#she was purring like a fucking tractor

[fidgetspringer]

Kitty sitting is very ok when you get to start your mornings like this ❤️

[formulawolff]

Just thinking about, imagine in the back half of this season the Williams is going through a stretch where it’s just an absolute tractor, shit box (you know the usual) and it’s at the point where even gg can’t get much out of it and it’s starting to mess with her confidence but she keeping a tough front and trying not to show that. And one race they have just an absolutely brutal quali like p20 and p17 and gg just like shuts down and locks herself in her driver’s room and James & Alex are super worried and immediately call Toto and is like please help

this is quite literally what happens in alkaline for the latter half of the season!!! (how are y'all reading my mind here? we must all be on the same wavelength)

here's a little blurb because i miss my golden girl and her grumpy team principal bf! <3 (guest appearances by james and alex!)

"how did you get my number?"

his voice is gruff, laced with sternness as the driver sucks in a sharp breath, his retort fiery.

"your girlfriend."

the team principal sits up in his seat, keeping the phone pressed to his ear, "yes? what's going on?"

"she's well," alex albon begins, exhaling, "she's not doing good. she's shut herself in her motorhome. she won't open the door for me. she won't open the door for james. fuck, even lewis and george have tried. they've had no luck. what have you been doing the last couple hours? we've all been blowing up your phone."

the team principal arches a brow, pulling the phone away from his ear. momentarily, he scrolls through the nearly dozens upon dozens of notifications that flash across the screen.

shit.

"well," toto wolff swallows the lump in his throat, scratching the base of his neck, "i was caught up in meetings with some of the execs and team back in brackley. we were on zoom for a little longer than i anticipated-"

the driver swiftly interjects, the desperation oozing in his tone with every word.

"i understand but she needs you. she won't let anyone in. i know she will though, if it's you."

"i'll be there as soon as i can," the team principal clicks the button on his mouse, shutting down his setup.

it only takes two minutes before the team principal is packed up, slamming the door to his office, marching out of the mercedes paddock.

he heads in the direction of the sprawling williams home base, chirping greetings to the various team members lingering about. he's familiar with this route, as it is one he's taken numerous times before.

making his way towards her motorhome, he recognizes a figure donned in a williams windbreaker, the hood pulled up as rain patters.

"you finally made it! i knew lover boy could come save the day!"

"yeah, yeah," the team principal waves a hand, fishing in his pocket.

the key should be here somewhere.

it clinks, and he pulls it out, inserting it into the lock. alex albon scoffs, shaking his head.

"i should have known you would have had a key."

"would you like to come with?" toto inquires, pushing the door open.

"what kind of question is that? yes. of course i am. she needs me too, you know."

the inside of the motorhome is dark, all possible lights out. the air is still, stuffy even. there's leftover food on the counter, barely even picked at.

a meow rings out through the space, the patter of paws following in suit.

a kitten,only about four months old, springs onto the counter, purring as toto pats his head, "guten abend, kitty."

"you're not doing too much emotional support are you?" alex teases the tiny animal, scooping him into his arms, "you need to be with your mommy."

"speaking of which," toto clicks his tongue, tossing the leftovers into the nearest wastebin, "she's probably in her room."

the two make their way down the hall, the kitten still in alex's embrace. clearing his throat, toto calls.

"baby, i'm here! alex is with me."

there's a muffled yell that carries, "go away."

pushing the door open, toto rolls his eyes at the sight before him, "i'm not going away. not now."

his beautiful girl is swathed in her comforter, buried in the cozy fabric. her phone is on the nightstand, charging as it was more than likely dead. her hair is manageable, but it was easy to see that she had not moved from the space in a couple of hours.

there's an opened monster can resting on the floor beside the bed, and a few clothes strewn about on the floor.

"rough day?" his voice is soft as he sits on the edge of the bed.

alex joins, sitting on the opposite side, "it was a tough qualifying."

"i know," toto murmurs. reaching out, he brushes a strand from her forehead, "it's only one race, my love. you can come back from p17."

"not in that shitbox."

a chuckle rumbles in his chest, bubbling up, "well, it's what you have to work with until you can be behind the wheel of a real car."

that earns a grumble from alex, who allows the kitten to clamber over to his mama, "you're telling me."

"you know," toto glances over to the williams driver, "we could always have you in the reserves."

"unfortunately i have my life signed away at williams," alex shrugs, "it is what is for now. nothing i haven't dealt with before."

"baby," toto leans forward, planting a soft kiss on her temple, "you need to get up. let's get some food, yeah? i know you're probably not feeling it but how about a double date? i'll have alex get ahold of lily."

"she's worried about you too," alex chimes in, "we all are."

the mass of blanket stirs, wrinkling her nose, "ugh, maybe."

"come on now, schatzi," toto places a hand on her shoulder, "let's get up. get some fresh air."

"only if i get to pick the restaurant."

toto can't help but feel the corners of his curl into a quaint smile as the kitten burrows into next to his mom, the tiny purrs flooding the space.

"of course, baby. of course."

[airyairyaucontraire]

Watching The Mandalorian chapter 22, "Guns For Hire."

According to the Disney+ blurb, this is 46 minutes and the Mandalorian visits "an opulent world." So that actually is a reasonable length for an episode. The "opulent world" part makes me think of Canto Bight and how much I've wanted a heist episode somewhere flashy like a casino - "The Prisoner" was sort of a heist, but everyone was a jerk and I want a heist where Our Friends work together - Boba and Fennec and Din, and if the fates really smile upon me, Cobb too. And there would be disguises and snappy outfits and double-crosses (that were actually a ruse to gain an opponent's trust enemy-of-my-enemy style) and daring bluffs and reversals of fortune and it would be fast-paced and fun. I love the start of Return of the Jedi because it's a heist

although that heist does not turn out so well for ol' Boba.

Anyway let's see what this is all about (I bet not that).

like I suspect this episode is going to be more about Bo-Katan being the Main Character instead of getting her own TV show like an honest person

anyway, we're in space, space is the place, you can soak in a tank and have fishy snacks poured in from a goblet, Grogu would love this

these people get to have all their alien dialogue in subtitles but still no Mandalorians speak Mando'a

still can't really get over the fact that George Lucas while presumably not drunk decided to name a race of squidly people "Mon Calamari."

Axe Woves is managing to be quite charismatic in this scene but he still has a silly name - but then it's no sillier than Saw Guerrera. How many people in this saga are named after forestry or carpentry tools?

okay I am sincerely appreciating these characters in massive head and face covering make-up/CG elements emoting their way through heartfelt dialogue about fate and love

awwww she gave him little tentacle beard kissies!

okay, so Din and Grogu are just with Bo-Katan, nobody said that was the plan, but there they are following her around because she's the Main Character now.

and okay

she is A Mandalorian

but by jove she's not The Mandalorian!

and sure maybe just being a side character is all Din's ever wanted

but it's not what I want to be watching

Grogu thinks getting snagged in a tractor beam is fun!

extravagantly evil droid design, really fine work from the Empire there

"I've never been here before, have you?" "I haven't even heard of it," said Din, in a glorious return to form.

is that FUCKING Jack Black

"I hope you like secretions"

look if Jack Black asked me if I liked secretions I would pretty much have to say yes

his beard really is a thing of glory, I'm happy to have it on my screen

(am I actually going to somewhat enjoy this episode?)

and LIZZO

Jack Black pronounces programme "progrum"

I love how Lizzo just has this projected hologram stained glass window dealie following her around

incidentally it doesn't matter if these characters are given names, this is such flagrant and blatant stunt casting that they are obviously just Jack Black and Lizzo.

oh his name is supposedly "Captain Bombardier"? that's not even a name, that's two job titles

put a bit of effort in

call him Glup Shitto

consort of Glup Lizzo

the subtitles call her "The Dutchess." With a T.

GROGU IS PURRING

GROGU IS DOING LITTLE GRUNTY PURRS

fucking - DOC BROWN

what are they DOING

it's this thing where each time I settle into thinking "Hey, this is starting to feel like a real, proper episode of The Mandalorian where they go to a place and there's a mess and they get roped into sorting it out," I get violently yoinked out of the anticipation of enjoyment by another guest star who's SO famous and idiosyncratic that there's no way for them to inhabit a minor role without being obtrusive

oh it's a roger-roger!

and a slap-chop droid!

you've got an entire planet of people none of whom like to make things or fix things?

I mean, if they'd actually followed through on the IG-11 plotline, this episode about reliance on droids would be more interesting. And you know what? I bet these Ughnaughts would have one of those memory circuits you couldn't find on Nevarro or Tatooine. And we could all be listening to the voice of Taika Waititi.

okay, another good return to form - Din's contacts, cultural competency and language skills are essential to success

it's so nice just to get to see him do what he does so well!

incidentally did you guys just leave Grogu with Lizzo?

blatantly shifty Lizzo and her equally shifty husband Jack Black?

I mean sure she was skritching his little downy head and feeding him secretions when you were there but it's weirdly trusting of you

Din. Kindly stop kicking the droids - okay, you very much asked for that. Got your bell rung? What's that, your ninety-fourth concussion now?

it looks like the set design people certainly had a good time with this space shopping mall, and it was a fun day to be a costumed extra

honestly I'm rooting for the droid to escape, he was just doing his job and Din kept kicking him in the dang leg!

like, are droids people? who hang out together in bars? did you just murder a blue-collar worker who ran away from you because you were attacking him unprovoked?

they keep the droid's "remains" in a morgue drawer and draw what looks like blood from it

oh, so she actually gave him the Darksaber back?

(some time later, I wasn't moved to give commentary but that's slightly a good thing because I wasn't INFURIATED)

Grogu has found his true niche: helping Lizzo cheat at games (I told you she was shifty)

exile to the moon is NOT A GOOD IDEA have you watched neither The Clone Wars nor My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic?

Okay, I have enjoyed this episode at least 80% more than any other episode this season, and seeing that it was directed by Bryce Dallas Howard, who is amazing at this show, I understand why. I still don't think it was very well written and it suffered from some of the failures of joined-up thinking that have beset this season, but Bryce Dallas Howard can smash out an episode of The Mandalorian and no two ways about it

to quote me at the start of my post:

like I suspect this episode is going to be more about Bo-Katan being the Main Character instead of getting her own TV show like an honest person

yep

[nathaniel-donovan]

"Oh sure." he chuckled, agreeing that this felt more Hollywood than Tonopah Valley. He'd admit, he had been surprised when he first heard - his first thought was is this it as well as a small concern for Gen. The only reason he knew of her was because she was Landon's Aunt, didn't matter the scandal in his eyes, he still wondered if she was okay because of it. He hadn't judged, no, not when he hadn't exactly been morally correct in his own past. All he had thought was oh shit.

Resting briefly on the arm of the couch he looked towards his cat, rolling his eyes softly at the way he was still purring. Chip was like a tractor, though Nate just figured that was because of how big he was. "Nah not this time." He chuckled. "Wasn't there." He had been with Alara so that was something. "Fucked up though, right?" Of course he knew what had happened and why, he just wasn't going to say too much. He never did. Anything shared between him and Cole mostly remained just that. "You good with a takeout then because I'm not cooking, the way I can't be bothered is fuckin' alarming." He was joking - doing what he did best, chuckling soon after.

@nathaniel-donovan Where: Nate's

"I didn't think this was going to be the first thing to come out." Chloe was reading the article again, zooming in on the pictures of the town's Queen B, as the article so graciously called her. "This really feels like something out of Hollywood, don't you think?" Truthfully, she was glad she missed the event. There was nothing worse than having that fear of gun shots, gas, and panic in the room. Unfortunately, it still wasn't something she was used to.

With Chip on her chest, she finally placed down her phone and looked up at Nate. "You good though, right? You didn't do that stupid thing where you run after everyone else and lose an arm and leg in the process." Of course he did, that wasn't even a question, but Chloe still liked to hang the question in the open.

[hedwigstalons]

International Breakdown

Thunderbird Witch has a problem

Another little fic written for #irrelief set by @gumnut-logic.  This is for @willow-salix who wanted anything using her OC, Selene.  This is a little more sweary than my usual offerings but then so is Selene

xoxoxox

The radio was on, the autopilot was doing its thing and Thunderbird Witch was eating up the miles towards home.  Selene sang along, belting out words at the top of her voice and tapping out the beat on the edge of the steering wheel.

 Ok, she had been majorly sceptical of the upgrades to her little car to begin with but after a few long haul trips to the island she could see the benefits of being able to fly.  It certainly made visiting clients easier.  It was a lot faster in the air than on the ground and she didn’t have to worry about traffic jams.  In just ten minutes she should be back on the outskirts of London ready to finish her journey on the more conventional four wheels.  She considered calling out for pizza; she should be home before the delivery ready to gorge herself on the cheesy goodness.  Her stomach rumbled at the prospect.

Her stomach wasn’t the only thing making ominous noises.

The engine coughed and spluttered; a disconcerting thing to happen at 15,000 feet.  The radio was swiftly muted.  It was one thing doing her best rendition of Les Mis while the car was purring like a kitten but an engine stutter was an instant mood killer.

 The engine coughed again.

 Selene urged her precious car onwards, invoking prayers to every deity imaginable not to let her plunge to her death in a twisted heap of mangled metal and glass.  The car continued to do its best impression of a tractor and jolts could be felt shuddering though its body as the engine misfired.  

 The looming tide of dread threatened to tip the scales into full blown panic as the engine gave its largest hiccup yet.  It was time to contact the other omnipresent being in her life.

 “John, sweetie.  Are you busy?”

 Up on Thunderbird Five John’s attention instantly swivelled to the voice coming through the private comms line.  His emergency responder senses latched on to the tone he only heard when Selene was stressed.  Really stressed.  He switched control of monitoring over to Eos so he could give his witch his full attention.

 “Never too busy for you, babe.”

 “So, um, if the vehicle you were flying suddenly, um, wanted to stop flying.  What would you do?”

 Something told him this wasn’t a hypothetical question. The stressed tone had taken on that higher pitched edge of rising fear.  A quick tap into the diagnostics for Thunderbird Witch showed a serious engine fault.  Unfortunately, unlike the other Thunderbirds Selene’s car only had a single means of propulsion to rely on.  And no wings. If the engine cut out gravity would be making itself known very quickly.

 “Selene, honey.  Firstly just breathe for me.  Now, are the landing controls working?”

 “Landing controls?”

 Ok, so the fear of falling out the sky had wiped all rational thought from her head.  Like trying to land.  John knew he needed to tread carefully or risk the mortal dread overriding her ability to respond.  Selene had never been a particularly enthusiastic flyer and having to deal with an emergency was a step too far outside her comfort zone.

 “Landing controls.  The red button.  I need you to press it for me and tell me what happens.”

 Selene made a jab at the red button and instantly returned her hand to the wheel.  He knuckles were white as she gripped the wheel for dear life as though trying to hold the car up in the sky through her own brute strength and willpower.

 The automatic landing system overrode the autopilot and the car began to sink towards the ground.

 “Um, I’m going down?”

 “At normal rate?”

 It didn’t matter that John now had the full read-outs from her craft up in front of him and could see the rate of descent himself, he just wanted to keep her talking.

 “Uh, I think so.  It’s a bit more….bumpy…than usual.”

 He watched the holographic representation of her altimeter as it ticked towards zero, willing the car to reach the ground quickly but not too quickly.

 Another jolt and the car dropped a good five foot before the engine kicked in again.  The plunge towards the ground came with an accompanying yelp over the comms followed by gasping breaths as a more appropriate rate of descent was regained.

 “You’re doing brilliantly sweetie.  Just keep her straight and let the car do the rest. You got this.”

 The altitude readings fell lower and lower.  Closer to the ground and safety.

 Out of the darkness the ground loomed up from beneath the rapidly descending craft, her headlamps picking out the sweep of a grassy field.  At least she didn’t need to worry about avoiding civilisation.  Or trees.  People tended to ask awkward questions if they saw the unusual vehicle coming in to land. She also didn’t trust having to pilot the craft any more than the bare minimum of keeping it in a straight line. She felt the whirr of motors as the wheels swivelled back to their driving position and a thunk as the car settled on to the ground.

 Selene jabbed at the red button again, cutting the still spluttering engine and letting blissful silence descend.  She leant forwards and rested her head against the steering wheel.  The only sound was the quiet plinks of cooling metal.

 “Selene?  Babe? Are you still with me?”

 She took deep breaths as a wave of nausea spread over her, not trusting herself to speak until the feeling subsided.

 “Selene, are you ok?”

 “Of course I’m not fucking ok” she screamed into the darkness, causing John to flinch at the sudden change in volume.  “This death trap threatened to dump me out of the sky. I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere, I’m tired and I can’t get home”

 Bizarrely John found this outburst strangely reassuring. Once Selene retreated into herself she could block out the world.  A Selene on the angry side of frightened he could deal with.  

 He checked her co-ordinates.  

 She was right about one thing; she was in the middle of nowhere.  Rural Derbyshire if his UK geography was accurate.

 “Just try stating it up again for me.”

 “And then what?  I’m not flying this bloody thing again.  At least not until someone has checked it out.  And it’s not like I can just call the AA to come give it a once over and a jump start.”

 “Look.  Just stay there.”  He chose to ignore the muttered ‘not like I can go anywhere else’.  “I’ll send Virgil to pick you up.  You were meant to be heading to the island anyway tomorrow. This way you just get here a bit early. I’ll head down and meet you at home.”

 The comms went silent for Selene as John contacted his brothers and arranged for a recovery service.  Thankfully the green behemoth was currently deployed on a rescue but that was winding up.  An inventory check showed that there should be just enough space in the pod to pick up the car without having to return to base first.  He could have Selene back on the inland and in his arms before the clock struck midnight.  Or should that be midday if they were going by Tracy Island time?

 For Selene the silence was a chance to try and recover her heart rate.  She regretted subjecting John to her verbal torrent but it had gone some way to bringing her back down to Earth.

 Down to Earth.  That sounded nice.

 What she really needed was to feel the soil beneath her feet.  To ground herself and rebalance the flow of energy.  Flying always put her slightly out of sorts.  Flying coupled with a near death experience left her feeling decidedly off kilter.  She felt the urge to stand beneath the waxing moon and breathe the night air.  To free herself from her mechanical prison.  To reconnect with the Earth in a way that didn’t result in her smeared across the grass.

 She kicked off her shoes into the footwell and stripped off her socks.

 Before she could release herself from the claustrophobic confines of the car John’s voice came back through the comms.

 “Thunderbird Two is about an hour out from you.  Just sit tight and Virgil will be with you soon.”

 “Great.  You think that brother of yours….holy crap, what was that?

 She squealed as something bumped into the car, making the vehicle rock slightly on its suspension.  For the second time that night her heart rate climbed.  She could feel the thudding all the way up to the back of her throat.  She checked that the door locks were engaged then instinctively shrunk away from the glass, sinking down low in her seat.  All thoughts of grounding herself driven from her mind.

 “Selene?”

 “Someone’s out there.”  It came out as a hoarse whisper.

 The outside world was pitch black.  Selene could see nothing beyond the boundaries of the car.

 “There can’t be.  There isn’t a house for miles.  What on earth would anyone be doing in a field in the middle of the night?”

 “Well I’m here aren’t I?”

 “I think the chances of two flying cars breaking down in the same place are remote.  I’m not picking up any other human life signs in your area.”

 “That is not reassuring.  I don’t care about chances, I’m telling you, someone is out there.  I’ve seen Blair Witch Project.  This is not going to end well.”

 “This is not like one of those stupid films you and Scott like to watch.”

 “Cretin.  Just tell Virgil to get here quickly.”

 Selene rechecked the door locks just in case they had miraculously sprung open over the course of the conversation.  John might not believe her but she knew she had felt something.  Cars didn’t rock themselves.  She grabbed a blanket she had stashed in the back of the car, huddled down as low as possible, and prepared to wait it out.  

 The night stayed silent and free of any more mysterious bumps.  It had been a long day, even before her unexpected flight deviation.  In the absence of any more encounters with malevolent beings Selene found herself dozing off under the warmth of the blanket.

 A sharp rapping on the window dragged her back into consciousness with a startled jolt.  She scrabbled at the blanket and only ended up startling herself further as she caught the horn; the sudden noise blaring through the night.

 There was a rattle as the door handle was tried and then a face appeared close to the glass, hands cupped around it in an effort to see into the car better.  Selene pulled the blanked over her head and lay still in a futile attempt to hide.

 The tapping on the glass sounded again.

 “International Breakdown.  Would madam care for some assistance?”

 Gordon.  

 Selene untangled herself from the blanket and unlocked the doors.  She quickly wrapped its warm folds around herself again as a blast of icy air filled the car.  

 “Gordon, how the hell did you get here?”

 She tried to look dignified and not like she’d had the crap scared out of her.  The grin on Gordon’s face as he braced an arm against the car roof and peered down at her showed she was fooling no one.

 “Duh, I flew here.  Like you.”

 “So why the hell didn’t I hear you arrive.  And where is Two anyway?”

 “Virg had to park her a couple of fields over. Couldn’t risk roasting the locals. John said you had some trouble with them.”

 Selene gave him a death glare.  Gordon ignored it, instead choosing to wander round the car and get into the passenger seat.  He flicked the blue button that kicked the engine into life then leant across and twiddled the controls for the lights.

 In the beam of the headlights that illuminated a broad sweep of the field ahead could be seen the forms of several cows laying asleep on the ground around them.  The beasts associated vehicles in their field with food.  Their stomachs and their natural curiosity had caused them to wander over and congregate around the small black car.

 Gordon activated his comms.

 “Thunderbird Four to Thunderbird Two.  Car’s sounding like a tank but I think it’ll make it to your position without needing the tool kit.  Heading your way now.”

 “FAB Gordon.”

 Accompanied by much sputtering and juddering from the protesting engine Selene coaxed the car around the cows and towards the field edge in the direction indicated by Gordon who leapt out to open and close gates as required.  Really she was lucky the cows had been on the other side of the field when she first landed. A collision with half a tonne of prime dairy stock would not have been fun.

 Soon the car was nestled into the pod, safely strapped down amongst all the other equipment and Selene was safely settled in the cockpit alongside Virgil and Gordon.  VTOL engaged with a roar as the mighty transporter made its return to base with its additional cargo.

 By the time Thunderbird Two made it back to the island John was ready and waiting for her in the hanger.

 If John was expecting to be greeted as the hero of the hour he was sorely mistaken.  Instead of Selene rushing forward for a hug he found himself on the receiving end of a finger jabbed in his chest.

 “You, John Tracy, are a shit.”

 His eyes widened as hers narrowed.

 “What have I done now?”

 “You told me there were no life signs in that field. You lied to me and made out that it was my imagination.”

 “I didn’t lie to you.  I would never lie to you.”

 “So how come you were able to warn Virgil and Gordon about those bloody cows?  I know you did because they told me.  Did your scanners miraculously get an upgrade?”

 John found himself edging backwards.  He knew he was baiting the tiger but he couldn’t let the false accusation go unchallenged.

 “I didn’t lie.  What I said was there were no human life signs in that field.”

 Unsurprisingly this did not endear him to Selene.

 “I have had to put up with Gordon teasing me the whole way back because of you.  If I start finding little stick men hanging up around the place I will know exactly who to blame.  Now I’m going to bed.  I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day here, I have been up for the last 18 hours and I’m tired.”

 “I’ll come up and help you get settled.”

 “No.  You won’t. Virgil, who is nice, has agreed to take a look at my car but not until it’s clean.  If you want to stand any chance of coming near me ever again I suggest you get scrubbing.”

 Selene stalked off towards the living quarters leaving a slightly stunned astronaut in her wake.

 John felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder.  He turned to see smirking chestnut eyes.

 “That’s one pissed off witch you have there.”

 John nodded weakly and allowed Virgil to lead him towards the car which had been moved out of the hanger and on to the runway.

 He groaned as a bucket of soapy water and sponge appeared at his side.

 No wonder Virgil didn’t want to work on the car yet. It looked like the cows had some serious digestive issues.  The usually gleaming black paintwork was splattered and smeared with cow shit from its journey across the fields.  As he got closer the smell hit him as the tropical heat warmed the muck and baked it on.

 “Best get started Johnny.  Once you finish here you can move on to cleaning out Two.  This is nothing compared to what fell off the bottom into the pod on the flight home.”

 With another slap on the back Virgil was gone, leaving John to his unenviable task.  

 He sighed, picked up the sponge and started cleaning.

[allegiancewillcarryus]

S1E1 - VLD Rewatch

Putting this beneath the cut because it’s a long one! Not every episode is gonna prompt this much talking- I hope

And right off the bat I am being teased

Okay so I do remember being a Dreamworks stan when I first started this series and being so excited that Dreamworks’ name was on it. I knew what Voltron was at the time mainly because of my dad; he’d watched 80s Voltron as a kid and would talk about it occasionally which I think is why he puts up with my fanboy bullshit over this cartoon? Anyway I wasn’t ever going to watch Voltron at first, and the main reason I started the series was for the bonds with the Lions- I was a weird child

When I saw the Kerberos mission I do remember thinking “oh shit this is gonna be boring” and then BOOM aliens. Also, it hurts me watching Shiro in so much pain and terror

I immediately fell for the Garrison trio, no doubt about that. Everything they do is perfect. And Jesus Christ, Iverson is such a dick

Pidge being smug about building her own computer is my life. Also love the scary little sketches of Voltron she did

“That’s NOT one of ours!” PLOT TWIST Shiro’s in there

Lance focusing on a pretty girl instead of the literal alien spaceship is a mood

“Don’t put me under!” God I can’t imagine how horrifying this would be. Imagine going through all that and developing PTSD and then hearing your brain state is about to be altered so that you’re completely under someone else’s control I hate the Garrison for doing this to Shiro

“We need a distraction” BOOM KEEF

I want him to hit me that hard

Bring back the red bandana 2k18

Yeah I immediately shipped Klance regardless of my plans not to ship anything it was inevitable okay I was and still am a sucker for rivals to lovers

The moment Keith smirks and decides to jump the cliff was the moment I fell in love with him

I was a blind dumbass and didn’t actually ship Sheith until s2, but looking back now I think that was more my determination not to get into shipping anything than not liking Sheith because DAMN these two

Poor Pidge

Keith is so pretty

Smart Hunk

Also why would a frequency be shaped like a line of rock outcroppings is that an actual thing

Never did understand that

iS tHiS tHe VoLtRon

“Looks like there's a forcefield around it” no shit

Blue loves you baby #sheslookingatLance

So much screaming

Whenever someone makes fun of the group for screaming so much in the first episode I just

How wOULD YOU REACT

tHE PURRING

Lance immediately connects with Blue so deeply that he's able to pilot and fight a Galra ship even though he has so little experience and being the “worst pilot ever” according to Keith I love him

“Guess we're all ditching class tomorrow” and the next year?

K/L banter is my favorite kind of banter

“I'm not gonna let it happen again” Shiro, I love you, but this is an entire castle full of aliens as far as you know

“I guess we're going that way” I'd be the asshole exploring every inch of the castle EXCEPT for where it wanted to guide me

One of Coran's first words is fuck

Alexa this is so sad play d

Zarkon it took you 10,000 years and you still only have one lion?

Fuck you, Sendak

I forgot when he didn't look a crazed evil asshole

You forget to mention the Yellow Lion can kick some ass just like Hunk

Keith's so pleased to get Red it's adorable

I would not mind being stuck on the Green lion's planet for the rest of my life at all

YELLOW LION YELLOW LION

SASSY HUNK 💛💛💛💛💛

Shiro's so fucking cute help me

He unknowingly comforts Pidge with her own father's words I'm crying

GO. BE GREAT.

Hunk saving Lance and Blue in Yellow by exploding out of the ground will always be my favorite lion moment in the entire show

“Your suits of armor” that don't protect half your vital organs and won't match your lions for most of the show ANYWAY

eVERYONE REASSURING KEEF ABOUT FINDING RED HHHHHHH

“They LIED to us!” Or you scared the shit out of them by firing up the tractor beam?

cOmMaNdEr hOLt iS yOuR fAtHeR!?

bY mYsELf?? Keef honey

“Patience… yields focus… Gotcha” GHHHHGHHHHHHH

BiNgO

iTs Me

KEEF

yOuR bUdDy

I AM YOUR PA-LA-DIN

I'M BONDING WITH YOU

GOOD KITTY

LET'S ROLL

fuck me I forgot I'd have to handle seeing Shiro fighting

FUCK EM UP HUNK

Not that I don't love Keith as a leader but watching Shiro meeting Black for the first time is hurting my heart

Red is smaller than Blue

cOmBiNe!!!

“It's been an honor flying with you boys” this line BROKE MY HEART the first time I heard it and it BREAKS MY HEART NOW never tell me Keith is disrespectful or doesn't care about his team he's known this group of rowdy kids for what a DAY and uses what could be his last words to say THAT??? And yes I am going into more detail on this later

Sendak’s “I just shat myself” face when he first sees Voltron is beautiful

The contrast between (most) Galra's cowardice and team Voltron's determination to keep going no matter what kills me

[thespace-dragon]

Goodness me, I took so long on this one... Banner creds: @girlskylark cuz shes a bro

Summary: Solo missions are never a good idea. Lance knew this, argued it, but does anyone listen to him? Nope. And now he was captured and probably going to be tortured. Awesome, this was just the best thing ever! (Someone please just come rescue him, cuffs are awful.)

WC: 5627

AO3

Lance’s last words were probably going to be “Oh, quiznak”. There was no getting around that. That was him: summed up in two words. He was pretty sure they translated to “oh, fuck” but he could never really be sure (Alteans, right?). He yanked on Red’s levers and circled back around to face the Galra fighter in front of him.

Just like every time they try to run a routine mission, it never exactly goes to plan.

Never.

Not once have things gone to plan.

They should know this by now, but do they? Nope.

Red thrummed with energy and Lance slammed the levers forward, causing Red to dive into the fray. She spun and wove through all the fighters, each of Lance’s shots hitting their mark. His Lion purred proudly as they raced through open space, trying to get out of the swarm of fighters.

“There has to be a way to take down that freaking cruiser!” Lance muttered, glaring at it through one of his screens. Red thrummed in agreement. The ion cannon fired, and he slammed his controls forward, putting Red into a nosedive.

They barely dodged out of the way, but as soon as Lance brought Red out of the dive, another shot went off, nailing them. He grunted as Red’s whole frame shook. Everything went dark after a few seconds and he couldn’t hear Red in the back of his mind anymore.

“No no no no—”

Lance tried to run diagnostics, check the damage manually—anything to get Red moving again. He looked out and saw the cruiser coming toward them, the tractor beam beginning to light up.

He pulled at the controls frantically. “C’mon Red, I know you’re still there!”

Bright purple light filled Red’s cabin and Lance squinted against it. Well, this shit day just got worse. With Red down for the count, Lance’s mind kicked into overdrive. He punched in the sequence to turn on his emergency beacon and activated the tracker in his armor. It would probably be taken, but as long as it was going, Pidge would find it. He had to believe it. The team would find him.

The Galra cruiser’s bay opened and swallowed Lance and the Red Lion; the violet light disappeared, and Lance was left in the dark. He materialized his bayard and held it at the ready. He was safe here for the time being, he could hold them off until the rest of Voltron got to him. He could do this. He could do this.

Red couldn’t power up enough to get her shield up, and Lance knew that as soon as the Galra figured out how to open the hatch, he was a goner.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Lance flinched and raised his bayard. He was scared—oh god was he terrified—but he would fight until he was done.

“Com log 38, some star-date nonsense and blah blah blah… But I’m Lance, the Blue—no, the Red Paladin of Voltron. And it would be nice if someone could go back to Earth and tell my ma that I love her. Thanks.”

There was no reply as the door was pried open and the shootout began.

Keith adjusted his frequency as he began to pick up a distress signal from the Arloqiuan system. He was only a few clicks away.

“…Red—sssskk…be nice—shhhk—Earth sshhhhhkkkkk… love—thanks.”

The transmission was cutting in and out. Keith fiddled with the readouts as he prepared to fly in and help but he froze at the mention of Earth. Barely thinking about it, he slammed forward on the thrusters and sped through open space to reach the Arloqiuan system in record time. He heard Kolivan call out to him through the coms, but Keith wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t afford to let the universe lose a paladin of Voltron. Not when they had a chance.

Keith flipped off his communications and focused on flying in to intercept the battlecruiser; it was gliding through the outer reaches of the largest gas giant in the Arloqiuan system. A few sparse moons were orbiting the planet as well, looking to be moderately populated. Keith grit his teeth, a low growl escaping him as he flew in closer, eyes searching the of debris the cruiser was leaving behind.

Various Galra ships drifted in the wake of broken Rebel ships that trailed behind the cruiser. Some of them still sizzling from a Lion’s laser beam. Keith circled the cruiser in his own Galra fighter and tried to find the best place to get started. The bay doors at the rear of the ship were caught in the middle of their closing sequence;  flashes of light and giant red force-shield kept it from closing.

Lance.

There was a small gap at the top of the bay doors, just enough for his fighter to squeeze through. “Here goes nothin’,” he muttered to himself as he careened his fighter through the opening and crash landed it on the other side of the hangar, lasers already firing.

Causing as much damage as he could before his ship lost its integrity, Keith kept firing until it slid into a pillar and the sudden stop threw him forward into his dashboard. Grunting, he righted himself, grabbed his knife and willed his mask into place.

But he didn’t even have a chance.

Just as he opened his ship’s doors, there were lasers blasting and he was pinned down in the cockpit. Keith cursed. The Blade of Marmora agents almost never carried firearms, all he had was his knife. Damn, he really wished he had his paladin armor, at least that had a shield.

The firing stopped, and Keith could hear a heavy-footed Galra walk up to the base of his ship. “Step out of the ship, filth! Your comrade has already been seized.”

He gripped his knife’s handle tighter; so tight the gloves he was wearing creaked with the pressure. They had Lance. They had a paladin of Voltron and the Red Lion. And now they were about to get their hands on a Blade, the information held between the two of them could turn the tides of this millennium-long war.

“Fuck,” he bit out. His mind was racing, thinking through all of the possibilities he had. Stick it out and try to fight his way out or give up and break out. Instantly his mind went through how each option could possibly play out. Fighting obviously carried the risk of dying, if it weren’t for Lance, he would have already been looking for something within his ship to aid him. But he had no idea what Lance’s condition was. For all he knew, Lance could be unconscious and the risk of him—or even both of them dying would be an untold amount higher.

Keith sighed and ground out a couple more curses before sliding his knife down the ramp. A dark chuckle made its way up the ramp followed by, “Smart move, Blade. Knock him out and put him with the paladin.”

There was a rush and Keith struggled, taking out a few guards—a feat considering he was unarmed—before he was knocked unconscious and his vision went black.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

…

When Lance came to, his head was throbbing and each time someone else slammed on the metal door locking them inside, pain made his vision white out around the edges. He winced, groaning as he forced himself back into the realm of the living to tell the jackwagon who was banging on the door to quit it.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Would you stop that? Some people are trying to keep their heads from pounding and they can’t do that when you’re banging on the quiznakking door like that!”

“Lance? You’re awake?”

Lance groaned and forced himself upright and scowled in the dark. “Yes, I’m awake, no thanks to the noise you’re—Wait, Keith? ”

Keith knelt in front of him, suddenly very close and still, Lance could barely make out his features, their cell was too dark to make out much of anything. One midnight eye was close to swelling shut and his hair was a mess of tangles, but from what Lance could see in the dark, Keith looked extremely relieved that he was awake.

“Keith? What the cheese? What are you doing here?” Lance tugged on his wrists, but they were handcuffed together in front of him. Looking at Keith, his were handcuffed as well, but the cuffs were scratched up from banging on the door.

“I caught your distress signal and the open comm link you had going,” Keith explained, reaching up to tilt Lance’s head side to side, checking for injuries. “I was only on the other side of the neighboring system when I picked it up. Came as fast as I could.”

Lance jerked his head out of Keith’s grasp (gentle as it was) and gaped at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Kolivan?”

Keith frowned and sat back on his haunches. “‘Supposed to be’ being the key phrase there.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re even out here in the first place.”

“…it was nothing, I was just out here to be out here.”

Lance scoffed and rolled his eyes, wincing when his neck twinged. “Look here, dude, we are captives on a Galra battle cruiser despite both of our best efforts. Might as well be honest with each other now.”

The other boy growled and looked away. “Got bored.”

“See, was that so hard?”

“Don’t push it, Lance.”

“Fine, fine.”

The two of them sat in relative silence, the thrumming from the ship and the regular rhythm of their own breathing being the only things they heard. They couldn’t even hear what was going on outside of their cell.

“So…we really are stuck here, aren’t we?” Lance said after the uneasy silence got to be too much for him. He tugged on the handcuffs again, just to do something, anything really.

“Yeah…” Keith sighed. He shifted so he was leaning against the wall beside Lance, instead of kneeling in front of him. “Even if we got out, it would have to be with Red, my ship is wrecked.”

“Lemme guess, you rushed in like always, didn’t you?”

“I can turn back time and not do that and let the battlecruiser warp away with you on it. And the Red Lion.”

Lance pouted. “Alright fine, not a hairbrained idea, stupid, not completely stupid.”

“There aren’t degrees of stupidity, Lance.”

“What d’you know, drop-out.”

Keith sighed and knocked the back of his head on the wall behind them, sounding completely exasperated with Lance already and he hadn’t even been awake for five minutes yet. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do, so we are just going to have to get along until we can think of a way out of this.”

He had to begrudgingly agree to that. There was no way Lance was going to let himself stay on this ship and eventually be dropped off at Zarkon’s door.

“Do you think they’ll feed us?”

Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance, not sure what he was getting at with the random question. “Why?”

Lance shrugged. “Dunno, but like, obviously we are important, y’know? So, wouldn’t they feed us?”

“Did they hit your head too?”

“I woke up yelling at you for banging on the door because of my head, so what do you think?”

Keith sighed and stared at their cell door again. “Forget I asked.”

“Yeah yeah, act all cool and calmly collected or whatever,” the other boy huffed, looking away with his nose in the air.

“Calm, cool and collected is the phrase.”

“Whatever.”

The quiet thrumming of the ship filled the air, both of them sitting in awkward silence, toeing the line of awkward and comfortable at the same time. As much as Lance was a welcome face, Keith couldn’t bring himself to make conversation. What was there to tell? The Blade of Marmora were secretive by nature and Keith kept to that creed since he didn’t really care to talk about himself anyway.

This was how it was going to be he realized slowly. For the time being, at least. Keith ran through all the information he had. The Red Lion was in the hanger, fairly undamaged. He and Lance were unhurt, disregarding the minor head injuries. His fighter was destroyed. They were being held in an unknown location in the ship.

All in all, it wasn’t looking good for them.

Footsteps echoed outside of their cell, louder than the humming of the ship, and grew steadily louder until they stopped right outside the door. Either the guards stationed outside were silent or there weren’t any before.

“I want the Blade first.”

The door slid open and the Commander sneered down at them. One of the guards stepped in and raised their rifle. Keith remembered scrambling to get out of the way and hearing Lance shout just before the rifle knocked him in the temple and his world went dark again.

Lance waited for what seemed like hours and hours before Keith was dumped back in the cell. His body was limp and still cuffed, and from what he could hear over the low din of the ship, Keith’s breathing was ragged as well. As soon as the door was shut behind the guard, he scooted over to his comrade and gently rolled Keith over.

“Keith? Keith, buddy, c’mon wake up.” He patted Keith’s cheek, trying to wake him up as gently as he could. A cursory glance down his body was enough to tell Lance that Keith had endured some form of torture. There were more rips and tears in his suit, and a ring of bruises around his neck. Lance swallowed heavily and tried again. “C’mon, I know you’re still there.”

It took a while, but after patting and drumming his fingers on Keith’s chest plate, the former Red Paladin seemed to fight his way back to consciousness. Lance breathed a sigh of relief and sank back on his heels. Neither of them could afford to be off their game right now.

“Quiznak, you scared me,” Lance sighed dramatically. He was glad to see Keith awake—more so than he would like to admit to himself—but glad nonetheless.

“How long?” Keith rasped, coughing as he sat up and a hand to his throat. It burned, much like the rest of his body. His breathing was too loud, Lance was too close, and his skin felt hot and tacky.

Lance didn’t answer as he watched Keith cough and force himself to breathe. It was hard to see anyone like this, from the few aliens that Voltron had rescued on missions, the prisoners they found at testing facilities for the witch’s sick quintessence research, and now one of their own. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that this was happening, but some part of his mind always tucked it away in a dark corner, a place he rarely visited.

But he and Keith were those aliens, those prisoners, the new lab rats for the Galra on this ship.

It was a reality that he was reluctant to face and grimly forced to accept.

“Lance, how long?” Keith asked again, voice still rough from whatever they had done to his throat.

He shook himself and met Keith’s gaze. “I don’t know, a couple hours? It’s hard to tell when we don’t have any clocks or tickers here.”

Keith merely nodded and remained quiet after that. Eventually, they moved to the back of the cell, tucking themselves into a corner as far away from the door as possible. Lance couldn’t find words to say and Keith would rather sit in silence than force himself to talk at the moment. Neither of them had ever been in this situation before. Well, that was a lie, there was the whole episode between Lance and Nyma but he’d rather not count that since he was just chained to a tree rather than captured and dumped in a cell. Lance had no idea what Keith had done with the Blades; communication between Kolivan and the Voltron team was minimal at best and was only when they were cross-checking information before missions.

Lance chewed his lip as he watched Keith poke and prod at himself, wincing each time he hit an especially sore spot as he took stock of his injuries. Lance still had a headache but the rest of him was only sore from being thrown on the ground. His legs were tucked up close to his chest, his arms wrapped around them as he rested his chin on his knees. It was a stark contrast to how Keith was splayed out in the corner, legs tossed out straight and one arm flopped onto his lap while the other poked a different bruise every few seconds. Lance wanted to tell him to stop, but he knew that Keith wouldn’t listen. Sometimes he did, but most of the time he didn’t.

The ship hummed around them, and it was just underneath that constant thrum that Lance felt Red come back to him. She roared, a skulking presence in the back of his mind as he and Keith sat without saying a word. A gush of air escaped him in relief as she purred protectively in the back of his mind. She assessed him, rubbing against his psyche, reassuring and comforting him before turning her attention to her previous paladin. Lance could hear the mournful moan, the longing in her voice. He tried his best to comfort her in return, but there was only so much he could do without being in the pilot’s seat.

Red turned to him and forced him to look at Keith. The other boy had given up on cataloging his injuries and was focusing on resting now. His eyes had drifted shut and his breathing evened out. Even though Keith had left her, just like Alfor before him, Red always held her paladins in high regard. Lance smiled wistfully as she whipped her tail back and forth as she stared at Keith through him. A protective mother, that was what Red reminded him of. The kind of mother who would scold her children for doing something dangerous but turn around and show them how it was done seconds after.

“She’s still proud of you, you know.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, but Red whipped around to focus on him once more, encouraging him to say more, to convey her feelings—and by extension his own.

Keith cracked an eye open and raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Red, ya know, your first lion before the whole Lion Switcheroo and you going to train with the Blades of Marmora? Big Ol’ Red?” Lance nudged him with his elbow lightly. Red paced between them, growling and yowling at him to say more. Her antics cemented his idea of her being a mother (after all, she was forcing two of her children to communicate after a long period of radio silence.)

The eye slid closed and Keith tilted his head back against the wall. He looked exhausted; like he’d gotten used to surviving on the bare minimum of sleep, food, and water over the past few months.

Red pawed at Lance to keep going. “Just, you know how Red is. She’s like a protective mom, always growling at us to fix something.”

Keith sighed and barely opened his eyes, staring out at nothing. “I didn’t think she still remembered me.”

“What? No, of course she does!” Lance objected. He lowered his knees to sit cross-legged and leaned toward Keith. “What makes you think that? You were her first paladin after ten thousand years, of course she still remembers you. Black has memories of her paladins, and Allura told me that Blue misses me from time to time. Seriously, the lions remember most of everything.”

“So, she’s mad then?”

Lance sputtered and shook his head, ignoring how his headache flared again. “Dude, what? No!” Red growled, arguing with him. “Okay, maybe a little,” he acquiesced before moving on, “She was a little upset but, hey, we had to do what we had to do.”

A dark eyebrow disappeared in the mop of dark hair on Keith’s head. He nodded absently and closed his eyes once more. “Sounds like her.”

Her rumbling purr filled his head and Lance couldn’t fight her infectious attitude; smiling, he kept going. “She’s glad that you’re finding yourself. Like, you’re doing something for yourself. She gets why you left.”

“I didn’t really want to leave, but it was simple math. Six paladins, five lions. Someone had to go.” Keith shrugged, keeping his eyes closed. “I had an opportunity with the Blades so I took it. The rest of you had nothing else.”

“You know that’s—”

“Give me the Paladin.”

Footsteps stomped up to the door to their cell and both of them remained silent until—

The door slammed open and the guards poured in once more. Lance yelped and scrambled along the wall trying to evade them, but it didn’t take long for the Galra to grab him and drag him out of the room. Keith shouted, jumping to his feet to fight them off. Another guard stepped up and slammed him in the face with the butt of his rifle, knocking him unconscious again.

Keith struggled to wake up. Even in the low light of the ship, his vision whited-out when he opened his eyes. The floor was unforgiving. His side, shoulder and hip complained loudly from the way he had crumpled to the ground after being struck. Everything swam when he blinked his eyes open again. Another concussion, he thought through a daze. He squeezed his eyes shut then blinked them open rapidly, trying to clear his vision more, but it was useless.

He couldn’t hear anything else in the room and it put him on edge. What if they were still torturing Lance? What was happening to him? Was Lance alright? What if he—Keith stopped the line of thought before he fell too far down that rabbit hole. Wincing, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He hated feeling trapped; he hated being trapped.

A growl escaped his lips as he forced himself to stand, all of his joints creaking as if he were an old man standing up from his rocking chair. One side of his face felt tight and swollen, from cheekbone to jaw. Right where the guard had slammed their gun into his face. He could taste the coppery flavor of blood in his mouth too. Touching his nose and cheekbone, he found no gash or wetness, just tight, tender skin. It throbbed painfully at the pressure from his fingers and he gave up inspecting it.

“Fucking assholes,” he muttered, mouth tight, as he leaned against the door, trying to hear anything from the other side.

Only the humming of the ship's engines met his ears. Keith slammed his cuffs against the door in frustration. He felt useless just sitting around here like this!

More footsteps answered his attack on the door and Keith backed away from the door again, glaring at it with all the angry fire within him. The door slid open and the guards dumped a body into the cell, laughing.

“I’ve never heard something cry so much, he sounded like a baby yupper!” The guard laughed, kicking Lance the rest of the way into the cell before shutting the door once again.

Keith jumped to Lance’s side and rolled him onto his back. He winced at what he saw.

Lance was beaten pretty badly. One eye was already swollen shut, and there were various other cuts and bruises all over from what Keith could see. The Paladin armor was scuffed and scratched, burn marks darkening it in different spots, and there were chips to the different edges all over. Voltron had seen its fair share of battles, sure, just like he had with the Blades of Marmora, but Keith hadn't expected to see something like this.

Lance coughed, causing Keith to flinch away from the noise. This was bad, he wasn't going to be able to fly like this.

"Lance? Lance, are you alright?" he whispered, barely trusting his own voice.

He received an answering groan, a screwed up face before one blue eye opened. Lance coughed again and rolled over to his side. "Quiznak, I almost wish I wasn't..."

Keith breathed a sigh of relief and sat back on his heels. "Honestly, same."

They let silence encapsulate them, wrapping around them in some form of new comfort. Keith was almost surprised that Lance was capable being silent for this long, but he wasn't going to point it out and disturb the quiet when his head was still pounding with every heartbeat. At least they were being left alone for the time being, Keith wasn't sure either of them could handle going through another round of torture again.

The ship creaked and groaned as it moved through space. Where they were going, neither knew nor did they have the motivation to wonder. The longer Keith sat still, the more his head began to clear. Whether it was a product of Kolivan's meditations — something that he insisted Keith do to curb his more emotional tendencies — or the possibility that the concussion wasn't as bad as he thought it was, he was thankful for it. Lance, however, remained completely silent; steadily breathing on the ground next to him. At this point the continued silence was becoming concerning but Keith couldn't figure out what to say.

After another long, indeterminate passage of time, Lance eventually sat up. He knew both of them were exhausted, having been knocked out and tortured for who knows how long before getting dumped back in a place where there was no sense of time. His whole body hurt, especially his eye which throbbed spectacularly.

It all felt hopeless. What were they supposed to do? There were guards stationed outside of their cell, they had no idea where they were inside of the ship, and Red had gone seemingly quiet. Lance tried to reach out to her, but she was a simmering pool of anger that merely told him to rest and focus on himself. Don't worry about her, she would be fine. Lance breathed slowly; in and out, in a nice slow rhythm. If he were still with Blue, she would have pressed her cool presence around him and helped him find his center again. He didn't blame Red for leaving him alone, but that didn't stop the ache in his chest from missing his first Lion.

Eventually, it got to be too much. Even with the groaning of the ship around them, it felt like they were trapped in a silent, timeless bubble. He had no idea if the team had picked up on his distress signal from his suit, had no idea if they were even trying to reach him. His helmet had been cracked and broken before he was even dragged out of Red. It made him realize that it was going to be now or never; there was so many things he wanted to say, wanted to do and he felt like his life was going to be cut short on this ship. The Galra in the torture room had seemed quite intent on it before their commander stopped them.

If this was going to be it, he was going to say it now before they were both too far gone in this hell hole.

"Hey, Keith?"

The other boy looked up from where he was sitting, eyes a little clearer than before. One side of his face was still swollen, but even that seemed to be getting better slowly.

"Yeah? What's up, Lance?"

"Look, there's been something I've been meaning to tell you and well, this seems like as good as time as any since you're here, I'm here, and we aren't off doing our own things with Voltron or the Blades. Which, is like, totally cool, by the way, that you're off doing that, seriously no hard feelings there—"

This ship groaned again, and they felt the ghost of a shudder from the entire structure.

Both of them looked up and around the cell. It couldn't be...

The battlecruiser shuddered again, and in the distance, they heard explosions and guards running and shouting at each other. Footsteps echoed outside their cell, urgently running down the hallway toward whatever was making the noise.

Red came to life through her bond to Lance, roaring out at the same time he heard whispers of the others through her.

"They're here, oh my god, they're here!" Lance scrambled to his feet and began to bang on the door. "Guys! We're in here! Guys!!"

Keith jumped to his feet and started to hammer away at the door too. Not today, he wasn't going to die on a Galra ship today.

Together they shouted and screamed through the door for what felt like forever before the door slid open in front of them and Hunk and Pidge were standing there, relieved grins spreading across their faces.

"Lance! Thank flipping god you're alright!" Hunk exclaimed.

"You guys found us!" Lance all but leapt at Hunk for a hug while Keith gave Pidge a fistbump before she cut his the cuffs off of his wrists.

"Of course we did! With your suit and the Red Lion both putting out distress signals, it would have been hard not to find you," Pidge explained, dragging Lance away from Hunk. "Now c'mere and let me get those off of you. Also, Hi Keith, nice to see you again."

More explosions resonated through the ship, causing the whole thing to vibrate. "What the heck did you guys plant on the ship?" Keith asked rubbing his wrists. He was itching to get going, the sounds of the cruiser's engines were alarming from how they were stuttering.

Hunk, laughed. "Oh that's not us. That's Shiro and Allura working out their anger issues with the ion cannons. But we gotta go, and get you guys to the hangar, Red was starting to tear the place apart from the inside when we showed up. I swear, she's scary-protective of her paladins. I’m glad Yellow isn’t so uptight."

He hefted his bayard and the four of them ran down the hallways to the hangar, dodging laser fire here and there as they got closer and closer. They entered the hangar under heavy fire, Hunk taking down most of the sentries as they raced toward the Red Lion.

She stomped on a ship as they ran toward her, knocking out whatever Galra she could before they got too close. Keith and Lance continued to run towards her as Pidge and Hunk split off, heading for the holes they made in the hull of the ship where their own lions waited. Lance brought up his shield to block incoming laser fire as Keith ran up the ramp to Red's cockpit, jumping into her mouth as she started to pick up her head.

Keith was already in the seat, pressing buttons and bringing up screens.

"Lessgo lessgo lessgo!" Lance yelled, bracing himself on the cabin bulwark and the back of the pilot's chair. (He'd get on Keith about taking his place some other time, his vision was still messed up from his black eye.)

"I am, hold on!"

Red blasted a molten gash in the side of the hangar and plowed her way through into open space. Keith brought her around, firing off another bright beam at the battlecruiser before peeling off toward the castle in the distance. Any Galra ships that might have pursued them were already blown to pieces from Shiro and Allura's teamwork.

In the back of Lance's head, he felt Red purr with contentment, two of her paladins back with her once more — however temporary that may be.

Keith breathed out a sigh of relief, sagging against the back of the pilot's chair and closing his eyes. "That... that was close."

"Yeah, no kidding," Lance agreed, propping his chin up on his hand as he leaned more against the back of the chair. "I seriously thought we weren't going to make it for a second there."

Keith cracked open his eyes and studied Lance. "About that... what were you going to say before the others came and broke us out?"

He looked away, fighting back the blush that threatened to expose him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lance."

"Nope, I don't remember, I was in a haze—"

"Just answer the damn question, I know you remember."

"—and I'm pretty sure that it had nothing to do with my feelings for you —"

"You're what?"

"—and not to mention all those times I thought you were cool and stuff fighting with your sword-blade-thing —"

"Lance, slow down—"

"—or any of the other cool stunts you managed to pull when you were on the team, nope, definitely wasn't any of that."

Okay, now they were both blushing and avoiding looking at each other.

Lance took a quick peek out of the corner of his eye to look at Keith, waving a hand in the air. "It was probably the head injury I have that was making me think all those things."

Keith rolled his eyes and looked back at all the displays he had up. "Yeah, well, maybe I was thinking those same things during that moment. Two concussions in a row make it hard to think straight."

Lance nodded. "Yup, sounds about right. We cool?"

"We're cool."

"Cool."

[kijiboop]

MCU Original Characters +Thanos: Unbowed - Chapter Two

A/N: This story will eventually involve A/O dynamics, sexual slavery, sexually explicit material, D/s, and a very sizable grape boi.

Prologue | Chapter One

Esi watched the Paiksykine blink out of existence. She watched her captain and her crew leave her behind. She closed her eyes and reached up to press her Talhei flush to her scalp. When she was upset, the crest liked to stand up about halfway and tremble, a habit she remembered her mother scolding her about. So many years ago. Now, she was trembling over the loss of her family all over again.

Kris. Gorjin. Risa. Tally. K’kcha.

Kris.

Her Talhei jerked under her hand and Esi hissed irritably at it. Sometimes it did have a mind of its own. She had meant what she said to Kris about his not being in love with her, about only romanticizing their physical relationship. What she hadn’t meant was that she wasn’t in love with him. She had been for a while, even before their attempts to get her pregnant. He was worth loving: strong, caring, funny, intelligent. She respected him and adored him, much like the rest of the crew. But if he had asked her to stay with him, to raise their child and maybe more together, to be long-term life partners, she would have said yes. Esi covered her face with her hands and sighed. “Get over it,” she whistled at herself. “It never would have worked anyway.”

Her pod jerked as the Obliterator’s tractor grapple took hold of it and began to draw it into the docking bay. She tried not to think about what was probably in store for her. She actually did know who was reeling her in, though she wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction of admitting it in front of Kris. Terraxia the Terrible had almost as big a reputation for insanity and cruelty as her progenitor, but if what Esi had just watched was any indication, Terraxia wasn’t nearly the strategic genius Thanos was. Nor was she impervious to embarrassment or humiliation. Esi let herself smile. It was something to keep in mind.

With a thud, the pod came to rest and Esi carefully stood up straight, forcing down her nervously flaring Talhei. After a long moment, someone banged on the outside hull and she released the door, deciding to take her captors head-on. She kept her hands to her sides and called, “I’m coming out. I’m unarmed.” No one answered, but no one shot at her either so Esi walked down the short steps and stood on the deck of the larger ship.

Kree.

Titan-fucking Bride of Frankenstein had Kree working her ship.

Esi’s Talhei popped fully in alarm and she recoiled as the two armed Kree advanced on her. “No!” she found herself screaming. Her Talhei flared and shook uncontrollably as she retreated, her hands up. Instead of backing off, her guards stepped to her sides and took her by the arms, holding her in place. “Let me go!” she clicked frantically, falling back into Centaurian in her distress. “Don’t touch me!” Her skin crawled where their claws dug into it and she felt herself breaking into an icy sweat, memories hammering her and flashing over her.

“Not so fiesty under guard,” a female voice purred and Esi froze in place, her Talhei still trembling. Terraxia grinned cruelly at her as she approached. “I have to admit I admire your willingness to face the unknown for your crew, though. You have spirit and Thanos will appreciate that.” Esi couldn’t find words to spit back at Thanos’s female clone, only managed a disgusted glare. “And pretty.” Terraxia reached out and lifted Esi’s jaw to admire her profile. “I hadn’t expected that.”

“Thought Centaurians all look like old shoe leather?” Esi hissed, finally finding her Common again.

Terraxia smirked and released Esi’s jaw. “Take her to the cells,” she said to the guards in Kree. “Make sure she doesn’t have access to suicidals.” The Kree nodded and Esi tried not to struggle as they pulled her away down the hall. “Can’t have you harming yourself before I can present my prize,” Terraxia chuckled after her in Common again. “Get some rest, little Centaurian. You’re going to need it.”

The Kree roughly dragged Esi toward a corridor and she let them maneuver her, still feeling shaky and overwhelmed with memories. She had been a slave to the Kree for eight years before she had escaped and those memories were still close to the surface. Some people would say she had been lucky to escape the gladiator pits, given the Centaurian reputation but being forced to dance for their amusement hadn’t been much better. Her captors had allowed her contact with other people to keep her skin conditioned, so her beauty had been appealing. Dancing wasn’t the only thing she had been forced to do.

Esi shook her head sharply to push away the flashbacks and twitched when the guard on her right hissed something in one of the Kree dialects she wasn’t fluent in. The other made a short, chuffing laugh before a door in the wall swished open and they shoved her inside. The door shut and locked behind her, leaving Esi alone in the darkness of a small room barely wide enough for her to stand with her arms extended to either side. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light that crept in under the door, she could see the small drain in the floor, the equally small cot with a ratty blanket, the complete lack of ventilation or additional plumbing. “Guess I get to piss in the drain,” she whistled to herself in disgust. “Not even a chamber pot.”

The floor rocked under her and she listened to the deep thrumming of the engines as the ship got underway. Taking her further from her family. Again. Esi squirmed her way onto the narrow cot, curled herself up tightly and started to cry.

***

Rough hands dragged at her. She followed. Disoriented, afraid, she let them move her.

Was she a slave again? Freedom had been nice.

Kris wouldn’t have…

Esi took a sharp breath as her Kree guards moved her from her cell and marched her down the corridor of the ship again. Time had passed. She must have fallen asleep on her cot. She shook her head to clear it and watched almost impassively as the Kree took her to the docking connection, through an airlocked passage and onto another ship.

A grand ship.

Grand enough to contain the ego that believed he held responsibility for the galaxy on his shoulders.

Terraxia was already on the deck, embracing and kissing Thanos. The Mad Titan held her with the kind of tenderness a craftsman might show for a particularly useful tool, a farmer for a prize animal. Respect and anything more than superficial affection were not present in his treatment, though Terraxia appeared willing to take whatever her lord would offer.

In spite of herself, Esi was intrigued.

Thanos released his clone and turned to regard her gift instead. “A Centaurian?” he asked Terraxia, his tone skeptical.

“She will amuse you, my lord,” Terraxia smiled. “Her wit is quick. I thought you might enjoy breaking her, for that matter. She has the Centaurian stubbornness.”

Thanos left Terraxia and stood in front of Esi, his eyes considering before he reached one massive hand down to lift her face by the jaw, just as Terraxia had done on the ship earlier. “Pretty,” he mused thoughtfully. “Even by Xandarian standards, she’s very finely featured. I didn’t know the Centaurians bred for beauty.”

“We don’t,” Esi spat. “We breed for intelligence, strength of will, and vocal range.” She flicked her tongue against her teeth and lips to rip her whistle through the octaves she could reach, respectable even among her own people. Thanos’s eyebrows raised in consideration while Terraxia winced and several of the Kree hissed their irritation at the sound. “Beauty’s just a side benefit. Not that you’d know.”

The entire reception bay went still. Every Kree in the room stared at Thanos, waiting for a reaction. Even Terraxia seemed to be holding her breath. Thanos closed his eyes, took one long breath in, then out again before turning to Terraxia. “Bring her to my chambers. Breaking her may be fun.”

“Break your toys and you can’t play with them anymore,” Esi spat after him. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that? Was she as ugly as you? Or are you just special like that?” A wild finger of courage teased at her and Esi jerked forward in the hands of her guards, who clung to her nervously. “Or did you get your looks from Daddy?”

Thanos turned back to stare at her, then slowly smiled, showing her the barest hint of his teeth between his lips. “Oh, you will be fun. Nicely done, Terraxia.” He fondly petted Terraxia’s hair before he vanished from the room and left Esi to the mercy of two dozen jumpy Kree and one particularly sadistic Titan clone.

Terraxia turned on her heel as soon as Thanos was gone and stormed back toward Esi. Before Esi could prepare herself, the tall woman backhanded her across the face, spinning her world and dropping her to her knees. “You will not speak of my lord’s family,” she snarled. “He may have mercy on you, but the only mercy you’ll get from me is a quick death.”

Esi paused, working her tongue around the inside of her mouth. She wasn’t bleeding from the hit, but her jaw ached. Slowly, she looked up at Terraxia and bared her teeth in a vicious grin. “Then kill me now. Because I won’t stop, no matter what you say.”

Terraxia’s eyes flashed and Esi wondered what it might be like to die. But the clone turned away. “Take her to his chambers,” she growled in Kree. “Get her out of my sight.”

“Yeah, you better run!” Esi yelled after her as her guards took her arms and dragged her off again. In spite of herself, a bubble of hysterical laughter slipped out and Esi looked at the guard on her right. “You’re all egg-cracked if you listen to her,” she informed him in Kree. He jerked and stared at her in surprise. “I know more than my boring face lets on.” Both of the guards shuffled their feet a little, then started walking faster as Esi indulged herself in another peal of wild, unnerving laughter.

***

“Do you think they’ve killed her?”

Kris sighed in frustration and turned his chair toward Vatta, one of the Xandarian engineers where she stood by the back rail of the bridge. “Don’t torture yourself, Ensign.” She was a pretty little thing, barely clearing five feet and with a pixie haircut that framed her face in parentheses of gold. Her black eyes darted to his face and she shrugged with a helpless smile. “I don’t think so. It sounded like they wanted her alive, though I’m not sure how much better that is.”

“Not very,” intoned Gorjin from his pilot’s seat. “What do you want us to do, Cap? Should we try to track them? Find out where Thanos is based?”

Kris rubbed his temples with one hand. “We’re not exactly an assault team. We finish our run, get paid, then reconsider our options. If we have to hire someone to extract her, I will. I’m not leaving her there with them.”

“The baby didn’t take,” whispered Vetta, “did it? That’s why she was avoiding us.”

“No,” Kris confirmed in a small voice. The ache in his chest was almost as much for himself as it was for Esi. It surprised him how badly he had wanted to know she was raising his child.

“It’s why she sacrificed herself,” Vetta added.

“Probably.”

Vetta let out a shaking breath and put her head down on her wrists for a second, leaning on the railing. When she looked up again, her face was streaked with tears. “Boss, when we find her again and get her back, will you fuck her for me? Nobody’s ever deserved a baby like Esi.”

Kris chuckled and shook his head. “She might be willing to let you fuck her yourself, you know.”

“Naw.” Vetta sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I asked. She turned me down. I can’t give her babies. You can.”

“Fuck her for all of us, Cap,” Gorjin put in with a small smile.

“You guys are the weirdest crew a captain could have,” Kris said, slowly shaking his head. “Yes, when we find her, I will do my level best to put a baby in her on your behalf.”

“It takes a village,” Vetta murmured with a little grin.

@lucifers-trash-stash @vizhi0n @lissachan504 @even-the-sparrow @genevievedarcygranger @ladylorelitany

[fanfictrashdump]

Universe in a Jar, 6 - Phase 4 fic

Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Wong, OC

Rating: T?

Warnings: Language! Mentions of sexual encounters, sarcasm, terrible storytelling, and typos prob.

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

Previous Chapter

WARNINGS: Language, fighting, mentions of death, Stephen with a kitten

XX

Stephen dragged his sneakers through the loose dirt of the beaten path as he meandered, handful of tools hanging limply from his hands. Every now and then, he'd stop and take a survey of the land before continuing for no other reason than he could. He was delaying his arrival at the small, cornflower blue barn just beyond the hill. Despite the fact that he had been doing mindless farm chores non-stop since they arrived at the Hale Estate and this was the first time Seph had ever physically asked him to help with something. Persephone needed him to take a look at the tractor, a small one for her moderate crops. He knew it was merely a ploy to get him out of the house and away from the ticking time-bomb of a witch, but he was dreading the hell out of it, all the same. It wasn't because he thought he couldn't do it–he grew up on a farm in a small town of very rural Nebraska; he knew how to fix a tractor. It wasn't even that he thought his hands would betray him (not that she had even considered that a possibility. Seph knew that he was the most dexterous of the lot, shaking hands and all). He just really hated it.

As he approached the well-worn wooden structure, he shuffled the tools to fish the key to the padlock out of his pocket. With a loud clang, the lock sprung open, evidence of needing a little greasing apparent in its ear-shattering metallic whine as it turned open to be removed. With little more than a huff, he tugged one of the leaves open to have a staring contest with the four-wheeled piece of equipment that he'd most likely lose.

Then, there was a noise.

Tossing the wrenches and clamps onto a nearby work table, he shuffled around the small shelter, looking under tables and in buckets, until he found the source in the wheel well of the tractor. Smiling, he kneeled on the floor before sitting cross-legged, watching the wheel well with interest until out from the shadows, a little tuft of ginger emerged.

"I don't suppose you're the mechanic," he jested, only to be replied by a determined meow. "Tractor elf, then? Here to fix things while we sleep?"

The ginger tabby, sure as any creature he had ever encountered in this or any Universe, padded across the dirt floor and clambered into his lap. It took less than a minute for the kitten to begin purring or for it to continually bump its head affectionately against his awkwardly jarring hands. Stephen was careful, a notch forming between his brows as he focused on gentleness and applying appropriate pressure, in not suddenly squeezing. Not that the kitten was paying any mind. If anything, the sudden spasms in his hands were met with increased rubbing and the occasional batting of one tufted paw on his hand, pulling it closer to its dirt-stained face.

"I've known you for forty three years." Stephen glanced over his shoulder to find Seph leaning against the open barn door, arms crossed, grin on her face. "Every single time you're sent to do something you don't want to, you always end up with an animal in your lap. How does that even happen, Stephen?"

He shrugged. "I'm just a lucky guy, Peep."

The kitten had scaled up his t-shirt and anchored against his chest. One paw rested on his chin while his hands held the creature up against him. Even from several feet away, Seph could hear the loud, buzzing drone of purring of the cat's delight, warming her insides at this portrait of happiness.

A mew of contentment echoed in the barn, the sorcerer having buried his fingers in the orange fur and tickled down its spine. Stephen chuckled in response, making an altogether too soft noise at his new friend. "I didn't know you kept a barn cat."

"I don't. That little guy is from the Smith's farm down the road. Their barn cat, Cooper, was knocked up. This little stowaway comes and goes. Never lets me touch him, though." Her amusement was apparent at watching Stephen Vincent Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, Surly Man Extraordinaire all cuddled up to an orange tabby, melting under its quiet meows. She dropped to her knees beside him, brushing her hand under the cat's chin and quickly realizing it was not her touch the kitten wanted, as it burrowed further into Stephen's chest. A little laugh escaped her. "I think you have a barn cat."

"I don't have a barn." The response was automatic.

She snorted. "Yeah, you do. I can see it from here."

Stephen lifted his gaze from orange fur to the run down barn across the way and then the house it lived behind and sighed, dropping his chin back onto the kitten as in comfort. He didn't exactly know what to say to that, if anything at all, but Seph didn't let him suffer for long.

"What did you make of the house?"

The question prompted him to close his eyes and fidget in place. "I didn't go in. I sat on the porch for hours, held the key. I couldn't do it."

"Stephen, that's your–"

"I know. I know. It's just… their ghosts… I can't–"

She drew an arm around him and pulled him into her body, relishing in the little sigh and the untensing of his shoulders as he settled into the crook of her neck. "Empty houses are not that scary. I promise." He nodded minutely. "I'll go with you."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I'll do it, anyway."

A stretch of silence surrounded them, broken only by the white noise of purring. "Are you sleeping with Loki?"

Seph laughed, turning her head to kiss Stephen's crown. "Are you?"

His brows pulled together and his mouth twisted. "Not regularly, no."

"Ditto."

"So, you have."

"Have you?"

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "Look, I'm not judging you, I'm just–"

"Comparing yourself. Which is stupid–"

"I know, I shouldn't–"

She continued as if he had said nothing. "–because I also sleep with women. There's no chance in hell you two break the top ten."

Stephen scoffed, though the corner of his mouth turned up. The kitten in his arms shuffled with the vibration and settled back into another comfortable position. "Do you have to be such a dick?"

"Learn how to use yours and I wouldn't have to." With a grin, she kissed his crown again. "You know you have to sleep with me to be ranked, right?"

A dusting of red covered his cheeks. "Yeah."

"Just making sure."

The little ball of orange fluff stretched luxuriously, untangling from Stephen's arms just enough to wander and drape itself across the place where both of the humans' thighs touched. Seph gently traced one of the fuzzy ears with her fingers, watching them twitch at the contact before the feline pushed its face firmer against her touch.

Stephen could only smile to himself. He could understand the feeling–initial apprehension, weary observation, eventual surrender. Persephone was an intense person and sometimes it was scary to exist within her same aura until she showed that she was there to be gentle. He supposed he could always feel that she was a little different. Her powers made sense to him now, and he could admit that his child's intuition was not great at discerning that the odd feeling he perceived when she was in a mood was not apprehension or annoyance but power.

"I've messed up a lot of stuff with sex." The words slipped out before he had even noticed them.

"Oh, I am well aware. I went to college with you. And med school."

A wry laugh echoed in the barn. "Such a dick."

"Stephen, we were each other's first kiss. First naked look at the opposite sex. First to tell when anything remotely interesting happened to us. And then, we fell into a world of magic and aliens. I think we'd survive." Stephen remained quiet beside her, merely shuffling a little further into the warmth of her half-embrace, making her smile secretively at the softness of the action. "You know she didn't mean it, right? Implying that we were being useless."

He nodded a bit. "I know. She's just upset about her family."

"She doesn't know you. She doesn't know how much it hurt or how their ghosts haunt you. You also didn't have to go that hard on her."

"I know, but what was I supposed to do, Peep?"

"Tell her that you know exactly where's she's coming from. You know her pain better than anyone. Why is it so hard to make that vulnerability known?"

He straightened up, gaze falling to the far corner of the barn to avoid looking at her. "Because who would fucking trust me, then?"

Seph snorted. "Honestly? A lot more people. Half the people we went to school thought you were either a robot or a sociopath. Being an unfeeling thing doesn't lend you credibility, it makes you look like a maniac."

"I don't think that's–" A crash made the two of them start. "What was that?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She gently pried the kitten off their legs and set it down on the barn floor before jumping to her feet. "Sorry, buddy. Noises need attending. You can catch a nap later."

She waited for Stephen to similarly right himself before the two took off in a sprint towards the house. The pair slammed the kitchen door open to find everything in a disarray. Tables upturned, flowers on the floor, knickknacks broken and a dozen or so people in black, military style uniforms fighting against Wanda and Loki.

"What the fuck is going on?" Persephone yelled over the sounds over fighting.

"Former employers, long story," Loki hissed through gritted teeth.

Seph watched as Loki turned one of their glowing batons against the soldier to presumably electrocute them, only to give a startled gasp when they disappeared in a cloud of stardust.

"Little help, Seph!" Stephen grunted, trying to subdue one intruder while the Cloak kept another off his back. She stood frozen in panic. He did a double-take on her still form. "Pretend they're me and try to kill them!"

For a moment she blinked at him in surprise before another growled chorus of her name roused her. Despite almost killing Stephen several times within the course of the month, Persephone was not good at managing that part of her abilities on command. And, even when she did, the abilities were fleeting, at best. Concentrating, she latched on to whatever feelings of rage and desperation she could scrounge up, feeling the world slip away from her as her eyes began to glow. The two soldiers attacking the Sorcerer were suddenly surrounded in a glass prison. Wanda had four soldiers strung up from red threads of magic like marionettes and slowly moved them across the room where they joined Seph's prisoners. Loki, deciding he had had enough of niceties, was going around the living room, wielding a baton like a sword and dispatching of anyone who came too close to him.

"Are you OK?"

She flinched at Stephen's hand on her shoulder, her eyes still fixed on the boxes with rapt attention.

"Peep, talk to me."

"I'm OK." Her voice sounded both hollow and too dynamic, echoing eerily.

Strange nodded. "You know how I told you earlier not to open the veil? Well, maybe disregard that and throw these guys elsewhere?"

There was a beat of silence before she responded. "I don't have to." She clapped her hands together and both boxes collapsed into nothingness. '

Stephen swallowed thickly, squeezing her shoulder once to try and ground her. "Where'd you–?"

"Antarctica. They might die." She said it so matter-of-fact that it was almost worrying.

"I assure you," Loki started, "they won't. They will be found within a few minutes, if not already."

"Hey." Stephen bent at the knees to level his eyes to hers, though she stared right through him. "Let go of it. You're OK." She blinked at him but her expression turned from blank to furrowed brow. "That's it. Come back." He rubbed up and down her arms, feeling the air shift around him like oxygen was coming back into the room. He looked up at Loki and Wanda. "Do you know where they got in from? This place is warded to the teeth, I find it hard to believe they found a crack."

"Are you telling them or shall I, dear?" Loki offered with a wide smile that didn't quite catch their eyes.

Wanda fidgeted before groaning. "They knocked at the door. I opened without checking."

"It's OK." Seph leaned against Stephen, clenching her eyes shut against the migraine starting to brew at her temple. "It's happened to me before. Not with anyone who wants to kill me but, y'know, religious groups who make me want to kill myself. I have–have contingencies." The last of her words came out slurred.

"You're not looking so good, Seph." The witch rushed over to help her sit on the sofa, full mothering mode on.

"I think I just overdid it." She sank into the cushions, letting out a steady breath before trying to get back up. Stephen promptly pushed her back down. "I need to move the house."

"You're not doing moving of any kind right now." Persephone frowned at what she had deemed his doctor voice, though was having trouble deciding which of the two Stephens was the one she needed to be glaring at.

Loki frowned. "Strange?" He got a hum of acknowledgment back, the sorcerer too busy pretending he wasn't worrying over Seph. "Who's that on your jeans?"

"What?" Stephen looked away from the sofa and glanced down. Hanging off the bottom hem of his right pantleg, a tiny ball of orange fur batted at the playfully swishing Cloak around his shoulders.

"That's his barn cat," Seph supplied, a drunken giggle in her voice.

"Precious." Stephen rolled his eyes at the glittering smile of the demigod, though it turned into more of a wide-eyed stare when he continued, "Didn't know Midgard kept Flerkens."

Wanda tilted her head. "What's a–oooh, that's different." She grimaced at the split jaw and tentacle-like features attached to the mouth, batting at the Cloak.

"Stephen," Seph started, "I take it back. I'm not OK, I'm hallucinating."

Strange drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the air filling his lungs soothe him. "No, mom. I don't want to be a farmer. I want to be a doctor and move to New York city. And now you got a fucking alien following you around, you dipshit," he muttered angrily, before bending down. "Hey, no eating the Cloak!" The tentacles retracted, jaw fused back together and a kitten was once more sitting on the carpet. "I should've stayed on the fucking farm."

[edierone]

what's the worst sex Mulder and Scully ever had?

The worst time? Technically speaking, it was the first time.

They’d just come back from a shitty case well-solved, tired and sore from a dangerous foot pursuit – not to mention the years of denial and longing between them. At the diner where they’d stopped for an early dinner, she’d whispered into his collar, “Take me home with you,” at the same time he’d murmured into her hair, “Come home with me.” They left more than half their food on the table, and dropped a 100% tip.

The door was barely shut behind them before soft kisses turned urgent, frenzied. They were like a couple of drunk high schoolers — yanking at clothes, stumbling over half-off shoes, missing the other’s mouth entirely and landing on a shoulder or ear. Muffled half-words, mixed with groans, panting, unlovely slurping — and laughter, giddy bursts of giggles as the surprising joy of it burst through.

They didn’t make it to the bed — barely made it to the couch. Mulder still had one black dress sock on, and Scully’s un-matching, bottom-of-the-drawer laundry-day undies and bra looked ridiculous flung onto the rug.

His touch on her clit was too light until she showed him how, herself; she came shockingly hard (and loudly) after that. She wanted him inside her, and he was hilariously willing, but he warned her — more than once — that it had been awhile for him and he wasn’t gonna last long.

She shut him down with a growled “For god’s sake just fuck me!” and who was he to deny her?

So he raised up, trying to position himself, and proceeded to miss home base. Thrice.

On the fourth try, with her hand firmly guiding him, he slid in, so deep he thought they might both die right there. He lay on top of her, heart trying to hammer its way out of his ribcage, Scully hot and wet and deliriously needy beneath him, and managed a final warning: “I mean it Scully, I’m — not gonna last —”

She slapped his ass, then grabbed it hard, mashing him against her, and he could feel the inevitable on its way — so he pulled back and slammed into her, once, twice, three times — and that was it, he was gone.

After a blackout minute or two, he was dimly aware of her shaking, but it took him some time to realize it was because she was laughing again. “Oh holy shit,” she gasped, “That was awesome!”

“You liar — no fucking way that was awesome for you,” he moaned, so embarrassed that he half-hoped a tractor beam would breach the ceiling and take him back to the mothership.

Her tongue in his ear made him shiver. “I wanted you inside me,” she purred. His cock twitched, and she clenched her inner muscles around him. A single fingernail traced up his spine. “I couldn’t wait any longer. And I wanted you to lose control …” She bit his earlobe as he finally slid out of her.

“Too fast, though,” he said ruefully, gathering the courage to look her in the eye at last — and he couldn’t help but match her smile. She was radiant. Christ, but he loved her.

“Mulder — unless you have other plans later —”

“What — no! Oh, hell no!”

She laughed, and he rested his forehead on hers, breathing in the scent of sex and sweat. Her breath tickled his ear as she murmured, “Then we have all night to do it again.”

She was planning on staying. He hoped she meant forever. She hoped he knew she did.

[maryjeanstar]

Trucker Trax

There was a stench of motor oil in the café that morning. It reeked of sickness. The waitress came to the table with a cigarette clamped in her jaw. “What’ll it be.” she said, eyes on her pad.

Coupe perked up on his suspensions. “You got strawberry lemonade?” he asked.

“No.”

Coupe lowered to the floor, and said nothing else.

4WD blinked his headlights lazily over from the window. “I’ll have a doughnut and some cheese.”

“We don’t got cheese.”

“Just the doughnut then,” said 4WD.

The waitress scribbled. “What about you, red?”

“The name’s F-Type,” said F-Type, his engine glowering beneath his crimson paint, “And I’ll have nothing. This place is a dump.”

“I like it!” Coupe said quickly. “F’s just cranky from the ride heh sorry w-we’re just passing through our transport broke down and we thought we’d….”

The waitress walked away without asking 2WD anything. 2WD’s lights were still on the blue horizon out the window, her green paint reflecting the sun’s rays.

“AUgh,” F-Type revolted. “Someone chucked up in here. I’ll bet it was something they ordered.”

“F,” said Coupe, “please don’t get us killed with your crude social antics.”

“Nobody’s gonna kill anyone,” 4WD said casually. He grabbed a few sugar packets and stuffed them in his glove compartment. “It’s just a café.”

F-type snorted in disgust. “If that’s what you wanna call it.”

“Meh it’s whatever, short-stuff,” 4WD said. “We’ll be out of here as soon as Trailer’s done gassing up and stuff.”

“It could be a couple hours…” Coupe beeped softly. “He said he had to check his wheels and taillights. Suppose he needs to get them replaced. Suppose the person replacing them is crooked! What if he gets abducted and we’re left in this café forever!”

F-type got up from the booth, gagging out his exhaust. “I can’t breathe in here!”

“See ya,” 4WD said, and started drumming the table with a pair of plastic spoons.

“Wait,” Coupe said, “Where are you going?”

F-type did not reply. His engine revved loudly, and in a screech he peeled out the doors.

“Where do you suppose he’s going?” Coupe asked 4WD.

4WD shrugged, then continued drumming.

“Is he checking on Trailer?”

“Probs.”

“What if he gets captured too?”

“Coupe nobody’s been captured. You really need to cool it dude. Get some water or something.”

“I didn’t order any.’

“So order some.”

“But—”

4WD honked. “Waitress! Water and doughnut here!”

The waitress did not look up.

“Waitress!”

Coupe shushed 4WD. “It’s fine, Four I’m really not thirsty—”

“You sure don’t look comfortable,” 4WD said gently. “Wanna play cards?”

“I… I’m gonna check on F-Type.” Coupe began inching out of the booth. “You two gonna be okay?”

2WD did not respond.

“Psh,” 4WD said. “Go ahead lil dude, get some fresh air while you got the chance. We still have a few hours in Trailer’s rig till the next track. He’s got water too, so keep yourself hydrated if you see him lil dude.”

“Okay Four,” Coupe said. He cruised down the booths to the diner entry and nosed his way out in the blinding sunlight. As far as he could see there was endless fields of dead grass. A small flat hill sat an indeterminate distance away to the south, where the road was headed. F-Type was doing doughnuts in the parking lot. He was also screaming.

Coupe zipped over. “F-Type!” He horned. “You okay?”

“AHA!” F-Type cried. He braked hard, leaving a trail of steaming rubber. “Big Blue in there ordered doughnuts, and it gave me an idea how to show this dump my appreciation!”

“Jeez F, you’re gonna ruin your treads!”

F-Type spat windshield wiper fluid, and began a new circle. “C’mon let’s tear this pigsty a new decal!”

“Did you find Trailer?” Coupe said to F-Type’s dust. His horn could not be heard over F-Type’s engine and tires. “Egh, F! F I’m asking you a question! Darn it!” Coupe raced after F-Type, careening through the parked semi trucks, a narrow metal canyon slick with oil spillage. F-Type careened around a BMW and narrowly missed hitting a farmer’s tractor coming out of its parking spot.

The farmer was so busy shaking a fist at F-Type he was not ready for the collision. Coupe smashed into the tractor’s big wheel head on. The tractor jerked, but otherwise remained completely undamaged. Coupe meanwhile shattered and exploded into a dozen large low-poly chunks of yellow car all over the parking lot. His headlamps and wheels rolled under the tractor. His hood lifted itself over the farmer’s astonished head. One of Coupe’s sides leaped out from a pick-up’s back. Within seconds Coupe’s parts remerged into Coupe on the tractor’s far-side.

“S-sorry!” He bleated over his taillight, and before the Farmer could give him a piece of his farmer mind, Coupe streaked off after F-Type.

“HAHA!” F-Type was laughing manically. “You bit it, Coupe!”

“Fuck you!” Coupe cried.

F-Type zoomed under an oil tank. Coupe went around its front.

F-Type did a figure-8 around two gas pumps. Coupe went in the middle of them, forcing F-Type to brake.

“What gives, lemonhead!?” F-Type demanded. “Make way let’s do some stunts!”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you you asshole!” Coupe beeped.

F-Type rolled his headlights. “Ech, you’re such a bitch.”

“Oh so showing concern for others is being a bitch huh?”

“I am sick of you breathing down my neck for everything I do!”

“Like ignoring me is any less inconsiderate!”

“The whole point of this trip was to have fun and you’ve just been a killjoy the entire time!”

“Have fun, yes, at the fleeping Trax you meatball! This is a truck stop!”

“I don’t care!” F-Type backed up, his wheels grinding into a sharp turn. “I’m done. Have fun worrying about me I am out.”

“F-Type stop right there!” Coupe honked, but F-Type pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the highway loud as a tornado. “Fine!” Coupe called after. “Stop wherever you run out of gas you pipewad! Jerk! Child! Maniac!” Coupe’s headlamps were teared up. “…you fucking idiot.”

Behind him a pair of large wheels slowly crunched over the cracked gravelly pavement. 4WD had a doughnut and was munching it slowly. “Heard some shouting,” he said casually.

“Four,” Coupe said. “I messed up big time.”

“Where’s shorty going?” 4WD asked through another bite.

“Another fit. We better go after him with some extra gas or something.”

“No need, lil dude,” 4WD said. He gestured with the doughnut he was holding towards the road. Coming up from the dry grass and bounding onto the road, a flash of green fell in hot pursuit of the crimson tantrum. “Two-wheeler’ll sort him out. She’s good at that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at him,” Coupe said. “I just I’m so tired of feeling like the only one who gives a shit about anything.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up just ‘cause shorty’s got his ass screwed in too tight. He probably roared off because what you said to him was true.”

“Could you really hear us?”

“Dude the whole café was boggling out listening to you lot—”

Coupe began to sink.

“Erm, I mean they didn’t care really, nobody said anything, it’s cool hey did you see Trailer?”

“No. The whole time I was trying to ask F if he’d seen him.”

“Did you ask him?”

“NO it was just a stupid argument. It’s like he leads every conversation with defensive snaps he’s so dense and touchy it’s—” Coupe sighed deeply.

4WD munched sympathetically.

“I guess I’ll go look for Trailer myself,” Coupe said.

“Cool, I’ll wait for Shorty and Two-wheeler.”

“F and Motor.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I— never mind bye.” Coupe drove off.

F-Type became visible driving calmly beside 2WD. They approached 4WD, and 2WD tooted.

“Hey Big Blue,” F-Type said to the pavement.

“Welcome back, Shorty.”

“Don’t call me that.”

4WD finished his doughnut in silence. 2WD fell over and purred in the sun.

“So, uh,” F-Type began again. “Where’d Coupe go?”

“He’s looking for Trailer.”

“Okay.” F-Type glanced at his tires, then the sky, then 2WD, then said “I guess I’ll go um, look for Trailer too, I think I need new tires. Kinda heh, wore these ones out.”

“Yeah dude, you claimed this turf.”

“Heh. It was righteous!” F-Type’s engine fired up a gear. “We were zipping through the trailers like Owl City Turnpike on friday afternoon it was sick!” He scoffed. “Then Coupe kinda spoiled the mood with all his worrying crap.”

4WD shrugged. “He was anxious and you weren’t listening to him. I think that’s what boiled him.”

“That mid-weight is too damn sensitive,” F-Type said pointedly.

“I get you man,” 4WD nodded. “But you’re one to talk. Wanna tell me where you were going just now, bucko?”

F-Type averted headlights. “Nowhere. I just felt like I needed to drive, y’know?”

2WD tooted.

“Heh,” F-Type chuckled. “Me too, she says.”

“I think the both of you hot-engines need to cool it majorly. Get me?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll go get a drink of water from Trailer’s trailer,” F-Type said. And if I see Coupe, he thought furiously, I’ll shove a rock up his— He took in a deep breath and exhausted slowly. I’ll say sorry first to show I’m more cool-headed than he is. F-Type gave 2WD a tire-bump before cruising off towards the mechanic shed.

He saw Trailer there, sporting a new set of wheels and getting his tank refueled. “What’s up, Rig?” F-Type greeted. “Just here for some water, I’ll just grab some and—”

“Hey F,” Coupe said, emerging from the front of Trailer.

F-Type made to ignore Coupe, but willed himself to a glare.

“I’m sorry about calling you names F,” Coupe began.

“I’m sorry!” F-Type stammered. “F-for uh, for not listening.”

Coupe smiled a little. “I uh, well, I wasn’t listening very well either, to be honest.”

“No, you weren’t,” F-Type snapped.

Trailer peeked over, his deep voice giving a forced cough.

“You were anxious,” F-Type continued. “I should’ve figured you’d be too sensitive and maybe I shouldn’t���ve been so rude, so uh, I’m sorry we’re both a mess.”

“Me too,” Coupe said. “We’re a couple card houses waiting to topple.”

“You and your analogies, Coupe.”

“Let’s get Four and Motor,” Coupe said. “I was just talking to Trailer he says everything was just fine and we’ll be out of here in five or ten minutes.”

“Sooner’n that I hope,” said 4WD, as he and 2WD entered the shed.

Trailer wonked his diesel horn. “All right Stunt Race FX, let’s roll out! Coupe, F-Type, kiss and be merry let’s go.”

F-Type gave Coupe a friendly wheel scuff on his way back to Trailer’s trailer.

Coupe’s back lights burned red all the way up the tailgate, and stayed on for a solid hour thereafter.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Escape, pt6

Word Count: 2636 Tags: @shewhorunswithfandoms @distinguishedqueenofbooks @anyakinamidala @anotherotter @little-study-bug  @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @wanderingkat77 @bluebird214 @superwholockedbeauty @eyeofdionysus @all-time-foes @girl-next-door-writes @feelmyroarrrr @castiels-ass-butt-1967 @haven-in-writing @sistasarah-sallysaidso @dolamrothianlady @from-kitten-to-kitsune @geeksareunique

Roxanne shivered in anticipation as she zipped up her bike jacket. Peter had given her some vague direction on where the supposed spaceship was and she was equal parts skeptical and excited. But the hope that came with the excitement was overwhelming her skepticism. It made sense. His weird accent, his general naivety about pop culture. The crack about not knowing anything about music after 1989, and the fact that he still had a Walkman. He was either a serial killer with a great imagination or he was telling the truth. She had a twinge of nervousness at the thought. Maybe she shouldn’t be going anywhere with him. Maybe he was a serial killer. But he could have killed her at any point in the past few hours, so maybe he was safe. And maybe he wasn’t.

“Fuck!” She growled and threw her bike helmet onto the driveway in frustration. Peter jumped and backed away.

“What?”

“Are you a serial killer? Are you luring me away from my house to chop me into a hundred little pieces and turn me into stew?” Roxanne put the Harley between her and Peter, just to be safe. He put his hands up and shook his head.

“Not what I had in mind, no. You don’t believe me. I don’t blame you. I didn’t believe it myself when I was beamed onto Yondu’s –“

“Beamed? Like Star Trek?” Roxanne interrupted.

“Not really, no,” Peter paused, thoughtfully. “I guess more like Star Wars? Like a tractor beam.” Roxanne quirked an eyebrow in disbelief, and began to circle back to the doors of the house. Peter’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t move, recognizing that she had become fearful for some reason.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Roxanne started as she headed up the stairs. Peter tapped the side of his head and said something so quietly she couldn’t hear it. The wind in the driveway picked up, swirling leaves around in a mini-tornado. Peter’s jacket blew open. A spotlight shone down on him from up in the sky, and Roxanne ran back down the stairs into the driveway, shielding her eyes and staring into the sky.

“Son of a bitch,” she breathed. There was a spaceship hovering in the air above her driveway. The nose was pointed down, but it looked kind of like an airplane, not a spaceship. Roxanne took a few steps toward Peter. “This is your spaceship?”

“This is the Milano. Would you like to come aboard?” He held out a hand. Without looking away from the ship, Roxanne held out her free hand, and let Peter take it.

“You could still be an ax murderer, you know,” she complained. Peter laughed.

“This would be one helluva complex plan, if that were the case.” He nodded up at the ship, and a ramp descended from the back of it. He led her around to it, and walked up with her, hitting a button on the inner wall when they were inside that closed the back of the ship back up. Standing in what Roxanne assumed was the cargo bay was a raccoon in overalls, pointing some kind of weapon at her. She shrieked and stepped behind Peter.

“The fuck is with the raccoon?” She asked. Peter waved Rocket away and turned to face Roxanne.

“Rocket is okay. But he doesn’t know what a raccoon is, so maybe if you could just call him Rocket?”

“Alien. Sure. Different than I am. I can handle different. Any other crew members that are not humanoid?” Roxanne’s voice wavered.

“Well, Groot is still in sapling form, so he shouldn’t startle you too much. Gamora and Drax don’t look that much different than a human, when everything is said and done,” Peter was thinking out loud.

“Sapling?”

“He’s some sort of giant tree. Or,” Peter paused and pursed his lips, “he was. Now he’s a potted plant.”

“Right. This is not at all what I expected.” Roxanne realized she was still clinging to the back of Peter’s jacket and let go, smoothing the soft leather unnecessarily. Peter glanced over his shoulder with a knowing smirk. He reached back and took her hand, and brought her out to show her it was safe. He tilted his head toward a small tree sitting beside the cassette deck against the far wall.

“That’s Groot.” He stepped over to the stereo and plugged the iPod into it, and set one of the new playlists playing. Groot turned and looked down at the iPod, as though he was reading the display.

“That tree just moved,” Roxanne commented, stepping toward the pot and narrowing her eyes. She reached out and stroked one of the leaves on one of the stems, and could have sworn the tree purred and leaned into her.

“Because the tree is a person, you moron,” Rocket snapped and shoved her out of the way. She lost her balance and toppled into Peter, who caught her effortlessly. He slid his arm around her and watched as Groot squeaked at Rocket. It seemed like just a bunch of squawks and shrill tweets, but Rocket’s shoulders slumped and he sighed, baring his teeth. He turned and faced Roxanne.

“I am sorry that I pushed you,” he started. Groot made some more noise and Rocket sighed and rolled his eyes. “And called you a moron.”

“Well, aren’t you the nicest little tree that ever lived?” Roxanne smiled at Groot, whose tiny head turned toward her and smiled back. It was weird, but she could accept it. She rubbed under his barky chin and watched his leaves ruffle again. Rocket let out a huff of disgust and turned away, muttering.

“Why’d you bring her here, Quill?” Rocket demanded. Peter bristled and turned away from watching Roxanne with Groot.

“I felt like it,” he shrugged. Rocket’s eyes narrowed and he glared at Peter. He glanced over at Roxanne again, who was bopping her head along to the music as she talked at Groot and played with his leaves, and then looked back at Peter, who was staring at Roxanne with something that could only be described as hunger.

“You told Gamora you’d been with a Terran before!” Rocket exclaimed. “But you haven’t!”

“Shut up, Rocket,” Peter warned.

“Why would you lie about that? Humans is no different than any other alien out there. Kree, A’askvariian –“

“She is nothing like an A’askvariian!” Peter interrupted.

“What’s an A’askvariian?” Roxanne looked up, curiosity getting the better of her. The entire argument was somewhat amusing, but the vehemence with which Peter denied her similarity to another alien race was curious enough that she wanted to know.

“Green, tentacles, sharp pointy needle teeth. Not terribly attractive,” Peter explained.

“Don’t forget the gills, Quill,” Rocket added. Roxanne looked down at herself. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket. Seemed pretty normal. Then she looked at the raccoon, and the potted plant that the raccoon insisted was a person. And then she thought about it. To Peter, she would be more appealing for no other reason than that like attracts like. But to Rocket and Groot, she probably was pretty weird looking, with her pale complexion and abundance of weirdly coloured hair. As thought to emphasize the point, a tall, slim woman descended into the cargo area.

“Can you close the cargo bay doors so we can get out of here before someone notices us?” She bent down to glare at Rocket and Roxanne tried not to stare. But it was difficult. She was completely green. She was gorgeous. But she was completely green. She looked at Roxanne, rolled her eyes and looked over at Peter.

“Roxanne, this is Gamora. She’s one of the most deadly assassins in the galaxy,” Peter introduced quickly, before Gamora had a chance to say anything. Roxanne’s breath caught and she couldn’t help but stare at Gamora.

“Nice to meet you?” Roxanne tried. Gamora rolled her eyes again and then forced a smile.

“As Quill has assured me that his pursuit of you has nothing to do with a juvenile attempt to sleep with one of each race in the galaxy, I would suggest that if you are planning on staying on the Milano, you avoid his bunk.” Gamora looked completely forthright and Roxanne had to laugh. She glanced over at Peter, who was actually blushing, and then shot a quick look to Rocket, who had started to giggle.

“On that point Gamora, guess who hasn’t –“

Peter interrupted by leveling his phaser at Rocket. “You really want to go there?”

“What is going on down here? Gamora, you said you were going to make sure we could leave. Why is there arguing and no movement? This planet makes me nervous.” Roxanne shook her head a little, as a hulking shirtless guy came down the ladder behind Gamora. His body was covered in red, raised marks that looked like tattoos, but that Roxanne thought might be part of his natural physiology. She felt a little light-headed. That was four different aliens she’d met in the past ten minutes.

“This is Drax,” Peter announced.

“This woman is what has been preventing us from leaving Terra? I expected something more impressive.” Drax gave Roxanne a critical once-over. Roxanne felt her temper quirk and shot Drax a look.

“Look, buddy, I may not seem that fucking impressive to you, with your red and green skin and ridiculously enormous muscles, but I’m kind of a big fucking deal. The fact that I’m the lead singer in the biggest band on the planet notwithstanding, I have a Masters in Astrophysics, which means my brain is fucking huge. I’m one of only a few hundred people that could actually be exposed to a bunch of aliens and not freak out and go on reality TV claiming all kinds of violation. Instead I’m curious. About you and your stupid worlds. So maybe you should all stop being so goddamn rude to me, and just accept that yes, Pete has never slept with a Terran before and I’m probably the best goddamn woman for the job!” Roxanne stepped toward Drax as she ranted, and poked him in the centre of the chest for emphasis as she spoke. He flinched and backed away from her. He stared in stunned silence for a few seconds before speaking.

“How does your head not leak?” He asked.

“What?” Roxanne’s face was a mask of confusion.

“If your brain is huge, how does it remain constrained within your tiny skull?” He clarified. Roxanne blinked.

“His people don’t understand exaggeration, or metaphor. They’re completely literal,” Peter explained. Roxanne turned to face Peter, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“So when I said I was in the biggest band in the world, did he think I meant there are more people in Pixie Stix than any other band?”

“Quite possibly,” Peter nodded. Roxanne leaned close to him, so her lips were grazing his ear.

“This is not really conducive to you finally getting with a Terran,” Roxanne whispered. Peter let out a soft snort of what Roxanne assumed was laughter.

“No, not really,” he agreed. “Maybe this was a bad idea.” He bit his lip and looked down at the floor. Roxanne sighed and realized they were just not going to happen. Not on a crowded spaceship. Maybe not ever. She wasn’t surprised to find she was okay with that conclusion. Peter had barely popped into her life, and now it appeared he was going to pop back out just as quickly.

“I think so. I’ll just go,” Roxanne excused herself, and stepped toward the cargo ramp. “Maybe next time you are around these parts, you could stop by and say hi.” It took most of her restraint, but she turned and walked down the cargo ramp without looking back. She paused briefly as she stepped back onto the solid ground of her driveway, but blinked, shook her head and kept walking toward the house, bending over to pick up her helmet when she passed it. She heard the mechanical grinding of the ramp pulling back up to close the hull breach and finally turned to watch the ship ascend up into the atmosphere. It shimmered out of sight, probably cloaking itself, but Roxanne could just make out the outline of it as it climbed into the night sky. She quickly dashed up the stairs to the rooftop, planning on trying to track it on its way out of the night sky, and stopped dead as she hit the top stair.

Peter was standing on the roof. She dropped the motorcycle helmet in surprise.

“But?” She pointed at the blurry, cloaked outline of the Milano. Peter shrugged and took a few steps toward her, closing the gap between them.

“Gamora said to tell you that I truly am a whore, and a terrible ambassador for Terra.” His voice was low, and there was a self-deprecating chuckle at the end of the sentence that made Roxanne shake her head.

“I’m in a business where whores are ambassadors, Pete.” Roxanne pressed her hand to his cheek, enjoying the feel of the scraggly growth that wasn’t quite a beard.

“I never liked being called Pete until you did it,” he admitted, taking a final step closer, and sliding his hand along her waist. Roxanne flushed. “I’m not as smart as you are, Roxanne. I’m probably horribly stupid compared to you, actually. I’m a thief by trade, and I have no formal education and –“

“Has that ever mattered to anyone before?” Roxanne asked.

“No. But the galaxy out there, it’s different than Earth is. Merit is measured differently, and what you’ve done is more important than where you’re from or what certificates you hold,” he explained.

“Sounds like I’d rather be a citizen of the galaxy then,” Roxanne shrugged, and looked him in the eyes. “Peter Quill, you are a spaceman. Whether or not you have a degree from a fancy university or not, what you do, every day, is what men and women here on Earth train their entire lives to do. They take advanced degrees, they are in peak physical condition, they are the smartest of the smart. Physics doesn’t work differently just because you are off-planet, Pete. The Milano is yours?”

“Yes?”

“And you’re the primary pilot?”

“Yes?”

“And you know how to enter and exit a variety of atmospheres?”

“Yes?”

“And you can navigate the stars?”

“Well, I have a nav system, but yes.”

“And you’ve walked in zero atmosphere, zero gravity, and lived?”

“Yes?”

“Can you repair the Milano if needed?”

“Yes?”

“Does it run on gasoline or some super special space fuel?”

“Super special space fuel.” His eyes twinkled as he answered.

“And you can troubleshoot any problems with the ship?”

“I already said that, yes.”

“Then you’re just as smart as me,” Roxanne stated. “So shut up.”

“Okay.” Peter just stared at her for a few minutes. She drew in a breath and looked at him again.

“And another thing, Pete,” she started. He nodded. “Why would you think that I care?”

“I –“

“I don’t,” She interrupted.

“Rox, I didn’t even finish elementary school.”

“So? I’ve never been off the planet before,” she shrugged. “Now, I’m done with the pep-talk. I’d like to get back to where we were before.”

“Before?”

“Before insecure-Pete, the earth-virgin reared his ugly head.” Roxanne wiggled her hips against his, and brought his head down to hers. Peter’s arms tightened around her, and he groaned as her lips parted. She pulled away briefly. “There’s no walls to shove me against, and this rooftop is tar and gravel. Could I convince you to join me inside?”

Peter answered by picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder fireman-style, and carrying her down the stairs to the deck off the kitchen.

[nathaniel-donovan]

Staying mostly silently while she went off on her little tangent, Cheddar also bounded over, biting at his ankles and soon purring away like a tractor the moment Nate started interacting with him. Teasing the kitten with his fingers he chuckled faintly as Cheddar misses his index with his final swipe, a loss that caused kitten to spring up on his back legs, grabbing Nate's entire hand with both of his front paws, his back legs now attempting to kick into his owner's palm. "Shame you're not a writer, huh?" he teased Chloe, looking into her direction briefly to flash a wink her way before his focus went back onto Cheddar - a kitten that was still determined to claw the absolute shit out of his hand. "I'd root for the astronaut," he mused, responding to her movie plot she had just made up - it wasn't just because he had a love for space, "He'd be out of this world." it's a joke, a bad joke, one that has Nate instantly chuckling apparently finding himself funny as he moved the hand his kitten was locked into from side to side. Eventually Cheddar does ease up, giving Nate that freedom to move his hand away as his pet went pouncing over to his scratching post.

Leaning back into the couch slightly he sighs, not having any prior intentions of dipping their mood and yet, his own recently had been completely stuck in a sense of emotional limbo. Maybe it was even a bit more than that, but he hadn't quite figured it out. Not that he had tried to. Nate never really sort to go through whatever demons that plagued him alone, it was just how it had worked out for him. It was just something he was used to, how did somebody who didn't find it easy to express emotions, express them? It was easier for Nate to drive off on his own, cry, and come back acting as if everything was fine. Though that principle wasn't exactly easy to apply to when it came to his sister's death, it wasn't so easy to forget and mentally? He felt like he fucking failed her.

Chloe managed to pull the laugh out of Nate that she wanted, shaking his head as if to respond to her - no, he didn't miss alcohol for the hangovers. Her second guess, he figured her real one, hit the nail straight on the head. What'd they say? Drink to forget? Accurate. Nate drank to numb his mind and he was miserable because he missed it. All he could think of was how fucked up he was, how the last year had completely done a one-eighty on all of the progress he made to get him to where he was, and now? Back to square one and believing he wasn't worth anything at all - hand on heart, he couldn't have hated himself more - all feelings that were easy enough to suppress because a bright smile and laughter made people think you were fine.

"Yeah I know..." he finally speaks up with Alara being mentioned, feeling a small hint of guilt seeping through. Should he be being more honest with her? Probably. "They're fine and I..." he pauses just to think, not really knowing what he wanted to say, "I guess I don't want to ruin anything by being..." he trailed off again, feeling nervous with the honesty, "...Myself?" it's spoken as a question, not really for Chloe, but for himself. Realising that maybe that was just it, along with that added fact of him never wanting to drag Alara down to his level, because in his mind, she was so much more than that, she was incredible in everyway that he wasn't and he would always think she deserved better - because look at him. He sighed, moving his hand away from Chloe's, dragging it down his face, "I don't know, Chlo," he shook his head faintly, "Can't change someone who's broken." he admits softly, not looking for any reaction to it, it's an honest thought and one that was followed by a sad smile if you caught it and a small chuckle, because it was just that really, Nate was a little broken.

While he was trying to keep himself upbeat, wanting to steady his own mood more than anything, knowing he didn't need to keep fucking emotionally falling down and hitting the ground, he kept himself focused on his friend and the gifts she was unwrapping. Knowing that really he had lied about not giving her everything on her birthday, why? He didn't want to make her sad - what with the keyring inside the bag being her brother's. "Yeah I know," he started laughing when she called him awful, because yeah, he had looked through the book. "Marked my favourite, also. Let me know when you find it." he doesn't mean now, he means later on, knowing that he had sketched a little 'x' on the page that made him actually laugh out loud. When she set eyes on the keychain he smiled softly, "Found it at the club." he answers, it was a little more to it than that but he didn't really need to get into it and his whole thought process behind it. He chuckled faintly, "She's not that bad." Jasper's girlfriend, that was, not that he really knew her, he was just giving the woman the benefit of the doubt. "Yeah I know just tryna make sure I get presents in March, you know?" for his birthday, obviously. Naturally he was joking, never being one to ask for anything, or want anyone to spend money on him. He was just trying to lighten their mood considering he knew Chloe was trying not to cry.

"I am also not an archeologist, yet here we are." Taking a moment to move back, Chloe put the rest of the food into her mouth and chewed it slowly. At least, whenever she was around Nate, she didn't have to pretend to be too much of a lady. When she was younger, she was slightly jealous of the girls who had that natural elegance around them. Because Chloe grew up with a brother, that elegance presented in a wildly different way. Not that she'd have it any other way, alas. "Oh, actually, it is a good idea. Thinking about it, the main male lead would be the date guy. You'd have three kinds of specific proposals: maybe one is an artist of a sort, a second business man and then the third an astronaut or something. But then she runs into a completely unsuspecting guy and they end up having this twenty-four-hour date?" She clicked her tongue, the movie almost playing in her head, as she could see it right before her eyes. "I think it would be a hit." She finished her coffee and placed the empty cup on the floor.

To go through these things was never easy and Chloe remembered as if it was yesterday how hard it was for him the last time. At least right now he seemed to be more vigilant about what was happening and knowing him it was because there were more people in his life. That was Nate, if he was alone, he wouldn't give a shit about what was happening to him. Chloe moved closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder, and taking his hand into hers. "It's not like you have to go through it alone." Even though he wouldn't have wanted to put his troubles on anyone else - she knew that. "What do you miss the most about it? It can't be the horrible hangovers, because if yes, then you are way more psychotic than I ever thought." She wanted to lighten up the mood a bit, yet still make sure he was comfortable enough to talk about it. "If it's because you want to forget or not think about certain things..." The literal explanation of drowning sorrows, she guessed, "maybe you should try to shift your focus? How about just talking to people when you feel down? I mean, you have Alara, you love her, so aren't you supposed to be able to do all that? How are things there?"

Chloe tapped his hand a few times in support before lifting her head and grinning while he walked off. "You didn't." She didn't expect anything, nor did she feel there was a need for him to go out of his way. Actually, she really hoped he didn't. As she opened her presents, a light chuckle left her when she flipped through the book. "I bet you read this before giving it to me. You're so awful." As her eyes drifted to the keychain, her lower lip quivered because she knew exactly what it was. "How did you..." It was the best gift, especially since it was Jaspers, another piece that belong to him that she could have by her side. "I'm thankful you gave this to me and not.. You know who." She meant the girlfriend, and was definitely trying to lighten up the mood as she didn't want to cry. "I bet she'd come over to cry to me about it too... Thanks, Nate. You didn't have to with any of them, but I appreciate it nonetheless."

[writemarvelousthings]

Ride With Me (Part 10)

PAIRING: readerxbuckybarnes au

WORD COUNT: 2,6K

WARNINGS: swearing, SMUT (basically oral)  

*As (Y/N) tries to make sense of this new formed relationship with Bucky the last thing she needs is a visit from his ex girlfriend. 

Previous Chapter 

GIFS NOT MINE 

The bight warm light blinded you slightly was the first thing your mind registered as you woke, lying on your front hugging your pillow your ears pricked up at the sound of a low moan. Turning your head you smiled at the sight before you, Bucky was lay on his back. His left arm was thrown above his head. His dark hair was stern across your dark grey pillow; the bed sheets were barley covering his naked hips. The dark trail of hair teased you as to what was being covered. Not like you didn’t get an eye full last night.

“Morning darlin” you felt you heart and core flutter at the sound of his gruff morning voice.  You smiled as you shifted your body towards him, resting your head on your arms as you gazed up at him. Smiling lazily.

“Good Morning”

“Last night was… pretty great” Bucky grinned as his right hand drew patterns on your bare back.

“Which time?” you giggled, when you both came back from the fire escape sleep was the last thing on your minds.

“Which round was it when you did that thing with your tongue?” the cheeky grin made you bury you face in the pillow as Bucky’s laugh reverberated across the mattress. You couldn’t help but join in with him as the memories of last night flooded your mind.  

“I can’t remember, it was either round two or three” you smirked as Bucky growled flipping you on your back as he cadged your body against the mattress with his own.

“Let me remind you then” you let out a pear of laughter as Bucky attacked your neck.

“How are you going to remind me of something I...I did to…you?” you gasped out as Bucky moved down to your collarbone, sucking and nibbling as he carried out his decent.

“I guess I’ll have to improvise” you glanced down to see Bucky disappear under the bed sheet. You could feel Bucky’s stubble graze the tops of your thighs; his warm breath blew against the cool wet slick of your pussy. You gasped in pleasure as he pressed soft kisses around your inner thigh.

“I think you’ll find I’m missing a vital body part” your voice shook slightly. The sound of Bucky placing wet sloppy kissed on your skin was borderline pornographic.

“I’m sure I can manage it” Bucky’s lips brushed along your inner, inner thigh. Pulling the sheet off the two of you, the sight of Bucky his hair wild and his blue eyes boring into your own gauging your reaction made you fall back onto the mattress moaning. But you didn’t stay there for long, your back arching up as Bucky’s lips came into contact with your clit. You dug your nails into the mattress as Bucky sucked the sensitive bud hard; you swore you could see black spots in your vision as Bucky’s hand slid up your thigh. Still keeping his mouth firmly on your mound, is tongue working small circles over your clit. He varied in hard long circles to short light jabs, your body convulsed as he slips two fingers into your dripping cunt. You moaned as Bucky pulled his mouth off you with a loud pop.

“Don’t stop” you wined jutting your hips up as you weaved your fingers in his hair, Bucky purred under your hand as he gently nipped at your hip bone.

“Oh don’t worry doll, I’m planning to take my time with you” he scooted up onto his knees, moving his hands to yours, he spread you wide before him. You instinctively sat up cupping your hand around his neck you pulled him down to kiss you. It was slow and lazy, Bucky moaned as he cupped your breasts into his large hands. Kneading the flesh he rolled your nipples between his fingers, the sensation caused you to break away from him. Resting your forehead against his own your hips jutted forward causing your thigh to rub up against Bucky’s painful errection. Reaching down with your right hand you dipped three fingers into your dripping core then wrapped your hand around his girth, you slid your hand up and down his length using your own slick as lubricant you both groan. Twisting your wrist to grasp his head you pulled slightly before sliding your palm back to the base of his cock. You were rewarded with the sound of Bucky’s breathless moans in your ear as he rested the side of his head against yours; you repeated your motions a few times as Bucky mewled with pleasure. You cried out when Bucky’s left hand plunged into your core gathering your wetness to spread across your folds and up to your clit. He kept a stead rhythm circling it as you pumped him up and down, you could feel your body responding to his movements as you quickened your pace. Both of your hips moved in time with the others hand movements as you raced to finish each other off. Grabbing a hand full of his hair you brought your lips crashing together as you felt the familiar sensation shoot through you.

“Ah, Bucky... oh...fuck” you whimpered as Bucky slipped two fingers into your entrance moving them in a ‘come-here’ motion hitting your g-spot.

“Yes…mmm… ah (Y/N) don’t stop…. Mm so close” Bucky’s strangled cry only spurred you on.

“Cum for me Buck” you purred into his ear, your seal of permission was all he needed as he snapped his hips up, his dick pulsed in your grasp as he shot his load over your hand and on your belly. The sight of Bucky loosing himself to pleasure was all you needed to scream out falling back onto the mattress, Bucky’s fingers moved to your clit as you road out your orgasm. You shook violent as Bucky probed your over stimulated clit; it took you a few moments to come back down to earth as you lay on your back. Bucky was spent beside you, his left arm strewn across your waist. You let your fingers dance across his tattoo as you looked down at him.

“I think I remember now” you sighed Bucky chuckled breathlessly.

“Good cause I’d be insulted if you didn’t” you let out a bark of laughter as Bucky pulled himself on his hands and knees shaking slightly.

“I’ll be right back” he pecked you on the lips as he walked towards you bedroom door. Rolling onto your side you marveled at his bare ass as he walked away.  

“You better be checking me out doll” Bucky called over his shoulder as he turned into your bathroom.

“You’re damn right I am” you hollered back, you smiled as you heard the water run on for a few seconds then shut off.

“Would have guess this relationship was all about my great ass” Bucky teased as he walked back in rubbing a wet wash cloth against his toned stomach, the sight of him rubbing his own cock had you drooling in seconds. He raised an eye at you, throwing the cloth back into the bathroom it landed with a wet splat as he approached you with a fresh damp one. Pushing you gently on your back you let him clean you up, the soft gentle movements made you purr in content.

“Are you working today?” Bucky asked softly as your eyes started to droop.

“Not till seven” you yawned, reaching down for the sheets and comforter you pulled them up to your shoulder holding them out for Bucky.

“Now get under here soldier, that’s an order” Bucky shook his head at you as he slid under the blanket cocoon, pulling your body to curve around his.

“Yes Ma’am”

“I’ll see you later then?” you pulled your bag higher on your shoulder as Bucky straddled his bike before you. The sun was setting over Hawkeyes as Bucky shook his head at you.

“I’ve got to see Tony about some new deign for a bike, we’ll probably be late working on it” you sighed rolling your eyes in jest.

“Boy’s and their toys, that’s fine tell Tony I say hi” you leaned over to peck him softly on the lips.

“Will do doll” you waited until the roar of his bike was a distance rumble before turning to walk into the bar.

“Finally decided to grace us with your presence” Clint called over as soon as he spotted you, but you ignore him as you rushed over to the woman behind the bar.

“I didn’t know you were working tonight?” you pulled the brunette into a tight hug, Wanda laughed slightly at your eager greeting.

“Pietro got the ok to go home, Sam’s with him at their place so I thought I’d give Luis a night off to woo his lady friend,” you giggled along with her.

“Does this mean I have my roommate back?”  Wanda nodded at you.

“Yep, you’re stuck with me unfortunately” she teased as you walked back into the locker room.

“Better than working with this old man” you poked your thumb at Clint as you placed your things in your locker.

“I’m not that much older than you” Clint rolled his eyes wiping down the counter.

“Please just yesterday you were talking about retiring to a farm” the deep raspy voice of Natasha cut into your teasing.

“So what, there’s nothing wrong with a man swapping his bike for a tractor” Clint defended himself against the loud giggles.

“You keep tell yourself that Pop’s” you patted Clint’s chest in mock sympathy as he let out a disgruntled sound.

“Women” he muttered stomping off to his office.

“Good to have you back” Natasha smiled at Wanda who poured her usual as you grab a bottle of water from the small fridge under the bar.

“It’s good to be back, after everything that happened. It’s nice to get some kind of routine back. So fill me in, what have I missed?” Wanda leaned her elbows on the bar looking back and forth at the two of you.

“(Y/N) and Bucky are fucking” you choked violently on your water at Natasha brash comment. Thumping your chest you tried to regain your normal breathing pattered, the violent coughing alerted Clint who poked his head around the corner.

“That’s karma for making old man jokes,” he stated before disappearing again.  

“That’s not…we’re not….” you wheezed trying to defend yourself.

“Please, I was with Barnes yesterday when he got your text. And I saw you guys kissing outside and he was wearing the same outfit” you felt the tips of your ears burn as Wanda looked at you wide eyed. Neither Wanda Natasha nor yourself paid any attention to the front door opening behind you.

“You’re perceptive I’ll give you that” you grumbled wiping you chin of water.

“So you are? You and Bucky are fucking?” Wanda whispered the last word in shock.

“It’s not just fucking Jesus Christ what are we sixteen?” you rolled you eyes placing the bottle on the counter as you sighed, trying to figure out the best way to explain everything.

“The day of Pietro’s accident Bucky and I were at the docks and we kissed, he said he wanted me. Only me, then everything went to shit and I got radio silence for a month. Loki payed me a delightful threatening visit so I asked Bucky to come over, he explained his past with Hela and one thing led to another and….”

“You fucked” Natasha cut you off

“Several times” you smirked as the two woman howled softly cat calling you.

“God you’re all pathetic” you felt your body straighten up at the new unwelcome voice, turning you were met with the dark haired beauty leaning against the counter.

“Me and Bucky use to have sex a lot more than that” she smirked wickedly.

“Oh get over yourself Hela, it’s not all about you” Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly vexed by the other woman’s presence.

“I think you’ll find it is all about me, I take it my Dad’s little visit wasn’t enough to kick you out of town”

“It takes more than you crying to Daddy to get me to leave. Did you actually think that would work? Or are you hiding the fact that your a natural blonde?” you titled your head in mock curiosity. Hela bristled at the underlying meaning in your comment.

“I’m not stupid” she seethed.

“Let’s not say thing’s we don’t mean” you scoffed; your jab only caused Hela’s rage to bubble even more.

“You know I don’t get you two as a couple, he’s always been one to fall to hard and too fast. But then again, you seam to attract that kind of guy don’t you (Y/N)” you felt the rage monster inside you snarl in warning. What the fuck was she saying?

“See (Y/N) guys like Bucky will always be running around after the sad broken girls who are looking for a bad boy as a distraction. It’s quite sad really, I wonder what little Trish would say if she only knew what you were really like” you felt your heart beat against your chest.

“Careful what you wish for (Y/N) but sometimes the past comes back to haunt you” Hela’s red painted lips pulled across her white teeth in an almost snarling smile.  You moved slowly, like you were staling your prey. You felt Natasha move behind you as back up, like two lioness eyeing an enemy hyena.

“I’m going to give you some advice little girl” you voice was low and smooth; you were slightly impressed you could keep your voice level.

“Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, yes I’ve made mistakes. I know what kind of person I am and I’ve come out a lot stronger than you. A sad lonely jealous girl who runs to Daddy when things get a bit to difficult for her to handle. Now I’m going to give you a chance to walk out of this bar without a scratch on you, we both know that I could do my nails and rip you apart at the same time. Now get out you bitch” you were stood toe-to-toe with her, you could feel the rage rising up inside you as Hela regarded you with a cool indifference. There was a beat of silence between you before she started laughing.

“Game on” she whispered before twirling around and strutting out of the bar.

“You know, that girl is getting crazier and crazier each day” Wanda remarked from behind the bar, you turned leaning up against the counter with a shaky sigh.

“Ok you want to tell us what the fuck she was talking about?” you went to argue that it was nothing but Natasha cut you off.

“No, no. That wasn’t a request. Sit. Talk” and you did, you told them everything. What happened to Jeremy, what happened with Danny and Trish. It came pouring out of you like a flowing river. Once you finished your story Wanda and Natasha stood processing the information dumb.

“Well, at least you didn’t kill anybody. That would be a lot harder to testify against in court” Wanda joked, you felt the pent up tension easy from your shoulders the two woman smiled softly at you.

“You don’t think I’m fucked up?” you asked timidly.

“Oh no you’re fucked up, same as anyone else around her” you laughed in slight relief at Natasha quip, she was right. You, Bucky, Hela you were all fucked up. The trouble was if Hela knew about your disastrous relationship, who else knew. Who told her? The questions went around and around in your mind like a merry-go-round. Spinning and spinning through the list of faces that could have possibly told Hela but who was it?

Next Chapter 

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