing his head down, you steal a kiss, letting the moment build as your eyes flutter shut, tongues brushing together. Hunter shifts above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other dips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock as he teases the velvety head through your soaked folds. Achingly slowly, he presses forward, your lips parting as you let out a soft moan at the stretch as he eases into you inch by inch.

“That’s it, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re so pretty, taking all of me like a good girl.” He whispers against your lips, enjoying how your breathing changes and your heart races at his words. You feel like heaven as he bottoms out, hips flush against you, chests pressed together as his hand moves back to the side of your head, redistributing his weight.

The stretch as Hunter fills you is exquisite, and your eyes open to gaze up at him in awe that this is happening – that this incredible man is yours. The first slow roll of his hips has your head tilting backwards, a breathy sigh filling the room.

The pace builds, your hands reaching for him, dragging up his back and down his flanks, nails scraping along flushed skin, making him grunt at the combination of pleasure and pain. Desire coils through you, building with every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock as he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in. He leans down to kiss you, demanding tongue sliding between your lips to taste you.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me. Made for me.” Hunter growls and the sound of your bodies meeting creates a background of white noise. “Won’t last long, baby. You feel too good. Fucking dreamed of this.” He adds, supporting his weight with one hand again, thrusts never faltering as he reaches down to grasp one of your legs, hauling it up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before he pushes your leg towards your chest, the change in angle enabling him to thrust into you even deeper.

Eyes falling shut once again as he drives you closer to the edge, you whine and whimper as his cock repeatedly rubs against your g-spot. The hand he’d used to pry your leg up moves to your breast, fingers tweaking your pebbled nipple again before he gently squeezes. Your name falls from his lips, raspy alongside his command. “Come for me.”

Between his hands, cock, and voice, you’re powerless to resist. Fingers scrambling at his body for purchase, your back arches as you cry out his name, desire bubbling over into a rush of euphoria that sweeps through your body and momentarily renders you speechless. Tremors wrack through you, toes curling as you desperately pant for breath, hazy eyes opening to look up at him.

Feeling you come apart, watching you fall into pleasure beneath him, was more than Hunter could’ve ever asked for. You were beautiful every day, but lost in the throes of an orgasm he’d given you? You were divine. He could feel the pressure building, feel himself teetering on that edge.

“Where?” The roughness of Hunter’s voice caresses you, warm puffs of his breath tickling your ear from where he’s bent down to bring you both even closer, caging you under him as his thrusts grow sloppy, muscles taut under your hands.

“In me, please.” You whisper back, and the deep moan he lets out will forever be seared into your mind.

Hunter gives a few final thrusts before he presses in as deep as he can, a guttural sound leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, thighs shaking as he hits his own peak, the pressure evaporating into molten bliss as he gives you everything. Slowly, the pleasure pulls back, like the tide, and he swallows thickly as his eyes open, breath catching at the sight of you.

You’re gazing up at him like he hung all the stars in the galaxy, indescribable love woven through your features. Carefully, he lowers your raised leg, fingers rubbing to return some of the feeling as his lips meet yours with a tenderness that could only come from years of shared moments, mouths moving in perfect harmony, a slow, sensuous exploration of one another.

Hand sliding to your waist, Hunter holds you still as he gently eases himself out of you, shifting to lay on his side, drawing you against his chest.

You nestle into his embrace. Your fingers trace the contours of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The years of laughter and tears, the countless shared experiences, and the trust built over time have all culminated in this moment.

Hunter presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He draws lazy circles on your back, a comforting motion that brings you a sense of security and belonging.

With your bodies pressed together, you both revel in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The room is filled with a peaceful stillness, and you listen to the soft melody of your combined breaths, knowing that this love is the anchor that holds you both steady in a still-turbulent galaxy.

[jiminy-crickets]

saw the tags on your rb, and as a fellow "connor bedard has autism" headcanoner, i would love to know more of your thoughts 😈

it's less of a headcanon and more of a divinely correct vibe check. but like am i wrong...???? although I do see it more as they're the same flavour of ND with different presentations, like Connor is hyperfocus ADHD, and Macklin is inattentive (this comes from someone with mixed presentation ADHD¹, they also tried to diagnose me with austim but my legs were too long i make eye contact BUT!!! 93rd% "indicating that Cassie has many behavioural characteristics similar to youth diagnosed with ASD." raaaaa 💪💪💪 93% is an A!! i ace even the tests i fail!!!) Plus his rigidity with his diet, is bonkers for someone that young (and it's been going on since he was like 14-15)

Like especially with the way that Connor's constant practicing, after practice until the zamboni kicks him off, and then on off days and optional skates hiding his gear to make him take days off?? that is pretty classic hyperfocus ADHD. And especially with the way he blames the teams loses on himself, like please sir seeing you in the mirror is not good for my health!!

And with Macklin, people often mischaracterize inattentive ADHD with not being motivated or good at routine and while yes those two things are a normal part of human life, and more-so with ADHD, he has shown many times how deeply he cares about hockey........ but I think (and also remember i am projecting) his father being THAT hands on with him and his brothers training (even now which yuck, you have your own job get your grubby paws off of your kid's job) has made him unable to self propel, and get himself into that routine? (AND AGAIN I AM PROJECTING) like something Macklin has said a few times is how the shift to a pro-hockey schedule has been hard, and yes it is an adjustment, but he has been essentially living away from his parents for YEARS, two years boarding at Shattuckk, one year (presumably) billeting in Chicago while playing in the USHL, and one year in college at BU, and I think the real shift is that... daddy is planning his workouts again, full time not just summers (also, the travaling doesn't help) AND THAT (i am projecting) is HELL to someone who built a routine, and any hope of getting back into one was dashed when he went of IR for his hip after one game. the boy needs CONSISTENCY!!!!! And until they get him 1) away from his freak father who has his hands al over his development plan, and 2) on simple routine with max five types of days (home game, home practice, home rest, away game, away rest) he will not get situated.

BACK TO BEDARD <33333

the man loves rules and procedures. him at his first training camp all doe eyed and "wanting to make the team!" so much that Kyle Davidson... maybe it was Luke Richardson who said it...??? either way his coach or his GM pulled aside his MOTHER to tell them that they needed to start looking at apartments. Before getting drafted it was never "when" it was "if i get drafted".... like dude.... it's gonna happen! Whenever he get's sen't to the box its always a "they hate me, don't they know I am unable to break rules!! not because they don't apply to me but because I can NOT break rules!" vibe (I am only kinda projecting on this one)

and I do think the type of media around them during their developmental years up has affected them, Macklin's media was always focused on his father, which reinforced his reliance/dependence on him, whereas Connor's was focused on him which encouraged him to focus on himself and what HE can do to improve.

also Connor has that DOG IN HIM

^ connor bedard real not fake (also my childhood psychologist had this PROMENENTLY displayed in her office and i think seeing it every two weeks had an adverse affect on me)

¹ and a bunch of other learning disorders, dyslexia, dysgraphia, dyscalculia, audio processing disorder, also anxiety, depression, and cutie patootie disease (fatal 😔)

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

SXF Chapter 93 Analysis-Loid on Anya's Past

Okay, I wanted to talk about this scene in this post first.

I love how Twilight doesn't ask Anya this question in his Twilight mode. It didn't feel like he was interrogating her. He was just genuinely curious about the origins of his adoptive daughter and this just shows that this curiosity about her past was always within his thoughts.

And judging Anya's reaction upon his sudden question, she didn't look like scared and panicky to me. She's just like genuinely surprised, like oh, is it weird that I'm good at it? Her expression kinda reminds me of her reaction at Loid correcting her name on Chapter 90.5

The same deadpan stare.

My guess is that her name and classical language were both things that were part of her identity before she can even remember it. And it being questioned makes her a little curious and confuse about herself as well.

I think classical language was a natural for thing for Anya, it could be from the place she grew up in and I don't think it was a product of the experiments on her (if it was, she would be conscious about being too good about it for she always tries to hide anything that might reveal her being a telepath). So I think her knowledge of classical language would not connect her relation to the experiments but rather to her origins which she may not have a memory of.

I think that Anya might be telling the truth on this part. She was so little back then (1-3 years old, I suppose), I'm sure all she can remember was being experimented on and not anything about her early stages in her life where she was not in the custody of the scientists but rather with her real family. (But at least she has some memories of her biological mother, based on her reaction on the Eden interview, she might have been with Anya for a quite some time)

I believe that this could serve as a turning point for Twilight to delve deeper into Anya's background. But as I already discussed from this post, he has this hesitance when it comes to digging deep about his fake daughter, for he could stumble upon a truth that he might not be capable of accepting. A truth that might take her away from him.

Following their conversation that night, Anya appeared unconcerned about Loid's inquiries regarding her knowledge of the classical language. He likely dismissed that curiosity from his mind. If he was planning to research about Anya, Anya would definitely know and of course she would panic and worry about him finding about her abilities.

But it revealed to us one thing, Loid is indeed concerned about Anya's history, he didn’t completely pushed the thought in his mind, meaning it was indeed something that he considered to be crucial, but he is choosing to not make it his priority to know, I guess he still in the mindset that there’s no use in prying too much or rather it wouldn’t be good for him, his mission and their family if he did.

Okay, enough of the serious stuff, now let me appreciate the father-daughter moments they have in this chapter

Aww he looks so proud of his little girl, they both come a long way!

Just look at her precious smile!❤️❤️😭 The father-daughter interaction I crave! I hope there's more of this, please, Endo-sensei

And this exchange between them, Twilight/Loid is becoming more of a real father to Anya, I just love to see him so concerned about his baby. I wonder if he was putting the blanket back on her every time he saw she had kicked it off so she won't cold when she wakes up. That was canon for me.

So I'll be talking about the other half of Chapter 93 on another post which focuses on my thoughts about Demetrius and the Desmonds.

[marineduo]

Cobymeppo / Kobymeppo Fic Recs!

Here's a list of Koby / Helmeppo fics that I personally recommend, for @klausbens and anyone else just getting into Kobymeppo from the Live Action! Putting them under a read more because this is going to be a long. Fics will be linked in the fic titles! They are ordered in oldest to newest.

General Recs

This Modest Paradise - Eloarei

Coby and Helmeppo run into Morgan while shopping.

This one is my all-time favorite Cobymeppo fic. It was one of the first I found and it's one I still think about and revisit often

Grow - Eloarei

Helmeppo is able to take care of himself, but when his father returns home with a promotion, he finds he suddenly doesn't have to anymore, and that's the weirdest part about moving to the Marine base in Shells town. Without any responsibilities, he becomes bored, and any of the positive attitude his mother might have left him with goes straight out the window.

This is a really sweet fic about Helmeppo's initial time in the Marines. Not as overtly Cobymeppo, but the last little bit always gets me right in the feels.

The Way of Monsters - Eloarei

Coby was used to monsters. After years under Alvida he thought he understood them. But escaping out into the world shows him that there's a lot he doesn't know. What makes a monster? And what redeems one?

This one's very fun. It has werewolves, and is a bit of a Beauty and the Beast kind of tale. Highly Recommend.

Building Desks For Dummies - thecayenneknight

Koby and Helmeppo must face their greatest mission yet: assembling a single piece of furniture.

Short and sweet and super cute.

Dance With Me - RedPen1992

Soon after the conclusion of the Paramount War, the Marines have to face their next greatest challenge, The Marine Gala.

This one's more focused on Akainu/Kizaru, but the Coby/Helmeppo stuff in there is really good. Overall a great read.

Anniversary - altokiwi

Ready to go party, Hina demands they tell her all about last year's Halloween Night, first. Holding Helmeppo's hand tight, Coby tells the story about the scariest —but also the happiest— night of his life.

This is a really good one. I may be biased since it was an exchange gift for me, but it's a wonderful blend of silly and a little spooky <3

To Come Back - merricat

Coby and Helmeppo's close-knit circle of Marines is holding a celebration at none other than Shells Town, which forces Helmeppo to confront demons past and present.

I'm also biased towards this one (another exchange gift), but man it's so good. Lots of Helmeppo looking back on things, and them just being so sweet with each other.

Daydreams - hamstercheese7

Coby just cannot concentrate on paperwork. And who could blame him, with a view like that?

This one's so silly sweet I love it. Has both Coby/Drake and Coby/Helmeppo.

Coby/Helmeppo Oneshots - ShadowoftheLightningPack

Ok this one's a doozy at 109 chapters but there are a lot of good ones in there. If nothing else I think it's really worth at least browsing to see if anything catches your attention! (That being said, read chapter 93 it's fun)

Against Change (You Can Wander Through the Ruins) - owlboxes

“I don’t want to pry,” Coby murmurs, quiet so as not to startle Helmeppo, who already looks seconds away from crumbling. “But…I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” “I have to get my hair cut in the morning,” Helmeppo says, his voice trembling, as he tugs at the strands that have grown longer, almost to his chin now. “…but what if I don’t want to?”

I'm a sucker for Cobymeppo Fics that center around Helmeppo's hair and this checks all the boxes.

My Fic Recs

(These are all ones I wrote myself that I think are worth a read)

Over the Edge

When Helmeppo ends up letting go in a precarious situation, Coby is forced to consider life without his other half, if only for a little while.

Diaries of Coby-Meppo

I particularly recommend Scissors.

Bloodsoaked

When things go south on a solo mission, Helmeppo takes things to the extreme.

Masquerade

Coby and Helmeppo attend the year's big masquerade ball at Mariejois and the night goes far better than Coby had ever expected.

A Haunted Base

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Helmeppo looked down from his perch on a ceiling beam, watching as Tashigi came in with a huff and slammed a box down on the operating table he’d stolen from the base earlier. “Because Smoker had better things to do, and nobody gets out of Vice Admiral Dahlia’s plans?” 

Day on the Edge

Coby enjoys a peaceful morning with his partner, but something leaves him feeling uneasy.

SPICY Fic Recs

Saved and Earned - Tonko

Integrity is a hard road, but Helmeppo is trying.

I don't even know what to say about this fic. You know that pic of the stick figure on all fours shaking something violently in its mouth? That's how crazy this fic makes me.

Guilty Pleasures - me

When Coby witnesses the carnage his friend and partner is capable of, in the moment he's not sure how he'll get past it. But the jokes on him, because he's into that shit.

I wrote this to be similar to Bloodsoaked, but more spicy.

Searching for the Words - 2Farky2Furious

“Helmeppo.” He shook himself from his thoughts. “Huh?” “It’s just me. You know you can tell me anything, right?” “I—” Helmeppo met the soft, familiar warmth of Coby’s gaze and blurted into the scant space between them. “I want to kiss you again.”

A little angsty at first, which makes the semi-public sex even better.

Helping Hands - leghair

What had started as a rare bartering chip back when they themselves were new recruits and every drill had left them quaking like newborn deer had shifted into a standard IOU or repaid-favour, and from there, eventually, had simply become… habit. After their midnight training sessions left them fatigued, they would crawl back to their barracks, where Helmeppo would scratch Coby’s back and Coby scratched his - quite literally. That’s just how they got through it. It had been a while, though, come to think of it. Their schedules had grown to be quite different since Coby’s promotion. He still got the occasional remedial massage from medical, but it just wasn’t quite the same as someone who knew his body as well as Meppo did.

Very good fic, but also I think of the tag 'formal apology to the one (1) cobymeppo shipper with an appetite for toes reading this with dismay' at least once a week.

Coby/Helmeppo Smut Oneshots - ShadowoftheLightingPack

If you don't read any of the others (though you should), at least read chapter 8. It's very good.

[dickgraysonsptsd]

(hey this is Barks 👋 this is my main)

Thought it would be fun to ask what your fav Nightwing adventures are :) they don't have to be 'good', just the ones you vibe with!

HI BARKS i love your art sooo much btw. thank you for saying they don't have to be "good" because what i would say while trying to look like i have good taste and what i would say for my actual faves/the ones that stick in my head the most is. different.

i'm keeping these specifically to dick-as-nightwing stories, so no robin or dickbats stuff! and i tried to go for self-contained single issues or short arcs where possible. and tried to minimize my nw '96 picks because otherwise this would genuinely all be nw '96 (my beloved). OKAY YAY LETS GO

🚨🚨LONG POST WARNING🚨🚨

batman: year three

i usually go for robin annual #4 (juvie) for my personal dick backstory rather than the one presented here, but there's so much to love about this arc and so much that sets up alpod and eventually nw '96!! bruce as a character defined by and constructed upon his grief (over his parents) and dick coming to try to intervene in a time of their mutual grief (over jason) that overlaps with an event related to DICK'S grief (over HIS parents) is such a great layered story!!

showcase '93 #11-12

just a fun little nightwing/robin team-up circa azbats era, written with tim as the narrator. we get a lot of tim fanboying over dick and an aside in #12 where dick is clearly rattled by how he left the titans (in the aftermath of his breakup with kory) + feeling adrift as nightwing (yum!). and this panel has really stuck with me:

dick won't treat the robins like kids in the sense of talking down to them or babying them, because he knows what that feels like (bad! like your grown-up doesn't trust you! like you aren't capable enough!) but he also knows, as the grown-up himself now, that they do have to be kids. they have to have childhoods. and they have to acknowledge their limitations and their capabilities as children, but without being treated like kids for it.. urghh it's so good!! it's so like him!! it's so consistent with how he interacts with damian in dickbats era!!

there's also this bit of classic Dick Grayson Blaming Himself For Anyone Dying Ever And Craving Atonement For His Sins:

it's a very straightforward little story, but there's a lot of great characterization and tim+dick relationship stuff packed into it!

nightwing (1996) annual #1

dick goes undercover as the new groom of a suspected black widow! this issue reveals that BRUCE TRAINED HIM BY ASPHYXIATING HIM ON DOZENS OF TOXINS SO HE COULD "PROPERLY DIAGNOSE THE SYMPTOMS OF DISTINCT FORMS OF ASPHYXIATION" which is so kinky it makes me ill (positive):

it also has a scene where dick takes the suspect's son to the circus and they bond over both having dead dads, and later there's a moment after dick reveals to his "wife" that he was just there to investigate the murders when he seriously considers staying with her and the kid and like... give this man a baby NOWWWW!!!!!!

nightwing/huntress #1-4

this is such a classic devin grayson "everything in dick's life is ultimately about his relationship with bruce" storyline (she's right.) (don't check to see how much of this list is by devin grayson btw!!!) and i really like the art in it! i think huntress fans generally don't like this story so i'll reassess after i read more huntress :pensive: but for now i enjoyed it a lot--devin grayson's voice for dick is my favorite!

nightwing (1996) #86

dick gets shot in the arm, becomes manicwing, and alfred + babs force him to take time off to heal against his will (and deal with him climbing up the walls when forced to slow down). i love the entirety of the tarantula and blockbuster arc but this issue is a stand-out to me for being weirdly funny, involving multiple relationships in dick's life, and letting you see what happens when he CAN'T work, which reinforces why nightwing is so essential to him (which then plays into why he and babs break up soon after). this issue does a lot for this arc imo!

also featuring dick's burgeoning obsession with america's most wanted, which will flourish in outsiders (2003) when he goes full autistic hyperfixation and literally calls john walsh to guest star

titans (1999) #10-12

slade comes to the titans for help rescuing addie from the remnants of the hive organization. i love to see dick acting as team leader and i LOVE when there's pushback and conflict involved and i LOOOVE so much of the titans' history (and therefore dick's history) coming into play!! and most of all i love dick being relentlessly, devastatingly heroic at all costs:

yeah he ties himself to a falling bomb in an effort to disarm it in midair knowing that even if he succeeds he'll probably die. and he does it. successfully. madman.

batman: gotham knights #8-11

there is so much to screencap in this arc, it's insane. the iconic "complicated... sticky and hot..." scene, dick saying bruce can't be dead because dick would know if he were (which connects forward to bruce's "death" arc in such a painful way... he WASN'T dead!!! and you DIDN'T know!!! SO WHAT DOES THAT MEAN DICK, HUH??? DOES IT MEAN ANYTHING?? IS YOUR SOULBOND REAL OR IMAGINED?? IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM REAL OR IMAGINED?????), dick reciting the oath to amnesiac bruce, dick flinging himself off a building, tim and dick eating popcorn while they watch strange and batman fight, the buildup to murderer/fugitive... it's soooo good!!!

batman: gotham knights #14

JPV: Are the women safe? Dick, sarcastically: No. I let them get shot.

this is the dick writes a letter to bruce issue (you know the one), which would land it here anyway, but it's ALSO the dick has to work with jpv and is a huge cunt about it because he remains deeply jealous of jpv for somehow earning bruce's approval in a way dick didn't issue. god bless! we love him at his most petty and uptight!

battle for the cowl (2009) #1-3

people hate this event so much and for what!! this is a great comic for dick and his relationships with bruce's legacy and the other robin boys. and it has what i lowkey think is the most beautiful single page of nightwing art:

and then uhh yeah the entirety of nw '96. the whole thing.

[nightowlwoman]

I am taking a moment to let all my Tumblr followers and friends know that I am alright. I know I have been mostly absent for awhile now. The reason is two-fold - since March, I have been traveling back and forth on a regular basis from my home in Maine to my parents home in Rhode Island to help my brother (my only sibling) deal the health issues of our parents (who are 93 and 94 years old), get them settled together into a good care facility, deal with their possessions and the details of their long lives together (married for 73 years as of January) and prepare to market and then sell their house, which they built in 1957 and which was our family home since that time. It was an exhausting process for two people in their 70's, but we were close to finishing it. I looked forward to getting back to my life with my husband in Maine.

Last week, while I was in Rhode Island and my husband was alone at our home, he died. Although he had several serious health issues, there was no reason to think anything like this would happen - it was a total shock to me and everyone who knows us. It was a gentle death - he fell asleep in his recliner watching TV and never woke up. Unfortunately, however, we were not prepared for his unexpected passing and I am left with, not only my grief, but chaos in every aspect of what was our lives together. We shared not only our lives personally, but were also business partners, and he died while still working on trying to get us to the point of being able to retire. All the loose threads now fall to me to resolve.

I know I can do it - in time. I know I will find a new normal and go on with my life - in time. I am not alone. I have family and friends who loved him, who love me and who will help me as much as they can. Most of all I have our daughter, who is also my best friend, and we are sharing our grief and sharing the burdens and the decisions that need to be made.

My husband was not perfect - neither am I - but he was a very good man and husband and father. I will never not miss him. He was 76 years old and in April we had celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary.

I will be popping in and out of my blog and when I have managed to restore some sense of order to my life I will get back to doing something I love - catching up with all my favorite blogs and friends and reposting all the beautiful and interesting and amusing things that I find and enjoy and want to share!

[moviehealthcommunity]

This pinned post contains every movie we have determined to be safe for photosensitive audiences! This will be updated as new titles enter and leave theaters. This is NOT medical advice. These are just titles to which we have given flashing lights scores of 0 or 1 out of 10.

*=currently in theaters

The 40-Year-Old Virgin 80 for Brady Abominable American Fiction Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret Away From Her A Bad Moms Christmas The Ballad of Buster Scruggs The Beguiled The Big Sick The Bikeriders Billy Madison Book Club: The Next Chapter The Breakfast Club Casablanca Challengers Cheaper by the Dozen (2022) The Christmas Chronicles A Christmas Story Christmas Christopher Robin Cinderella (2015) Clerks Cocaine Bear Coco Coming to America Crazy Rich Asians Crimson Peak Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Cyrano Daddy's Home Daddy's Home 2 Dear Evan Hansen Dirty Dancing Dogma Dolores Claiborne Downhill Downton Abbey Drive My Car Eight Crazy Nights Eileen Elemental Elf Enemy Ever After: A Cinderella Story Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile The Fighting Preacher Five Feet Apart Gladiator Going in Style The Goldfinch Good Will Hunting Green Book Heretic The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug The Hurt Locker The Hustle I Don't Know How She Does It The Ice Age Adventures of Buck Wild IF In Bruges Instant Family Interview with the Vampire It Ends with Us It's a Wonderful Life Jojo Rabbit Kimi Knives Out Last Christmas The Laundromat Little Women (2019) Lizzie Logan Lucky The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring Luca Lying and Stealing Ma Rainey's Black Bottom A Madea Christmas Madea's Family Reunion Madea's Witness Protection Maleficent: Mistress of Evil Mallrats A Man Called Otto The Many Saints of Newark Marriage Story Mary Poppins Returns Mary Queen of Scots Mean Girls (2004) The Menu Miracle of 34th Street (1994) Misery Monty Python's Life of Brian Mrs. Doubtfire The Muppet Christmas Carol Muppet Treasure Island Murder Mystery Next Goal Wins Night at the Museum Office Space On the Basis of Sex Origin Pan's Labyrinth Past Lives The Perfection The Polar Express The Power of the Dog A Prayer Before Dawn Psycho (1960) Psycho (1998) Pulp Fiction The Report The Rhythm Section Rise of the Planet of the Apes Roma The Room Rudy The Santa Clause The Santa Clause 3: The Escape Clause Sasquatch Sunset Seven Psychopaths The Shallows Shanghai Noon Shaun the Sheep Movie The Shining Shrek the Third Smokey and the Bandit Son In Law Spencer The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) Three Thousand Years of Longing Ticket to Paradise Uncut Gems United 93 West Side Story (1961) The Whale Windfall The Wizard of Oz Women Talking Won't You Be My Neighbor? Worth Zombieland: Double Tap The Zone of Interest

[suspiria76]

Farewell to James Earl Jones

Rest easy, Sir. You've lived a good long life of 93 years.

[bullet-prooflove]

Set Up To Fail: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Tagging: @shanimallina87 @malindacath @@djs8891 @dempy @words-and-seeds @cosmic-psychickitty @xoxabs88xox @hardballoonlove @@ssa-sadboi @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @queenslandlover-93 @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond 

It’s been a long time since Jake has had a flashback, he used to have them occasionally in his early twenties after he received his care file, but he hasn’t had one in a couple of years. However, there’s a moment when he’s slipping out of the door of the locker room that Rooster puts his hand on his shoulder to tell him something and it hits him. It feels like someone has put a filter over his vision, the past and the present flickering and merging into one. For a second, he’s back in the trailer of his parent’s dealer, trying to slip away because the fumes, they’re choking him. He sees the gap in the door a sliver of light in the haze and he dives for it, but there’s a hand on his shoulder, a grip he can’t shake off pulling him back. He doesn’t escape that night; he’s forced to sit there as his parents’ barter meth for their only son. They leave the trailer without him.

His reaction in the present is unwarranted. He tears himself away from the other man and hurtles through the door, letting it slam behind him.  It’s only when he sits in his car, both hands gripping the steering wheel and his heart pounding in his chest that he realises that Rooster was only trying to return his keys.

He ends up walking to your place, it’s not far only a couple of clicks but every step feels like it’s agony because his nerves are flayed raw, and he keeps thinking about all of other shit he read in that file.

About how his family was known to social services already before he was picked up for trying to sling meth. About how going back to that trailer emptyhanded had meant earning it some other way, he’d seen it happen with other kids and he refused to be one of them. When he was caught it was almost a relief because it turns out he was pretty shit at hawking meth and Crispin, his parent’s dealer had already been making noises about how a good-looking kid like him can fetch a decent payday.

He ends up in a group home with no hope of getting fostered or adopted. The problem is he’s seven years old and feral because meth heads don’t make good parents and he’s been forced to fend for himself ever since he can remember. It takes him a while to realise that only the good kids get to leave that place, so he tries to moderate his behaviour, become one of them. He tidies himself up and works his ass off but by then it’s too little, too late because by that point he’s entering his teenage years and he learns that boys have a lower chance of being selected than girls.

Looking back, from the very beginning he’d been set up to fail.

When he gets to your house, he can’t bring himself to knock. There’s such turmoil inside of him, it wrenches at his insides, and he isn’t sure that he wants you to see this, that he wants anyone to see this. The choice is taken out of his hands when you pull the door open, Cujo’s lead in your hand, and you see the look on his face.

The problem is he’s never had a home until he met you, you’re a safe space in a sea of chaos. He knows that instinctively and his instincts, they haven’t failed him yet. You usher him inside, Cujo pressing against his legs because that dog, he knows how to read a room and he knows when one of his people are hurting.

It’s on the couch that he tells you what happened, with Cujo’s face in his lap, his palm smoothing over the dog’s head as he looks up at Jake with the most empathetic expression he’s ever seen. It’s grounding the feel of his fingers combing through Cujo’s fur, somehow it makes it easier to vocalise the messiness inside of his head. The most debilitating part is that he thought he was over it, that the past was in the past but he’s coming to learn that the foundations of his early life still bleed into his every day. He can’t understand what triggered it, he’s been clasped on the shoulder a thousand times before and he’s never felt anything this visceral.

Your fingers thread through his, your thumb caressing over the outline of his hand and he feels the tension starting to ebb from his body.

“Sometimes it can be a something as simple as a sound, a sight, a smell, even a sensation…”

It’s then that it clicks. An echo in his mind. The ghost of a memory. A hand clasping his shoulder, the door closing and that scent, the sharp tang of aftershave on his tongue as he’s drawn back. It’s a moment of clarity because he remembers now, Rooster mentioning the new cologne he’d bought, him spraying it into the air after he changed out of his flight suit. It’s not the same, but it’s similar enough. Those actions and that smell at the same time…

“Fuck.” He mutters before tipping his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing. “What the fuck am I supposed to tell him?”

“How about the truth?” You suggest. “He’s your friend, he’s going to want to know what happened, how he can help.”

You see his jaw clench as he averts his gaze back to Cujo.

“Jake,” You say softly. “The thing about PTSD is it’s insidious, it feels like it’s this shameful, terrible secret but it’s not, it’s a part of you. What happened tonight was horrible, it took you back to some dark fucking places, but it doesn’t change the progress you’ve made, how far you’ve come. You’re still you, you’re still one of the strongest people I know.”

He gives you a look and you squeeze his hand gently.

“I mean it.” You say forcefully. “I’m proud of you.”

There are so many ways a man with his history could have turned out, but he’s managed to circumvent them all and instead he’s here, making something of himself, a lieutenant in one of the most prestigious programs in the Navy.

“I didn’t realise how much I needed to hear that.” He admits quietly, his arm coming to rest across your shoulders before he draws you close, his lips brushing over your hairline.

“Thank you.” He whispers. “Thank you for being there when I need you, thank you for loving me.”

Love Hangman? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee