#i dont have ao3 yet

[iz-nomewrites]

Goodness gracious! The boys are fighting *squints* wait... no… It appears I was mistaken they’re… oh gosh… oh my

To and for @brainrotwriter @brainrotgoverner , take your gay cowboys with you. Oh, farmer Chase and warlock Buddy 😂 damn, thats hot

A fic I would’ve posted if I still had ao3 🥲.

———————————————————————-

The cool midnight breeze passes between them two as they rested on a stack of hay tucked into the corner of the barn. Chase was busy, playing a slow, gentle tune on the banjo, humming to himself, and Buddy drinks from the single flask of whiskey the boy had brought a while ago.

He was a runaway, and he had just managed to escape from the clutches of Ex Libris, Chase helping him with the aid of his trusty noble steed. And now he was in hiding, unbeknownst to Chase’s grandpa as he lived right under his nose with all his other livestock.

Chase was supposed to tell the senior, but Buddy had pleaded him not to yet, in fear of being shunned by the old man. Chase tried to convince him that his grandpa wouldn’t, but seeing the look of Buddy’s face as he begged in a quiet whisper, he agreed that in the meantime, it would be their little secret.

The moonlight bleeds through the wooden planks that haven’t quite covered up the hole in the roof, illuminating the handsome features of the blonde, the smooth curvature of his nose, the slight prominence of his cheekbones, and his soft golden bangs that hang above chestnut brown eyes which shined like a million stars.

His gaze was steady as he plucked the strings with the precision of a beginning apprentice on the lute, but his focus was like that of a trained musician as his fingers moved from fret to fret.

It was intoxicating.

He takes another swig from the flask, savoring the liquor from the rim of the bottle where Chase also drank from a while ago with an agonizing slowness. He runs his tongue over his lips, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

How he wished it was his lips on his rather than the cold steel of the whiskey flask.

…But then again… he doesn’t really have to wish does he?

He leans forward on one arm where he sat on the haystack, taking the boy’s chin with his other hand, turning it to face him. Chase’s eyes widened as his chestnut eyes met his own piercing icy blues. An adorable blush made its way onto the blonde’s cheeks, dusting his sun kissed skin a pale pink.

“Uh.. Buddy—”

”Shh,” he hushes him, resting his palm on the boy’s cheek, cradling his jaw. “I never gave you that reward for whisking me away didn’t I?” he says in a low and sultry tone, shortening the distance between them with the slick ease of a cat, but before he could connect their lips together, he whispers, breath hot, fanning over his lips and he could smell the whiskey clogging through his nose. “So what will it be lover boy?”

Whether it was in the heat of the moment or inebriation, Buddy doesn’t know, but Chase manages to close the gap between them, mouth slotting easily into his and when he closes his eyes, he can still taste the whiskey in the boy’s mouth, and it’s sweeter than he remembers it was before.

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[heleizition]

this is my naruto oc age 12 and age like 15 lmao she goes through it

[thelocal-shifter-kai]

Sebastian crack fic

Heya! Really hope you enjoy this fic. I'd say it's pretty funny, have fun reading!

You've started to forget when the first time you explored the blacksite was, or when you even started working for UrbanShade.. or why you started working for them.. When was the last time you died? You seemed to lose track, the memories just keep blurring together.

But there are some pros, on most of your runs and all of your returns you would see and talk to sebastian!

You and him were somewhat friends? At least that's what you thought. With the amount of times you died he would chat with you a bit, you and him could hold up a good conversation for awhile. He'd laugh at you. You'd laugh at him, you guys would banter and just have fun.

Though during one of your runs you found.. something very interesting and odd, no matter what happened, what routes you took, how fast or slow…. You had never seen something like this from the outside world. A fucking air fryer, where on earth did this come from? How did it get here? So many questions were going through your head. Your main question was how did this get here, God probably doesn't know where.

And neither do you.

Next to it you found some gold. A mini-fridge next to the air fryer. You might've found food in the blacksite! You eagerly open the mini-fridge as you seem to find diamonds. Food. You actually found a normal frozen package of food in the blacksite! You pick it up and look at what glorious type of food it might be… and its fish sticks.

The irony is almost painful. Emphasis on almost. The fact you're friends with Sebastian doesn't matter right now when you cook them in the air fryer. This is food, he out of all people would take this chance just as you are.

It felt like forever for them to cook but when it was done and you opened the air fryer it smelled like heaven, even if you didn't like fish before. You burn yourself getting some normal food out of the airfryer and trying to eat them, this was heaven, you were at the pearly gates of heaven eating these.

At least it was heaven compared to this hellish place you've been in for god knows how long. You've died so many times, but.. with this. You feel like you're not stuck here, like you're still in the outside world. Like before you were trapped in this hell.

You do eat most of the fish sticks but this heaven pack had a lot of them, you did cook them all. While putting the rest of them back in the bag you get a terrible great idea! Why not trade these to sebastian for an item? You didn't actually plan on doing that but you thought it would be a funny idea!

Going through the rooms you see that familiar vent break open as sebastian calls you in.

He greets you as normal, seemingly not noticing the heavenly smell of the food. He turns on his light for the shop, smiling at you. “Hello.. good to see you’re back, in need any items?” His tone is neutral but you can tell he's genuinely happy to see you. Sadly, what you're planning on doing to him might ruin that happiness.

You have a lot of research but you're gonna see what happens if you try to bribe him with food. You may not have his file but you know he's been here for a long time, who knows when he's last eaten?

“Why.. why would I want fish sticks instead of research???” His confusion just keeps growing, with a hint of sarcasm slowly building up.

You start to ask as confusion etches itself on Sebastian's face. “Could I buy something with fish sticks?” the confusion just sets in more as the silence is loud, after what feels like hours he just stares at you with utter confusion in his voice. “I'm sorry, what did you just say?” Poor sebastian is just completely confused. He doesn't know what to say. You hand him the bag, he opens it, looks inside for a minute, he just stares at you again, possibly even more confused. Somehow.

Unfortunately he steals the rest of your fish sticks and asks you “How on earth did you find and cook fish sticks!? How did you find normal food in the blacksite??” You start to explain and his confusion just seems to grow, in fact.. You've never seen... So much confusion on anything, ever.

“So.. let me get this straight. You some random expendable somehow found an air fryer and a mini-fridge, just to open the mini-fridge and find fish sticks. You somehow cooked them, you came here and tried to bribe me with fish sticks?? And you thought that would work??” He stares at you desperately waiting for an answer

“kinda??” as you say that he face-palms “Why would you do that when we've already established that RESEARCH is what you buy my items with.” his voice tells you that he thinks you're an absolute idiot.

“Not really, I thought it would be funny, to be honest it kinda was” you just caused him to have another face-palm. This annoyed you, because he refuses to give you back your fish sticks.

Sebastian picks you up like a mother cat would their kitten, but with his hand and it's the back of your uniform. “You'll what. I am a giant mutant fish with a shotgun. What are you going to do to me? There is quite literally nothing you can do.”

You manage to get yourself out of his grasp and while he realizes that you aren't in his hand anymore you have to be fast, so you quickly get up to grab a flash beacon from his tail and shoot him to make sebastian let go of his food.. you then shoot him with the flash beacon “GUAGH” he pulls out his shotgun and shoots you.

You don't get a file document from sebastian, although it wouldn't take a genius to know who killed you. All sebastian tells you is.. “I warned you..”

Next thing you remember is waking up back in your bed, of the UrbanShade prison. You get up knowing you'll have to get ready for your next run. Memories coming back about how you were killed by sebastian over fish sticks.

You really can't tell if it was a stupid dream or sebastian really killed you over fish sticks.

At least you'll be able to go back to the blacksite and get your answers. Let's hope sebastian will talk to you and answer your question.

[reignmaefall]

War is upon us (ao3 is down), everyone please stay safe wherever you are (dont resort to wattpad) <3333

[gunstellations]

theyre looking at pictures of sumo

scene from:

[puhpandas]

friendly reminder that commenting on fics saying things like "commenting every day until a new chapter is posted" and then actually following through with that and bombarding a writer that much isnt funny and its actually disrespectful

[gentil-minou]

Even with ao3 down I refuse to open wattpad I'd rather sit with my thoughts then go there

[linkspussy]

I tell you, Ao3 kudos for NSFW writers would SKYROCKET if you didn't need to log out to leave guest / anonymous kudos. So many people are afraid to have their usernames attached to smut, but also too lazy to want to log out. There's a fic I see commonly on my most browsed tag that has 16,000 hits and only 75 kudos. Insane stuff

[rking200]

Stratford Handoff

Simon is tasked with bringing Markus the uniform he needed during the Stratford Tower raid. They overlooked the option of hiding the uniform with the help of the ceiling tiles, so Simon stands in a closed stall and awaits Markus' tap at the door, a neatly-folded uniform in his hands.

2.5k words, chapter one of a three chapter SimonxMarkus angst/hurt-comfort/R18 fic. Nothing R18 happens in this chapter, just a bit of kissing and making out. Angst will be next chapter, then hurt-comfort into R18 for the last. Will be posted to AO3 upon completion.

The plan made perfect sense, and while carrying it out had been no easy task for Simon, he did appreciate knowing how much Markus trusted him. Markus blending in as a working android was such an integral part of the plan and the uniform pristinely folded in Simon's hands hadn't wound up there by pure chance. Part of Simon believed that he was seen as expendable by Markus--that he had seen merit in North and Josh and was worried about putting their lives in danger for the plan, while it might be worth it for Simon's life to be lost for their cause. Of course he tried not to heed the dark whispers, but they were there nonetheless. Simon's eyes darted to the stall door handle in front of him at the sound of the main door opening, but was able to relax when he heard another stall open and close. He shifted his weight and begged his hands not to wrinkle the uniform as he gripped it, closing his eyes and pushing his dark whispers and his anxieties out of his head for a few brief moments of respite: standby.

Simon was quick to move when he heard the gentle rhythmic tap of Markus' knuckle against the stall door. Quiet enough to not alert any human in the bathroom, but loud enough to give Simon's thirium pump a start. Flicking the lock open, Simon shifted aside to allow Markus to enter and lock the door back behind him. Because he had been the first to leave Jericho to start putting their plan in motion, Simon had yet to see Markus all dressed up in his suit. He really wore it well, and passed for a human perfectly. 「Simon?」

Simon pursed his lips at Markus' voice in his head, shaking his head and closing his eyes tight in order to focus them again. 「Sorry, Markus.」 His hands quivered slightly as he loosened his grip, allowing Markus to take the clothes from him. 「That suits you.」 Markus' perplexed look sent Simon slightly on edge. He hadn't meant to think that thought loud enough for it to connect with Markus, but there was no doubt that Markus had heard it. He let out a quiet yet audible chuckle, his eyes trained on Simon as his hands fumbled with his tie.

「Was...was that a pun? You didn't seem like the type, Simon.」

Simon blinked a few times, and his LED must have turned yellow because Markus' playful eyes darted over to Simon's temple. Ever since he fell into Jericho's hull, Markus had a permanently planted serious expression, and this was the first time he saw his brow relaxed, his eyes sparkle, and his lips parted in a smile. With a few more blinks, Simon tilted his head to the side, looking down to both physically remove his gaze from Markus' kind eyes and parted lips, and to blatantly put his stress on display by fully showing his blinking, yellow LED. He shifted his jaw as he searched for the words that he could not find.

「Relax.」 Markus took a step towards Simon, who couldn't help but take a half step back. His eyes were gentle but stared at him with the intensity of their cause shining through. He reached out and planted his hands firmly on either of Simon's shoulders. 「The plan is airtight. There's nothing to worry about. We get up there, send out our message and leave as quickly as we can. We've got this.」

Simon's eyes moved between Markus', and he let out a shaky, held breath. 「I know. We've got this.」 Markus offered a gentle smile before moving away. Simon watched him fumble with his tie a moment longer before moving forward, holding his breath once again and gently pressing his fingertips between the layers of fabric, unknotting it. 「First time?」

「My owner never wore ties. Josh, uh, Josh helped me tie it.」 Simon thought that was rather nice of Josh, but he'd be lying if he said the image of Josh stooping down to help a struggling Markus wasn't a funny one. He'd have to remember to ask him about it when they got back to Jericho. Simon didn't have a chance to step away from Markus before he started unbuttoning his white shirt. Simon's hands had barely let the two ends of the tie go before Markus pulled at his vest and shrugged his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, and he found his hands reaching for the warm, discarded clothes as Markus held them out to him. Simon was used to wearing more layers than what was provided in his current disguise, and for a split second he considered holding the bundle of warmth closer to himself, but he was worried that he was already making this situation tense enough. Simon closed his eyes in an attempt to stop them from wandering, but found them open again and trailing down Markus' chest. He watched Markus shift and tilt his head as he held up the uniform, attempting to make sense of it. Markus leaned over towards Simon, who straightened up and kept intense eye contact. What was he doing? Why was he getting so close? Markus shifted on his feet, pivoting away from Simon after depositing the hat, pants and over shirt momentarily. Simon's eyes were free to dart over him with his back turned, and he only had a moment until the long-sleeved undershirt would cover up his skin. He followed the curve of his side, pausing to notice the dip in his lower back before following his spine to his shoulder blades. He attempted to commit the image to memory, unintentionally furrowing his brows in the process. He noticed as Markus pulled the shirt down over his head, following the black hem down to his waist, but was not attentive enough to see Markus glance at him over his shoulder as his fingers tugged the hem down to his waistband. Simon was far too focused on the intake of information, as well as the intent to not openly share his thoughts with Markus. Markus turning, however, was a different story. Simon's eyes snapped up to his as he held the rest of the uniform out to Markus. Markus held his gaze as he took the pants, only breaking their eye contact to briefly glance to his own shoes, stepping out of them before reaching for his belt. Simon knew it was better for his own sanity to look away, and he did. He tilted his head to the side to give Markus privacy, but couldn't help but wonder why Markus didn't turn away like he had done before. Arguably, taking his pants off was more revealing than his shirt, but of course Markus probably wasn't thinking like that. There were more important matters at hand, and Simon shook his head in disappointment with himself, ever so slightly sighing. He needed to be better than this.

「You know, Simon...」 He risked a glance to meet Markus' eyes at the mention of his name. It was definitely a mistake--Markus was still in the process of putting his new pair of pants on. That mischievous look was still playing in the reflections on Markus' eyes, and Simon felt trapped no matter where he was looking. 「I thought having you helping me here was the safest option. Maybe--」 Markus' eyes darted to Simon's LED, which Simon was unaware of the color, 「--maybe I was wrong.」 Red, probably. At least it was now. 「Well.」 Simon had meant to immediately continue the thought, but the image of Markus buttoning his pants was too much to allow that to happen. Markus shook his head slightly, and Simon was relieved for the smile that plagued his lips, and that he didn't seem outwardly angry with him. Markus moved closer to place more warm clothes in his hands. His fingers hovered over the brim of the hat, but he didn't move away. Markus tilted his head to the side, as if asking for Simon to continue his previous thought. 「I think it was the best option.」 The thought was very forced, and he hated watching Markus take notice of his LED yet again. It really wasn't fair, especially since Markus had gotten rid of his own...Simon momentarily considered when he'd have time to remove his. But now wasn't the time for his mind to wander, because Markus was still right there, he wasn't moving. Simon felt his brow furrow ever so slightly as he searched for something in Markus' eyes. Some reason why he wasn't leaving the stall. North was waiting for him, and Simon had another part to play before they met up on the broadcasting floor. 「Simon.」 Markus' voice was gentle and innocent in his head, and Simon unconsciously shifted his jaw to the side, wearily casting his eyes up to meet his. Simon almost couldn't physically take their closeness, and felt his mind race as Markus leaned closer still, his eyes burning through Simon's thoughts, leaving him nothing but an incoherent jumble in his head. He felt a breath escape his lips, and Simon couldn't help but feel that Markus had stolen it. A hot huff of air escaped Markus, as well, and Simon breathed it in, happy to steal his breath in return.

Simon kept unwavering eye contact as Markus' lips barely brushed his own, sending a shock through every fiber of his being. Markus' firm hand rested on top of the bundle of clothes in Simon's hands, pressing down ever so slightly on him. The tension between their lips was unbearable. Their warm breaths collided between them, Simon's shaky and wavering ones against Markus' warm and steady ones. And when Markus finally did give into Simon's pleading, shivering lips, he kept his eyes trained on Simon's. Simon felt violated: it wasn't a negative feeling, but he felt so laid bare against Markus' gaze and against his lips. Simon couldn't handle the feeling any longer, and shut his eyes so that he could focus more on the physical part of this and less on the soul-searching gaze Markus was trying so hard to hold.

Their lips parted before Markus pressed again, tilting his head more to press their lips together tighter still. Simon unknowingly let down his guard, but he did, sighing into his lips and relaxing against him. His lips tingled with sensations he very well could handle, but that drove him so unbelievably insane. Without thinking twice, Simon's lips were void of the human façade that always incased them, and he took a moment to take a short breath of hot air before pressing them against Markus' own silver and blue-toned lips, feeling something so much more than before. The feelings of tenderness and understanding laid before him, and all he had to do was press his lips against Markus' to feel utterly engulfed in them. He's sure that he thought a lot of things to Markus: his name, about how nice it felt, about how incredibly warm Markus was, but Simon wasn't in the mindset to control how loud his thoughts were right now. He was in the mindset to enjoy this blessing while it lasted. Markus deepened the kiss, moving his hands to Simon's hips and pulling him closer as his tongue passed over Simon's bottom lip. Simon hadn't meant to let go of the clothes he had been entrusted with, but he heard the soft sounds of cloth fall to the floor between them. He placed his own hands ever so gently on Markus' chest, not pushing away but just feeling his warmth beneath them. If Markus was throwing thoughts in his direction, Simon was none the wiser. Their lips parted for a moment before Simon moved forward to close the gap, prompting Markus' hands to grip his hips tighter. Simon couldn't take the slight, continuous pressure from Markus and he leaned back into the wall behind him. Markus followed, the fingertips on his right hand sending a shock through Simon's system as they snaked under the hem of his shirt. Slowly, Markus ran his hand over his side, resting it along the back of his hip. Instinctively, perhaps, the skin on Simon's hip reacted to the lack of faux skin on Markus, and their true skin--smooth and white--met with an intense shock, as if Simon had been tossed into the waters by Jericho. Their bare lips touching had felt so different than the touch of his hand on him, and he wasn't sure if it was purely the intent of the action or if he was just that weak to someone grabbing his hip, android skin or not. Either way, Simon knew they had to stop here, before his resolve fully melted away from the extended close proximity with Markus' burning form.

Simon's hand moved before his lips could, disconnecting their android skin by grabbing Markus' wrist from over his shirt. "Markus." His voice was gentle, pleading even. He was sure he had the most pathetic look on his face, while Markus was paired with a furrowed brow and a warm smolder in his eyes. Everything about him was just so warm. He moved away, stooping down to gather the clothes Simon had dropped. Simon took the clothes back, watching him closely for any signs of anger, but Markus only took a moment to compose himself before slipping back into his shoes and placing his hat neatly atop his head. He glanced back, holding Simon's gaze for far too long before offering a gentle smile. 「I'd like to try that again, back in Jericho. For now, let's focus on the plan.」

Simon felt a chill go up his spine, and he wasn't sure if it was brought on by Markus' voice in his head, or if it was merely that Markus had taken that warmth with him when he left. 「Right. I'll meet up with Josh. ...Markus, stay safe.」 Markus merely nodded before taking his leave of the stall, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts and these not-as-warm clothes after having pushed the lock back into place. He waited a moment. They didn't have a lot of time, but he could afford to steel his nerves for a second longer. His hand instinctively touched where Markus' had previously been, both on his hip and then gently reaching up to his lips. Simon couldn't think about how perfect all that had been. He stepped up on the toilet, pushing up on the ceiling tile in order to put Markus' suit away from prying eyes. Pausing, Simon thought that maybe this would've been easier had he dropped the uniform off up here, allowing Markus to change into it without the need for a hand-to-hand exchange. He pushed the thought out of his mind because he wouldn't trade their last interaction for the world.

Stepping out of the stall, Simon focused on looking natural and controlling the color of his LED. He briskly left with his own stolen keycard, ready to meet up with Josh and wait in the service elevator for the last leg of their plan. Things were changing already, and for once...Simon felt optimistic. Everything was going to be okay because Markus was here with them now. They were going to earn their freedom via his lead, no doubt about it.

[torturingpeople]

"Rescue me from the mire; do not let me sink." During the fourth iteration of 1899, when everyone thought him gone for good, one Sir Edison Hollingsworth draws himself from the depths of literary circles, and leaves, in the wake of his passing, the pages of a manuscript. Nobody sees him deliver these pages, mind — some believe it was an individual rifling around in the ashy remnants of his home, publishing the details of his life posthumously, whereas others imagine it is the Laureate's final bow on the Neath's stage, to, perhaps, show them what-for. This autobiography is no letter to anyone, and, yet, it is a letter to all; one might call it a cautionary tale, or a sob, adrift on a sea of misery.

[wickerwax]

QuinObi Week 2024 (24/10)

Day 4: Psychometry/ Wartime love letters

(Separating Out the) Bad Touch

It wasn’t until he spotted the glove lying dusty against a wall that the creeping unease really gave throttling him a good go.

Up until that point it had just been the usual Sith temple experience: shit was too dark, too pointy, shadows (derogatory) were doing things that the miserable available light sources would not have bid them do... the usual. His shields were locked down tight, shunting off any probing tendrils of nasty darkside lurgies, and he had a rebreather on to battle the dust, and yeah, he wasn’t getting a good feeling about this place but that was both inevitable and the understatement of the cycle so he hadn’t been at risk of escalating.

Only before that he hadn’t been aware that his Shadow (affectionate, but on thin ice) had also found his way here. Hadn’t gotten any sense of him or his signature and yet-

Yet, upon very cautiously strolling into another overdone black-draped room covered in dimly glowing red symbology, something cold tapped quietly into his spine and proceeded to fill his bones with ice.

The largest, most intricate symbol burned on the far wall.

The lines of it looked unpleasantly wet, especially for something that appeared to be a part of the rock.

It pulsed faintly, slow, like a heartbeat at rest.

In the faint light, red gleamed off the synthleather glove on the floor. So easy to overlook. Plain and thin and currently covered in the same dust as the rest of the room, faint bootprints leading him onwards notwithstanding.

Unsafe. The Force whispered through the darkness. Danger. Caution.

Yes, he grumped back silently, I had rather gathered that this wasn’t the time for throwing coloured flimsi strips and dancing.

Danger.

Well. That wasn’t unhelpful but it also wasn’t. Helpful.

Frowning, he made his way carefully over the the wall and knelt, ghosting his fingers just above the glove as he tried to get a sense of it but his best beloved idiot hadn’t been distressed when he took the glove off, and it hadn’t been tainted by whatever had followed. With a sigh that made the rebreather make a dreadful rasping noise, he picked up the glove and stood, tucking it into his belt.

He stroked a hand over his chin as he considered the symbol. It was complex and spidery, with Sith runes written in all directions within larger runes and he wasn’t versed enough in the language to even begin to guess how deep those modifications went. Karking Sith.

He wished he felt less cold.

Very delicately, he reached out into the Force around the wall. It burned, frostbitten and gangrenous and he had to draw in a slow, careful breath as he let it rush over and around and not into him.

Briefly, he caught a glimpse of a very familiar hand, bare-skinned, reaching out to the glyph. Caught a moment of shock-confusion-no!- and yanked himself out of the stream before he could topple forwards and play a repeat performance.

Safe, it bubbled at him, tarry and leering. Safe, safe, safe. Just step forwards. Just come in.

Well. Absolutely not.

Danger. Caution, it whispered, faint and straining. Careful, careful, careful.

Obi-Wan studied the slow fade and return of the glow for several long moments. Considered the hibernation dormancy of his bond to Quinlan instead of shields or agony. Considered too, the way the darkside here was oily and freezing and full of well-preserved rot – yet the preservation appeared to be the key.

He put on the glove.

***

“And what did we learn, yet again?”

“Sith cooties are the worst cooties.”

“Quin.”

“Psychometric visions in Sith temples suck ass, Obes, I don’t know what you want me to say. I was using the tools I had to gather intel.”

“Despite the severe risks with that particular tool in this particular location, while investigating alone. You couldn’t have taken some holos, done a little information exchange in the Archives?”

“...”

“I can’t always have a partner with me on missions, mama tooka.”

“Yes, because it’s fussing to not want you to be eaten by a Sith temple. My mistake, it won’t happen again.”

“Obiiiiii-”

“Quinlan, I swear by the Force, I will space myself without hesitation.”

“Star’s sake, Obes, so dramatic. You gonna do your big flashy robe drop first?”

...

“Hey, wait, no! Obi! Put me down, I’m sick and frail!”

“Sick and frail, is it, hmm? Then I suppose you aren’t interested in-”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah! This feels like a reward for bad behaviour, Obi, I’m getting mixed signals here.”

“You don’t have good behaviour, Quin.”

***

“Mm? Obi?”

“It’s nothing, Quinlan. Go back to sleep, you need the rest.”

“...”

“I just... There was a moment there. I thought. You didn’t seem to be breathing.”

“Yeah, those flashbacks were karked up.”

“No, I- Quin. Quinlan. Don’t make me grieve you for something so avoidable. Just to avoid- to avoid extra travel, extra time. I love you. Idiot. Don’t make me lose someone else. Not like that.”

“Obi-Wan-”

“Bant would pull you back out of the Force just to kick your ass and I would cheer her on.”

“...”

“I’ll try to take one further second to consider my options in the future.”

“That’s all I ask. Honestly, I’m a saint, really-”

***

“Remember that Diplomacy assignment where we had to write letters to each other like we were on opposite sides of a war and were trying to find an appropriately diplomatic solution for all parties.”

“...the one where you made us both fail and we had to repeat it with new partners? Shockingly.”

“I thought I made quite a persuasive letter writer, master negotiator.”

“Quin. Darling. They were the most lewd examples of the written word I’d ever seen and you offered to read them aloud to display how effective your diplomacy was.”

“Hacking the alert system for my dramatic reading wasn’t my most subtle play.”

“Quite. Nor was staging a jailbreak for your confiscated flimsi copy.”

“Your confiscated flimsi copy.”

“Hmm?”

“I could feel how much it made you laugh. I wanted to keep that. Your laugh.”

“Darling.”

@quinobiweek

[asbestos-11]

huhu the struggle of finding blade fics that are about him and his struggle with immortality and whatnot. huhu pleaseeee there's too little gen fics about him.

[sleepboysummer]

i accidentally wrote a fanfic where should i post it

[omegawolverine]

oh!!! if u have any deadpool fic recs, i will gladly take them :] i have yet to delve into that part of the fandom

i def do but they're all spideypool or team red...if that's ur cup of tea then i def got u

edit:

the list is short but these are mostly chaptered so i hope that makes up for it TvT i think a lot of my bookmarks from my big spideypool hyperfixation were deleted unfortunately...anyways!

poolverine, terrible bdsm etiquette, canon typical hate fucking and violence. if u don't wanna see wade get physically injured (like not to spoil but it involves putting out cigars on his skin) for sexy purposes then this is NOT for u. also very unsanitary in general so if that's also not ur thing id pass this one

looooong series about spideypool meeting danny phantom and then becoming his sort of support system/dad like figures on accident...idk it's fun but also angsty, i haven't finished it but it's fantastic so far

pretty typical spideypool fic so there isn't rly any warnings outside the norm, tho based on the tag "avengers family" i think this is probably an age gap fic so idk how u feel about that 🤷‍♀️

soooo spideypool, 44 chapters.......anyways, i haven't read this in a loooong time so my warnings might be off, but the only thing that comes to mind is past SA

[lordstormageddidnt]

The context of this is that I saw someone on Reddit say that they had "hundreds of followers" on a social media platform (AO3) and I was curious to know how many you'd have to have before other people would say you had hundreds.

I'm also curious to know if the context matters-- is there a different threshold for social media followers vs distance (hundreds of yards), etc.