#so i’m gonna get straight back to working on comms tomorrow!!

[humanblt]

OKAY I’M STILL A LIL SICK AND IT’S WHY I’VE NOT BEEN ACTIVE MUCH ON HERE BUT LOOK AT MY WIFE THIS IS THE MOST ATTRACTIVE THING EVER

[chelleztjs18]

This One Is Mine Pt. 1 (N.R)

Billionaire Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a billionaire and a successful business woman, Natasha has everything and lives her lavish life with her best friends. What will happen if Natasha wants you but Wanda gets in between?

Warning: Dark fic, 18+, bunch of sexual tensions, swearing words, drug use and alcohol consumptions. (Let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: Hello! I was gonna post this tomorrow as in the schedule but I'll be kinda busy tomorrow. So, why not post it a day early, right? Natasha and her friends wears the clothes that was shown in the cover except Wanda, she wears a dress with the same color. You don't have to listen to the songs in the fic while reading it but if you do, I hope it will make your reading experience more enjoyable. Happy reading! Here is the playlist for this series:

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

The moon shines up high, a cold breeze passes your legs that are fully exposed. The warmth of your short skirt only covers down to a little above your knee. If it’s not because your best friends Kate and MJ insist for you to come, you are probably home by now but you are in line with them to get into this one famous fancy night club called “Black Widow'' instead. You are not gonna lie, it is one of your favorite clubs to go to. You love the drinks, great dj not to mention the people who come here always look good. It’s not a secret that there are a lot of upper class people who love to party here. The club is always packed every time you come.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t even change your clothes before you came here. You looked like someone just came here straight from work.” Kate lets out her comment.

“Uh maybe because I came STRAIGHT from work, Kate. I could’ve gone home first to change my clothes if you didn’t text me every five minutes to hurry up.” You defend yourself with your reason. “Also, what’s wrong with the button up blouse and my mini skirt? I think it’s not that bad.” You added.

“I know. I know. I’m just excited. We are here to celebrate you. It’s your night. It would be more fun and more friends would come if you didn’t ask to keep it low-key.” Kate rolls her eyes playfully yet letting out her disappointment.

“Well, it’s okay. I don’t want it to make a big deal about it. I just want to celebrate it with you two. You two are my best friends and that’s enough for me.” You explain with a fake pout but genuinely meant every word.

“Awww, y/n, that’s really sweet. Don’t worry about what Kate just said. You look pretty and we understand. Thank you for doing this with us.” M.J responds in awe as she gives you a little hug and smiles at you and Kate.

“Yes, I’m glad I’m part of tonight’s fun. We love you. You know that?” The brown haired woman smiles and squeezes in another hug.

“Of course.” You answer as you check the time on your watch.

The night gets colder and the line is getting longer. The three of you have a great laugh and talk while waiting in line. The security lets some people in every time there are some people leaving the club.

The three of you are getting closer to your turn to get in and you get excited, especially Kate. She loves the place more than you do, hence the destination choice she made for the girls night out with you and M.J.

As soon as the security almost opens the way to let somes group of people ahead of you, someone talks to him through the COMM in his ears, and everything changes. He stops himself from letting people in.

“Sorry folks. VIP first.” He explains as he turns his back and focuses on who is coming. You hear overlapped voices of disappointment from the others in line including Kate’s and MJ’s.

“This is so unfair. How much longer we gotta wait. I wonder who’s coming. Oh maybe a celebrity? Look at those paparazzi.” MJ lets out her impatience followed by her wandering thoughts. “Or probably just another rich person, MJ. You know this place, always full of them..” You calmly respond as you playfully slap her arm with the back of your hand and patch a smirk at her.

Not too long after that, a shiny black limousine pulled up and parked in front of the club. The street light shines and reflects on some parts of the car. The windows are all dark as if it meant to avoid any attention to whoever is inside while on the road.

People start talking and wondering who it is gonna be. All eyes are on the limo as if it doesn’t matter for them anymore if they get into the club or not.

The paparazzi are all ready to snap pictures just like an army who are ready for what’s coming  in front of them. They all know who’s in the luxury moving box of steel.

All the commotions really drag your attention and your gaze to the center of it. You hear people asking each other “Oh my God, who is it?” or “I heard that she’s coming tonight. It’s her birthday today.” and “Do you think she’s coming with the others? I really want to see all of them.”

With all those overlapping comments, your mind gets so curious. You look at the limo without even blinking. Who is she? Who is this woman they were talking about?

The door finally opens, you see a woman coming out of the limo. A super attractive red-haired woman wears bright red suits and pants with a black lapel that blends in perfectly with her loose satin shirt under it. All of those paired beautifully with her black clutch. Her black and silver necklace cooperates with her same color high heels to highlight her black and red vibes.

You are so intrigued by her. You don't know why your mind imagines your fingers raking through her short red hair, caressing it. You are stunned by her look until you hear Kate’s voice.

“OMG! That’s Natasha Romanoff! Damn, she looks so good! I hope her sister Yelena will be here too. I have a huge crush on her.” Kate comments in amazement.

“Natasha who? Her sister?” You look at Kate with furrowed eyebrows as you ask confusedly. “Seriously? You don’t know who Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova are? Okay, I’ll tell you more after this.” Kate’s hand squeezes your hand excitedly as she looks surprised but she gets distracted with more people who get out of the limo. You look at Vision offering his hand to help his wife, Wanda, to come out. Her twin brother, Pietro comes out next followed by Tony Stark.

“Oh wow, The Maximoff twins are here too with Vision and Tony stark. So the whole gang's here.” MJ’s comment leads your gaze to bounce between the rest of them.

You know The Maximoff twins. Who doesn’t? They are the Sokovian siblings who inherit their parents’ fortune of Maximoff Co. but their business skill multiplies it. Not just that, people know them from their lavish lifestyle.

Vision, who used to be the British Royal family doctor and now the owner of many big hospitals in big states. He holds Wanda's hand as they slowly walk behind Natasha. You always adore them. To you, they are that power couple. It’s no secret that they have an open marriage and paparazzi often snap pictures of them with who they call “partner in fun”. In every snap, they are with a different person. Wanda and Vision always wear matching clothes, similar themes or at least whatever colors that compliments each other.

Of course, the brunette Wanda looks so alluring yet sophisticated. Her long sleeve burgundy red somewhat short dress with a slit exposing her thigh with a very low cut perfectly highlighted her cleavage. The dress wrapped her heavenly body perfectly. Wanda’s burgundy dress matches ideally with Vision’s shades of brown jacket and pants over his cream turtleneck.

Her brother Pietro, the ladies man,wears his black suit, spreading his charm. Clearly busy giving teaseful wink or smirks. Some girls are even lucky enough to get their hand kissed by him. From their excited reaction, you guess that they probably won’t wash their hands for a few days.

Then there is Tony Stark, the only heirs of Stark’s family wealth and company. It’s not a surprise to you that Tony’s fashion is a little more different than the others. This time he wore blue suits with black tie and pants. His gray shirts peeping out from under his jacket suit. Being eccentric he is, of course he wears different style athletic blue and black shoes and never forgets his glasses. In his defense, he once said in an interview that always wears sunglasses because of the camera flashes. But seeing he’s wearing the light blue shades right now that probably can’t really block the brightness of the flashes, it’s obviously only for fashion purposes instead. He gives a kiss on the cheek of one of the ladies who asks for a selfie with him shortly before he follows his friends into the club.

To your surprise, you caught Natasha and Wanda glance at you as they walked past in front of the line. Natasha’s glance makes your stomach somersault, instantly making your heart beat faster. Meanwhile, Wanda’s glance at you from head to toe and smirks make you feel like you are a prey, voluntarily.

“Wow, they all look so cool.” MJ doesn’t take her eyes off them until Nat and the rest get into the club. “Yeah but too bad, Yelena is not here.” Kate sighs in disappointment.

“Okay, I know the rest of them but who are Natasha and Yelena?” You ask curiously.

“She is a famous business woman. She is super rich, the CEO of Romanoff Inc. Her company is really big and goes international. She runs it with her sister Yelena. You know the twins and Tony Stark but you don’t know her? They are all best friends and hang out together. Their lifestyle is everybody’s dream.” Kate answers you in rambling.

“Well, Kate, you know me. I don’t really keep up with this whole famous people thing in social media. Work gets me really busy.” You respond to her rambling.

“That’s why you need this night! To have fun. Okay?” MJ tries to cheer you up. “Yeah, we will, After we finally get in.” You let out a sarcastic joke and made your best friends giggle.

_____

As soon as Natasha takes a seat on her VIP couch, she takes a sip of her favorite cocktails.Tell Me When To Go by E-40 plays loud in the club. Her eyes are analyzing her club tonight. She is happy with the new manager’s work. She loves how packed the club is, her eyes subconsciously look for you and her mind wonders if you are already inside or not.

“Happy birthday, darling.” Wanda gives a small kiss to both of Nat’s cheeks as she hands the redhead an envelope before she sits on Nat’s left side. Vision takes his spot next to his wife while Tony slouches next to Nat and Pietro sits side by side with his brother in law on the comfy large black and red U shaped couch. They always sit in the VIP spot that’s always reserved only for them. It has the best view of the club. They love it because practically they can see almost every spot in the club but still a little further from public and have some more privacy. Two dancing poles in front of each end of the couch.

The black table is perfectly set up like usual with bottles of expensive alcohol, ice buckets, snacks or everything they need and even their high end custom made bongs complete with their weed stash. Their favorite drinks and cocktails have been made prior to their arrival. Some bodyguards take a stand not too far from them. Pietro lit up his cigar right away. His eyes observe the surroundings. Excited with the crowd, especially the ladies. He blows out some smoke then takes a sip of his drinks.

“What’s this?” Nat takes the black envelopes as she asks and her green eyes meet with Wanda’s. “It’s your birthday gift from me, Vision and Pietro. Open it.” The brunette answers.

Nat quickly opens it and pulls a photo out of it. “A picture of a yacht?” She tilts her head in confusion.

“YOUR yacht. You sold yours a while ago and you have been too busy to get a new yacht. So we got you one.” Wanda answered excitedly. “Oh wow, thanks Wanda. Thank you boys.” Nat’s gaze flicks from Wanda, Vision then to Pietro as she shows them her gratitude.

“You are very welcomed, Nat. They berthed it next to ours right now. We didn't want to ruin the surprise for you if they brought it to your spot.” Vision explains then proceeds to light up the weed on the bong and inhale the smoke of it.

“You are welcomed, sestra! I picked the bigger size, so you can have a bigger party. Just don’t forget to invite us when you have a party.” Pietro answered jokingly. Wanda and Vision laugh at his jokes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget, Piet.” Nat smiles and shakes her head to his antics. “And now, it’s my turn. Happy birthday, Romanoff.” Tony hands her a small red box then smokes a weed joint on his other hand.

Nat opens it and finds a key in it. “This is the key to..?” She asks in a playful way. “Well, it’s just a small gift. Do you remember the winery you like in Sonoma? Not too far from it, I saw this nice property with a nice Spanish style house. It would be a nice getaway for you. I added a little touch. You know, a shooting range, and a spacious gym since you and your family love shooting guns and martial arts. Plus extra space for some of your precious car collections.” Tony casually describes his so-called small birthday gift.

“Oh wow, thank you Tony. All of you gave me these huge gifts. Now, I’m gonna have to give you better gifts on your birthdays.” Nat lets out her joke. The bass from the speakers starts to pound the air as the DJ plays Flip The Switch by Valentino Khan, Chris Lorenzo in line.

“Oh, you know what I like, Nat. If you find any interesting women, share them with me. Or let us have them after you, right, Vis?” Wanda answers her best friend in a teasing way and Vision agrees with an excited “Uh-huh.” in his nods then kisses Wanda’s cheeks.

“Well, just like Pietro said, just don’t forget to invite us if you are having a party.” Tony adds.

“Speaking of parties, I have another gift for our party tonight.” Pietro announced enthusiastically. “What’s that?” Nat turns her focus from the dance floor back to Pietro. “Well, I bought a bottle of old original Absinthe liquor. It’s so strong and it even can make you hallucinate a bit.” The Sokovian billionaire describes as he takes the bong from his brother in law to take his turn to smoke.

“Oh really? I have heard about it. Where is it now?” Nat pitches her question a little louder against the loudness of the music and people partying. “I told my assistant to send it here. Your bartender should be making some drinks for us with it by now.” Pietro smiles proudly about his surprise followed by some coughs out of him.

“Oh, which assistant? The one that Wanda fucked yesterday before the big important meeting with me and the board?” Nat smirks casually joking about what Wanda did. The brunette is really open with her best friends and brother including Vision about how high her sex drive is and how much she loves women. She knows her friends are okay with it, the downfall is they sometimes poke fun out of it just like Nat did. “Yeah, that one.” Pietro laughs.

“Oh, her? Yes, I did and she is really good. A really obedient assistant. She was so…let’s say, tight.” Wanda shares her short trip to yesterday’s memory of hers as she gently bites her lower lips then gives Nat a naughty smile.

Both Natasha’s index finger and thumb softly pinch Wanda’s chin so she can look at her forest green eyes that spark from the aggressive blinking spotlights following the beats for the music. “Oh, I know that, sweetheart. I know how she is.” Nat gives her response to the brunette next to her then wink at her.

The waitress brings a tray of cocktails that has the Absinthe that Pietro got for tonight. All of them cheer and take a big gulp of the green liquor.

Just like Pietro said about the Absinthe, they all start to get tipsy in a different way not to mention the effect from smoking the weed starts to kick in. Their body starts to relax more, but their throat still feels the warmth from what they drank and their heart starts to pump a little faster.

“Look what I’ve got! Look at these white beauties. Maximoffs, yours was really good last time but trust me, this one is even better.” Tony casually tosses a medium size bag of cocaine on the table. It’s more than enough for five of them to share all night long.

Wanda slowly blows the smoke from the burning weed that she inhaled. She hands the bong to Natasha for her turn shortly before she grabs the bag to check the white substance in it. “This looks good and if it hits good, give me the seller number, Stark.” Wanda's broad accent always shows up bolder whenever she gets drunk or high.

As Natasha is taking a hit, her eyes finally lock with the person she has been waiting for, you. She casually blows the smoke out, coughing a little as she watches you and your friends get to the bar.

_____

"Oh my god! Finally!" Kate tries her best holding herself not to jump in excitement as soon as the three of you get into the club.

You can feel the bass as if it punches your heart following the song beat. Some people bump into you when you are walking. The smells of alcohol, cigarette smokes and light marijuana fill the club. Your eyes keep trying to adjust with the light that keeps blinking in a random rhythm. The air feels sticky and warm from how many people are in there yet you also feel the cold breeze from the air conditioner that works really well.

You see two large screens on the high walls shining bright plays optical illusion video that match with the rhythm of the music. Few sexy female dancers dance on the dance pole and some of them dance inside giant bird cages. Some of them swing on the swing inside the cages like canary bird. People are dancing, jumping like crazy that you thought it was the effect of whatever they consume. You see some couples or maybe they just met there kissing in the darker part of the club like there is no tomorrow.

You and the girls walk to the bar right away. The bartender was about to greet you but he got a call. “Hey, Dimitri. Make them the same drinks you made us. Then give those three girls whatever they want, it’s on the house. Keep the drink flowing for them. Also tell Boris to tell the securities to let them do whatever they want as long as it's not dangerous.” Nat ordered from the other end of the line. “Yes, boss.” The blonde Russian bartender takes Nat’s order without any question.

Lose Control by Missy Elliot Ft, Ciara starts to play. You enjoy the vibe around you, the music makes you move your body a little unlike Kate, she literally starts dancing as she starts to sing the lyric

“Wow, this place is always a hit. Look at those beautiful people. I always love the DJ here. Look at Kate, she is not even drunk yet but already dancing like one of those dancers.” MJ looks around and comments on everything she sees including joking about Kate. “Well, you know how she is, MJ.” You laugh. Then you feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around so do MJ and Kate as soon as they notice.

“Hi ladies. Ms. Romanoff ordered this for three of you. Don’t worry about what you order tonight. She will take care of your tab.” Dimitri informs the three of you with a smile and slides three green cocktails in front of you girls.

Kate and MJ gasp. “No, fucking way!! Ms. Romanoff, THE Ms. Romanoff?” MJ asks in such disbelief and you are more concerned about what’s in the drink.

“What’s this?” You asked. “It’s house special drink. Trust me, this is really good with a very expensive strong liquor called absinthe. You are lucky to be able to try this.” The blonde answers in a friendly manner.

“Oh, we are definitely drinking this. I've heard about that liquor. Thank  you!” Kate quickly grabs her drink. You sweetly thank him and grab yours, so does MJ. “Well normally, I wouldn’t drink anything from—” You try to express your thoughts but Kate doesn’t even let you finish your words. “Girl! Are you crazy? It’s from Natasha Romanoff, you better drink that! Wow, this is awesome. I wonder where she is watching us from.” Kate looks around the club to find Nat but the crowd is blocking the view.

“This means she is interested in you because I saw how she glanced at you. Wanda was looking at you too.” MJ tells you and Kate as she drinks her drink.

“You did too? I thought I was hallucinating when I noticed that earlier.” You finally tell them what was on your mind as you drink the strong cocktail. “How awesome would it be if she is really interested in you??” The excitement from Kate’s tone was easily heard despite how loud the club was.

“There's no way she is interested in me.” You roll your eyes playfully. “That’s a bummer.” MJ plays along with the joke. “Why not? There's a chance that she does." Kate winks at you. “You are crazy.” You shake your head at Kate’s comment and giggle but it gets into your head a little bit. Who would say no to the charming Natasha Romanoff. The first time you saw her, your mind was already all over the place. You imagine you caress her hair in a certain position, so close to you, for crying out loud.

You and the girls hang out near the bar a little longer and drink three more of the same drink. The three of you underestimated the strength of the alcohol in it from how smooth it is. You thought that the bartender was right, the drink is strong. It hits you harder than you thought it would be.

You can feel yourself start to get drunk., not tipsy but drunk. You can see that Kate and MJ are in the same state as you. You hear the DJ starting to play Heads Will Roll - A-Trak Remix by Yeah Yeah Yeah now. People start to cheer from knowing what’s gonna play soon from the intro, including Kate and MJ.

“Y/n! I love this song!! Let’s go to the dance floor now!” Kate and MJ drunkenly pull you to get to the dance floor. The more the alcohol gets in your blood, the faster your heart beats. The louder people cheer and the song gets the more you want to move and you start to dance under the alcohol influence with your friends. The three of you laugh and dance. Your eyes start to search for Nat albeit how drunk you are now. Little do you know that she has been watching you this whole time.

She watches and analyzes you. She notices that every time a man tries to dance with you, you will quickly refuse or drag yourself away but you are comfortable dancing with any girls who approach you. The more she watches the way you dance and your smile, the more she is drawn to you. She wants you. For some reason, she sees that you are different from other girls she met.

While Pietro and Tony are busy enjoying a line or two of the expensive white powder, what a coincidence that Wanda is also eye-ing you. She recognizes that you are the cute one she saw in the line when she walked by. She is watching you sharply like a hawk. Just like Nat, the brunette wants you too. Her desire skyrockets just by watching how your body moves. Both Nat and Wanda are looking at you like you are their prey yet both of them don’t notice that they are looking at you at the same time.

Wanda lets out a little growl as she feels every inch of her crave you, and being high and drunk only makes her want you even more. “Vision, dear. I want her tonight.” Wanda demands without even letting her gaze off you as she points at you.

Before Vision gets the chance to respond to his wife's words, Nat interrupts. Stern was her tone when she said “No. This one is mine.” as she keeps looking at you. Pietro and Tony laugh a little at the unexpected small competition between the Russian and the Sokovian women.

Pt. 2

A/n: Welp, that's all for today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Reblog, comment and input are always appreciated. Follow me for more! See you in next!

Cheerio!

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[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Two More For Dinner." Poly!DanBert X FEM! AFAB! Reader. A Commission Post.

Hey, hey, hey! SO another batch of commissions have been started! This is first up, a lovely Poly!DanBert meeting the parents with a rushed and hushed hook up trying not to get caught all for the lovely @eggsandbeer! She paid for a 2K comm and I went above and beyond and more than doubled that because the muse took me. I took out some of the more personal details to make this a more straight reader insert for you all to enjoy! I loved doing this, so, so much fun! I hope you all enjoy it too! Thanks for waiting of course, after those last two things being 20K I needed a break but I’m fucking back with a vengence! Three more comms to go after this with one more still open spot to go! Let’s get into it now tho, shall we?!

—

Rating: Explicit. Length. 4.7K. Poly!DanBert X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Praise. Degradation. Don’t Get Caught. Hold The Moan. Oral. Biting. Marking. Hickeys. Threesome. Blow Job. Masturbation. Cunnilingus. Dirty Talk. Restrained Reader. Choking. Gagging. Face Fucking. Vaginal Sex. Cream Pie. Teasing. Multiple Orgasms. Banter.

—

They knew this.

They both knew it going into this with you, were all too aware of your situation, you talked about your family often and they were clearly very important in your life. It only made sense that when your relationship changed and pivoted from strangers to roommates to friends, to much, much more than that you’d want them to meet your family.  Even though logically they knew this would happen and come up it still didn’t stop the pair from sharing a look over the dinner table when you mentioned how your family wanted to meet and get to know your latest relationship. 

How much they’d affected you was obvious from how you spoke to how you acted, it was no wonder that they were curious. Your family liked to get together quite often so when a semi-regular dinner was on the horizon it was only natural the trio of you would be in attendance. 

Dan was relatively nervous to be honest. He really fucking liked what you had going on and your family meant something to you which meant that there was a good chance what your family thought about him and Herbert would be important to you, he didn’t want to screw this up. He was confident he would be able to keep himself in check but your shared roommate/boyfriend Herbert, he was much more nervous about. He knew far too intimately how Herbert could be, how his lack of filter could get himself and to be honest, Dan, into trouble as well as his temper. 

You were experiencing some slight unease yourself but overall you were confident that with a touch of coaching that they would do just fine. 

The week leading up to the dinner flew by too fast for Dan’s liking, what he also really didn’t like was how seemingly calm Herbert was. Friday night on their shared commute home the car was silent with the exception of the radio, Dan’s mind was whirring until he couldn’t take it anymore, he turned down the music to ask, “Hey Herbert?”

He had clearly been lost in thought, brows raised as he glanced over at Dan before fixing his eyes forward back on the road, “Yes, Dan?”

“How uh, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow?” Herbert questioned, “It’s a day off from work, I’m sure it will be a fine-”

Dan sighed, cutting him off, “That’s not what I mean and you know it! Aren’t you worried even a little about meeting her family over dinner?”

“Is that what you are referring to?” He asked with a roll of his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as he scoffed, “They are just people Daniel, maybe you should calm down.” 

Infuriating is what it was, totally infuriating but he let it go. Maybe it was a good thing Herbert wasn’t freaking out and nervous as fuck, if he was frantic it might only served to worsen how Dan was feeling. 

The next day you were the one to suggest it, turning to Dan as he was busy pouring himself a coffee, “Are you gonna help Herbert get ready?” 

He looked up and across to you, “I don’t know if I have to, he is like, weirdly calm.”

“I mean helping him with what he is wearing.” You stated and he nodded in response, “Oh thank God I was thinking the same thing, don’t worry I’m on it.” 

Herbert took offence. 

Dan was walking into Herbert’s bedroom with him in tow, “Herbert don’t fight me on this, just listen to me please-”

“I will do no such thing! I am more than capable of dressing myself Daniel, I’m not a child!” Herbert grabbed his shoulder, turning him harshly to force eye contact as they stood just in the doorway.

“I never said you were!” Dan said throwing his hands up in defence, “What I AM saying though is that you wear the same outfit day in day out like you are a goddamn cartoon character-”

“A cartoon character?!” Herbert’s mouth fell open, sheer disbelief as Dan continued on, unbothered by the interruption, “-and if every time we see her family you are in the same outfit they are going to think you are fucking nuts!”

“I have no idea how to respond to this, do you really think all of this?” He accused, arms crossed and Dan affirmed, “Not just me, she wants you to wear something different too, okay?”

“I don’t know where you got this idea that my wardrobe has no variety-” He started and Dan opened the closet doors, picking up the sleeve of one of the dress shirts holding up, “Ah yes, how can I forget, the one infamous blue shirt?”

Herbert huffed and turned, he walked to and then sat himself on the bed, “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Not a snowball's chance in hell Herbie.” He admitted with a smile as he began to flip through the clothes available. 

He grumbled about the nickname but mostly let it slide. Quiet fell over them for a moment until Herbert spoke up again. “What cartoon am I in?”

“What?” Dan asked, a turn of his head, seeing Herbert staring at him, arms still crossed and brow creased, “I…I’m far too curious, what cartoon am I supposed to be in Daniel?”

“Oh that’s easy. Scooby Doo obviously-” He said cooly, turning back to the closet, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face, “Obviously?! Scooby Door is obvious?! Who am I exactly?”

Dan came over, clothes slung over his arm, “Your one of those villains they unmask who is all like ‘and I woulda gotten away with it too if it weren’t for that damn dog and those meddling kids-’ you know?” He put on a voice when he did the quote that Dan knew if you were present would have made you laugh. He dropped the clothing next to Herbert and reached out like he was going to ruffle Herbert’s hair, he quickly smacked his hand away preventing that. 

“Yes I’ve seen it, I know! I just still cannot believe that. And who are you supposed to be? Fred Jones?” Herbert asked incredulously. 

“Even knowing his last name, I think someone’s a fan-” Dan teased. “-but obviously I’m Fred. Now get dressed, we have to leave soon.”

You were in your room and could hear the vague conversation, could hear exclamations but no actual words were reaching you. 

You were sure it was all fine. 

At least that is what you tell yourself. This was all going to be okay, it had to be. You shoved any worry or negative thought out of your head as you left your room and headed downstairs to wait for them so you could all leave. You still maintained your own room even if you wouldn’t end up sleeping in there most nights since the relationship changed, it was nice to still have a space that was all yours. As much as you loved them you needed some time to yourself on occasion. 

You were down stairs, waiting by the door, checking yourself out in the mirror near the door, you looked great, felt even better honestly. No matter how tonight went, at least you had that, at least you looked good. 

You did a small turn as you fluffed your hair up, the lines of your outfit worked beautifully on your frame. You know you looked great but you hear a small whistle coming from behind you on the stairs and you look to see Dan descending with a grin. “Well, look at you.” 

You glanced down at the black short sleeve button up, red skirt, sitting just so to accentuate your waist, and footless black sheer tights, finishing off with black heels with little ankle straps. You looked back up at him, hands out at your hips, a small pose as you asked, “You like?”

He reached the bottom of the stairs and came forward, eyes dragging up and down, you’ve seen that look plenty of times before, you knew that look and what it meant. Dan took your hands as he said sincerely, “I love.” 

“Thank you.” A small smile on your face before you asked, “Where’s our other third?” He let out an amused huff at your joke playing off the term other half in your little triad. 

“He’s finishing getting dressed, should be down soon.” His hands released yours and slid onto your hips, a squeeze and you asked, “How soon?”

“Too soon, no time for much fun which is a shame because with how you look right now-” He let out a sigh and you leaned up, one of your hands meeting the back of his neck, “I mean we can do a little somethin’-”

That was all he needed to hear before he kissed you. 

You returned it immediately. Deepening it, a soft hum against his lips and he tugged you closer, more flush against him. Your lips slid against his and they parted for you, your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him, tongue teasing into his mouth. Time always flowed too fast when his hands were on you, the same way you always got entirely too caught up in him. Seemingly too soon you hear Herbert, “Must I wear this sweater you chose-”

You and Dan broke apart, your hands still on each other as you looked up to see Herbert halfway down the stairs, soft looking navy blue sweater in one hand, his other on the railing, he leaned on it with a smile as he said. “So sorry to interrupt.” 

“No, no you're fine.” You say easily as you pull away and Dan reluctantly does the same as he answers the question as he says, “Yes it’s gonna be cold, wear the damn sweater.” He groans and you ask, “Please?” 

He complies and you thank him genuinely. 

After that you all get your respective shit together and head out the door so you won’t be late. 

The ride over is fine, quick, you arrive and take the lead, walking up with the dessert you bought yesterday to contribute to tonight’s affair. Dan and Herbert followed behind, both surprisingly quiet as you knocked on the door and you heard voices inside pitch up as footsteps approach and the door is flung open for you to be greeted by familiar faces. 

They were shocked to say the least. 

They weren’t expecting it honestly. You mentioned you were in a new relationship but they just assumed it was with one person, not two. When you came in and introduced the pair as your, “-boyfriends Herbert West and Daniel Cain-” the emphasis on the s in boyfriends caused some raised eyebrows. 

You were led away to bring dessert to the kitchen and the boys were brought into the living room and between your family members when you were all settling in hushed whispers were passed back and forth. 

“Did you know? About the uh-” Your mother started and someone followed up, “About the fact there are two of them? No!" 

"I could have sworn she said the name Herbert before." Your brother said and your step dad responded, "Did she? I heard Dan." 

They were all confused but ultimately this was a good thing right? More than one person to care for and look after you could be nothing but a good thing. 

The afternoon started off well. Drinks were gotten, snacks were provided, and talking began. Your grandmother ended up on the couch with Dan and Herbert on either side, a photo album spread out on her lap and telling embarrassing story after embarrassing story. You were seated in a nearby chair, legs crossed and nowhere near as amused as your boyfriends were. 

“So she was really into that song?” Dan asked with a laugh and your grandmother piped up, “Oh over and over and over, it was Sherry by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons till the record wore out.”

Herbert was actually smiling, eyebrows raised, “You wore the record out?”

“It warped from overplaying.” You admitted with a sigh that pulled a loud laugh from the pair. 

However it didn’t stay quite so rosy when your step dad cornered the duo. Asking some of the usual questions, one of the biggest ones of course was, “Where did you both attend school?”

They both responded with “Miskatonic university.”  

To which your step dad replied, “Oh Miskatonic?” He sucked his teeth and they both shared a look and Herbert asked, “What? Is something wrong with that?”

“No, no, Miskatonic is a fine school but it isn’t exactly Ivy League is it? Harvard, now that is a school-” He went on and Dan had to catch himself from letting out a sound of shock and Herbert tensed next to him, it took a lot of him to not say anything. 

Especially when your step dad proceeded to talk about the struggles of being a doctor, even when he wasn’t one, about how hard medical school and like was even though again he had no personal experience what-so-ever.

Dan had to have a hand on Herbert’s shoulder, a hard grip and a tight smile as he tried to listen as politely as possible and not engage. He always had a better handle on his temper than Herbert did. He was listening to your step dad talk about something totally inane and incorrect involving placing IVs when your older brother came by and added fuel to the fire. 

“Yeah medical school almost seems too easy, right dad?” He asked with a big grin. “I mean being a doctor, surgery, it almost seems laughably easy.”

When that dropped Dan knew they needed to get out of there.

They managed to slip away and find you in the kitchen helping out when they said they needed to steal you for something for a moment. You end up in another room, door closed, asking, “Fucksake what is this about? I was helping prep dinner when you pulled me away.” 

”Oh so sorry, Daniel and I were just drowning out there while you were off chopping vegetables-” Herbert started and you threw him a look, “Drowning? Herbert I know you are dramatic but please, how were you drowning?”

“Your step dad was giving us the third degree which was bad enough until your brother decided to join in.” Dan said and you turned your head up to look at him, “You too? Man I knew this would be a little stressful but to see you so rattled too Cain I’m surprised.”

“You want to know what is really throwing me off is this damn sweater you insisted upon-” Herbert tugged on the collar of it as he turned to Dan, “I don’t understand why I couldn’t have worn what I wanted to.”

“Do I have to explain the cartoon principle again?” He sighed, crossing his arms and Herbert said, “You made it perfectly clear the first time but you wear the same outfit all the time too!”

“When?” Dan asked and Herbert fired back. “At work-”

“Scrubs at the hospital don’t count!” You were watching them go back and forth and wondering what this was really about, there is no way it is what they are saying, there has to be more. You try to turn over some of the reasoning in your mind but come up empty and before you can even begin to vocalise any of these thoughts Dan is cutting off Herbert’s rant with a kiss. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, it made too much sense. This was a big, stressful thing, a test of your relationship so far, and this? An excuse and chance to blow off some steam and release some tension sounded frankly perfect. You all earned and deserved it, the boys had taken everything in stride and you could make this trip worth it. 

You are reminded of what Dan started back in the front foyer of your shared house, how he kissed you so hungrily and eagerly, hands on you so quickly. That makeout was cut tragically short, you had been left wanting and here was the perfect opportunity to pick up where you left off. 

You waste no time stepping closer and inserting yourself into what they started, your hand on Herbert’s back and you leaning up, a kiss to Dan’s neck and just like that the attention was flipped onto you. 

You were pushed until your back met the wall and you felt those two all too familiar sets of hands on you. Dan was kissing you and there was Herbert, one hand smoothing up your side as he began speaking in your ear, “Quite the little outfit you chose tonight.”

Dan broke away to contribute, “God, right? Talk about distracting, I could barely focus on a thing your mother was saying in the kitchen earlier when you were trying to get that serving dish down, skirt rode up so fucking high-” His own sentence trailed off and he kissed you again, deeper than before. It was like he needed to, as is recounting how much he almost saw, the tease of it in addition to having you right here was too much, he needed to try and satiate that hunger. 

You didn’t have much time before people would come looking for the three of you, couldn’t take as long as usual, your head was nearly swimming as Dan dropped to his knees and Herbert pressed closer. You were in a particular mood and you asked, “You know what I find funny, West?” 

“Please indulge me.” He breathed as his lips dragged over your jaw, kissing along and down to your neck. 

You arch closer with a soft sound of pleasure as you feel Dan’s hands sliding up your legs, feeling the smooth material of your tights disappearing under your skirt. 

“I find it so funny, oh, that you talk such a big game, logic this and intelligence that, but I put on a short skirt and heels, bend over just a little and you can’t contain yoursel-”

Just then his hand is on your throat. Herbert holding you to the wall, strong grip, not cutting off your air supply but certainly not letting you move, a harsh and deep kiss that does steal your breath. He feels you attempt to move closer to return it but his hand on your neck is preventing that. Next you feel Dan’s fingers hook in your tights and drag them down, his mouth nips at your inner thighs and your knees feel weak. 

Thank God for Herbert holding you into the wall as the thighs are pulled down to near your ankles and that same hot mouth presses more kisses on each inner thigh until a hard bite leaves you gasping into his mouth. Herbert pulls back with a smirk, finally responding to you, “Ha, ha, very funny indeed.” 

They had such a good habit of making you eat your words when you attempted to tease. Your panties are tugged down next, and you hear Dan from below say, “Oh she’s so wet right now, always ready, what a good girl.”

“I prefer the term slut.” Herbert hummed, “Always wet, ready and wanting.” 

Dan laid another bite down that had you tensing, inhaling sharply and Herbert pressed on, “I think we should put her to good use.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” You can feel Dan’s smile against you and you wonder just what they have in mind.

In two short minutes you are on your back. Your shirt is open, bra is halfway down, Herbert is palming one of your tits, fingers teasing one of your nipples, tugging on it in a fashion that has you arching closer. Dan is on his knees still, your thighs and panties bunched around your ankles, skirt flipped up, wet cunt exposed, your legs pushed back and his mouth sucking a hickey into your inner thigh. You were trembling, you loved how as soon as the last hickeys dissipated the pair was insistent on replacing them, all in places just for their eyes, your chest, your thighs, your hips. 

More than that Herbert had his pants open, hard cock out and stuffed in your mouth, you were looking up at him, eyes half lidded and hand moving with your mouth as you sucked, your tongue following the thick vein that ran up the underside of his shaft. It was a good thing he was, you all needed to be quiet and that was much easier to accomplish with your mouth full. 

Dan made it worse, when his tongue lathed over the bite mark, almost a small apology for the hurt but his tongue didn’t stop there, up and up until he licked a firm stripe up the middle of your slit. Your eyes squeezed shut as his tongue passed over your clit once before zeroing in on it, swirling with purpose around the sensitive bud. 

You suck harder and Herbert bit back a groan, his hand that wasn’t palming your chest threads in your hair, he thrust forward into your mouth causing you to gag slightly, “Fuck, you can do better than this, right? Focus.” 

You made a sound that could be read as a whimper around the shaft in your mouth, drool was leaking out of the corner of your mouth and you tried to work harder but Dan eating you out so well was making it hard to keep up. “So messy.” Herbert teased as he brushed some of the mess away from your mouth.

Dan was giving himself a hand as he was consuming you whole, you could feel the hot breath fanning over your soaked flesh, pace wasn’t as steady or neat as when he had his attention fully on you but it felt almost better. Knowing he was so hot and bothered, so worked up he just had to jerk himself off while tasting you.

You couldn’t even see it, eyes still closed but even if they were open there was no way from the angle you could see him with his hard cock in hand but that was fine, the thought fuels you. The sloppy technique still felt fucking incredible, you needed to hurry though, you’d almost been gone ten minutes. You would never live it down if you were caught like this. 

Your family was busy with some pre-dinner board game and they usually really got into their games, that game wouldn’t last forever though. 

The orgasm crept up quickly. The pair knew your tells way too easily, especially when one of them had a dick in your mouth, you would almost totally stop bobbing, tongue would slow down, breathing would slow and Herbert said, “Don’t stop Dan, she’s really close, aren’t you?”

That time you whimper and nod, so close, and the man between your legs hums in response and that pulls you even closer. A few more strong and firm flicks over your clit, Dan’s own hand slows in touching himself, making sure to keep it consistent, ensure your end and it works of course. 

You cum against his tongue, squirming as the pleasure sweeps over you and Herbert tugs on your hair and shoves deep as he can into your mouth making you choke down any sound that might have spilled out when you came. You gag but it doesn’t lessen how hard you cum, if anything it increases it, Herbert lets out a quiet curse of your name as you suck indulgently on the tail end of your orgasm. 

You are still shaking when Herbert gives you some relief and pulls halfway out and you feel Dan move, his mouth lifts, “Fuck you taste incredible.” He sounded out of breath and you felt him pressing against you, hot and hard, throbbing and it made your eyes shoot open and look down at him. 

His eyes are burning into yours with a question and your brows furrow with a shaky nod, you wanted it, you needed to feel him. He looked almost relieved you wanted him so much, his hands on your hips, he lines up and sinks into you with one smooth motion. The stretch makes you groan around Herbert’s dick and he pulls hard on your nipple as he shh’s you, “Shut up. Are you trying to get us caught?” 

No you weren’t, you swear, but how can you shut up when he talks like that while you are getting split open like this? How can you do anything but moan?

“You are so fucking tight.” Dan breathed, as he started to move and Herbert took over, his hand in your hair still guiding you, thrusting slowly in and out of your mouth as Dan’s hips rocked.

You had to really make yourself fight to keep quiet but Dan angled you just right and hit that sweet spot that had you groaning around Herbert and he shoved deeper to try and shut you up. It didn’t help that Dan was panting openly, fucking in harder, slight sound of skin on skin. The three of you were a truly dangerous combination. You all fed into each other, got so caught up that not losing yourselves in the rhythm and pleasure was nigh impossible. 

“Shit, not gonna last, God-” Dan’s head tips back, face a little flushed, showing off that long neck and one of his hands lifts off your hip, between your legs, thumb pressing down, messy circles rubbed into your clit and you tighten around him. 

You aren’t going to last either. 

Herbert cums first, spilling down your throat, his hand no longer on your chest, biting his palm to stop himself from moaning too loudly. You swallow him down greedily as his hips stutter until the stimulation is too much and he pulls out with a small hiss from the brief over stimulation from you still sucking. You suck down a deep breath and bite your bottom lip before a truly perfect thrust from Dan and a swirl of his thumb has you gasping out, “Oh fuck M’ gonna-”

Herbert’s hand leaves his mouth and covers yours, he tugs hard on your hair to help silence you as your cum for the second time around Dan’s hard cock stretching you open. You breathe hard through your nose as you ride out the pleasure and the hard squeeze of your walls mid-orgasm makes Dan break. 

He isn’t sure how he manages to hold it in but he cums inside of you with a shuddering exhale. The feeling of him spilling inside of you at the end of your orgasm leaves you shaking below the pair. 

You take a long minute to revel before starting to untangle. 

“Holy shit did I need that.” Dan admitted and you laughed quietly, “Right?” 

Herbert was assisting to pull your panties and tights back down as you were tugging your bra back into place and doing the buttons on your shirt back up. The panties were put back into place quickly after Dan pulled out so the cum would leak back into your own underwear instead of onto the floor, a stain that would be way too hard to explain. “How about you Herbert?”

You asked as he was fixing his pants, “Much more relaxed.” He said honestly before rolling his shoulders and then grimacing, “And much sweatier thanks to this sweater.”

Dan rolled his eyes as he did his own belt up, “I’m so sorry Herbert, okay?”

“I dunno if I can forgive you.” Herbert sighed and you sat up, arms thrown around his shoulders, a kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth as you asked, “C’mon lighten up.” 

“I’ll try.” He deadpanned and you and Dan both laughed.

You all made sure you looked fine and like you didn’t just have a threesome in the other room hushed and rushed as you slipped back out to join everyone. They were still wrapped up in the board game and dinner prep. No one noticed you were gone for around fifteen minutes. Dinner went off without a hitch and no one noticed either that you kept shifting in your seat from the mess leaking out of you. 

Well not no one, Dan and Herbert certainly did and the smiles over the table shared, the same kind that are made over a private kind of joke made you grin in kind. 

[my-tin-can-mans]

She Knows Part 2, (Wolffe x Reader)

OH BOY. First I'm sorry this took me so long I've been busy with college. But! this is the longest fic or anything really I've written so wow. Hopefully you enjoy.

Warnings: angst, mentions of Alcohol, mentions of cheating slight smut (minors do not interact or read).

Note: italics are flashbacks

“So, what do you usually do during leave?” the question threw you a little of guard. You’d been stationed with the 501st for four months now, four months since you’d broke it off with Wolffe after… everything. You had been the head medic in the 104th battalion, but quickly put in a request for a transfer after the humiliation Wolffe had put you through. The only position available was with the 501st, working under their head medic, Kix. It was a demotion sure, but honestly it took a lot of stress of your shoulders and well, anything to get away from the situation you were in.

Working with Kix almost 24/7 forced you two to grow close and form a close relationship. It was more of a brotherly/sisterly love than anything else, though others saw how well you two had worked together and insisted you would make a good couple, you both were comfortable where you were, which you were grateful for, it was nice to have a friend as kind and understanding as Kix.

Tomorrow the whole battalion would be stationed on Coruscant, the general had some jedi duties to attends to and the war was at a standstill for the moment, giving the men time to relax instead of being thrown under another general for a while.

You had been checking bacta supplies when Kix happened to spring this question on you. Freezing your hand in motion as you had begun to type up an order to restock while planet side. You’d never actually had a leave without Wolffe. Most of the time on leave was spent in that dark corner of 79’s, the other half in a hotel bed.

“Mesh’la, come on, up. I promised the men we’d meet them tonight for a round.”

“But I don’t wanna go Wolffe can’t we just stay here? The sheets are so soft and I don’t feel like wearing clothes.” You’d whined.

“I already told them we would be there, now come up before I drag you out of bed.”

“you wouldn’t,” you peeked your head out from under the covers, narrowing you eyes at him, he stood at the foot of the bed, wearing his blacks sans shirt. He himself had just untangled from you and the sheets. How he had the willpower to do so you had no clue. He dawned his famous predatory smirk on his face

“Are you questioning my word Mesh’la, because you know I always keep my word.” He took a step forward, his thighs now touching the mattress.

“of course not Wolffe,” you gave him a sweet smile, “but I bet I could change your mind.”

“oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “do tell.” He placed his hand on either side of your feet, leaning over the bed

“why don’t you come up here and find out.”

With one swift move Wolffe was on top of you now and you brought your hands to his face pulling him in and kissing him, it was rough and passionate, you really didn’t want to leave and you wanted him to know that, hoping he would see how desperate you were and decide to stay. But after a few moments he pulled back, looking down at you with that damn smirk again, “that was quite convincing.”

Before you could retort anything Wolffe had left from his position on top of you, yanking you up to your feet in the process, “but unfortunately like a said before, I am a man of my word and I already gave it to my brothers, sorry mesh’la but you’ll have to show me your negotiating skills another time, I promise ill make up for it.”

“To be honest Kix I’ve never really done much with my leave time, ya know? I just kinda destress and go out every once in a while.”

“Oh? Well do you have any plans for our first night off then? Me and a couple of the boys are gonna be at 79’s if you’d like to join.”

The mention of 79’s made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t been back there since you’d found out about Wolffe. “I don’t know Kix,” you sighed, 79’s was a clone bar, and also a favorite hangout spot for the man you had been trying to forget about.

“oh come on, you think Jesse’s a horrible flirt now, just wait till you see him drunk, you’ll be laughing so hard your stomach will be sore in the morning.”

You snorted a laugh in response, Jesse and you were also pretty close, but he was notorious for always trying out stupid pick-up lines on you, he took every opportunity he could to flirt with you, even when he had gotten injured and you were stitching him up, “you look so pretty when your concentrated.” He had said.

But the issue at hand still itched in the back of your mind, what if Wolffe was there? Going back to your holopad, typing up the order you were previously working on to make yourself seem less concerned about your next question you asked him, “the 104th isn’t on leave right now are they?”

“no I don’t think so, why?” Kix had since turned around focusing on organizing medical supplies to help you order.

“Nothing, just, ya know making sure.” You’d told Kix about what happened between you and Wolffe. Just about every clone knew you two were dating, Wolffe always had to make it known you were his. So Obviously everyone was curious as to what had happened.

He turned and looked at you, realizing what you meant, “Oh Kriff, this is your first leave without him isn’t it?”

You nodded, too afraid, after months of finally getting yourself together you didn’t want to revert back to breaking down again.

“Hey listen, if you don’t want to be there I understand. But maybe it would help ya know? We’ll all be wasted you’ll totally forget about him I promise we’ll have a good time.”

It was very convincing, you’d seen the 501stparty and 79’s before, they went hard, unlike Wolffe who was usually more private and reserved. That didn’t mean you two still didn’t have fun in your own way on leave.

Much to your dismay you’d put on a dress and Wolffe had dragged you to 79’s anyways. The second you’d stepped into the place the music and dark lighting consumed you. It was loud tonight. The 501st was celebrating a successful occupy over a separatist world and you could tell. The blue armor was spread throughout the crowd, some at the bar hitting on the women already occupying it, and some on the dance floor.

You wished Wolffe danced more with you, you loved to dance but he only ever accompanied you once, and that was after a drinking competition with Thorne who was hard to beat. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

Without a second glance to all the men, Wolffe grabbed your wrist and led you back to the booth he always sat at. Instead of the usual commanders, Sinker and Boost sat there awaiting their commanders arrival after being promised a drink with him. You slid into the booth and Wolffe sat right up against you.

He was broad so he took up most of the space, he always presented himself in such a way that he was always there, chest puffed out, shoulders broadened and head held high. When he got situated he spread his legs, taking up more space and knocked his with yours. The two of you practically sat in each other’s lap with how close you were to each other. he placed his hand on your thigh, resting just below the sundress you and reluctantly put on earlier.

It was a last resort to get him to stay in with you. It was his favorite. The first time he saw you in it he’d practically kneeled before you, although you were sure he was just trying to get a peak underneath.

Four shots were already at the table when you two had arrived and Sinker, who was sitting in front of you, had passed one your way while Wolffe grabbed his own downing it without even flinching.

As the night drove on, the men began to become tipsy and Wolffe’s hand grew higher and higher. It was when Boost was at the climax of telling you a story from before you had signed on with them that Wolffe finally breeched your center, rubbing his index finger over the already wet spot in your panties.

You jumped, not expecting him to be so bold as to touch you in front of his men. You turned to look at him but he was looking straight on at Boost, absolutely engrossed in the story he was telling. Without making eye contact he leaned over, giving you a small peck on your temple, while at the same time, he pushed you underwear over to the side and slipped a finger into you.

His face was flushed, from the alcohol or the devious act he was performing you couldn’t tell. It was probably a mix of both. Wolffe rarely showed PDA in public especially in front of him men. So you were practically in shock with what was happening right now.

You went to grab a sip of your drink while he slowly pumped his finger a few times before deciding to add another. You let out a chocking noise.

“Hey you okay?” Sinker seemed concerned at your reaction.

“Yeah, yeah just fine, drink must’ve gone down the wrong piper there” you tried to play it off.

He bought it just fine, resuming the conversation that had started up after Boost’s story. When you turned to look at Wolffe again he was wearing that shit eating grin he often dawned and maker you wanted to wipe it clean off.

When Sinker and Boost were distracted enough, Wolffe leaned into you, “come on now mesh’la, I did say I'd make it up to you, and as I recall we’ve already proved I’m a man of my words.”

“Well I guess a few drinks wouldn’t hurt.” You thought back to all the times you’d seen blue armor on the dance floor and envied the fact you hadn’t been there as well, “but I better get a couple of dances out of you guys”

Kix chuckled, “I can promise you, if you stop by for long enough those men will be fighting over who gets to dance with you next.”

You bellowed out a laugh at that. The thought of Jesse, tup and the rest fighting over you was quite the scenario. “Just comm me what time you boys are gonna be there at.”

He nodded his head in agreement, both of you chatting lightly about other topics as you finished the order.

****************************************************

The ship had landed a few hours ago, longing for a good night’s sleep you had left the barracks for the stay, packing up your necessities and checking into a hotel a few blocks out of the main traffic for some peace and quiet.

As you were getting ready for your night at 79’s Kix had sent you a comm message, letting you know they were on their way and would be arriving in 10 minutes. All you had left to do was dress yourself. You rummaged through the bag of clothes you had. It wasn’t much, mostly GAR issued scrubs and a few dresses. You heart stopped when you saw the dress though. The one that was always Wolffe’s favorite. You picked it out, holding it up so you could see the whole thing.

Kriff. This dress brought back so many memories. It almost hurt to look at it. if you were being completely honest with yourself though, you did look damn good in it. screw it you thought. Time to make better memories in it.

After you slipped the dress on you hailed an air taxi to 79’s once inside you scanned the bar, looking for the men who were going to take up your evening. You spotted them at the bar ordering drinks and from the looks of it Jesse was already on his shit and flirting with the bartender.

You walked up to them and their heads turned. Jesse let out a whistle, “Damn, look at you! If I didn’t know any better I'd say you were trying to entice me.”

Kix shook his head at that. Putting his face into his palm. Tup who happened to be standing beside Jesse elbowed him to which Jesse frowned at. “Could you not flirt with my favorite medic?” he turned to you, “you look nice by the way, but not in a creepy I want to get with you way like he meant.”

You let out a giggle. You were already having a great time and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes. You took a seat at the bar between Kix and Jesse, Tup to the other side of him.

As the night ticked by you happened to get pretty tipsy, never getting truly drunk for fear you couldn’t make it back to your hotel safely. The men held their alcohol well though and although they were drinking twice as much, they were probably the same level intoxicated as you were. You all stayed at the bar, cracking jokes and telling insane stories, often Jesse would flirt with you or the bartender but it wasn’t too much and you both welcomed the light heartedness attention he gave.

An hour in you heard a voice behind you, “Hope I didn’t miss too much.” You swiveled in the bar seat, turning around to be face to face with the captain of the 501st.

“Captain!” Kix exclaimed, “what took you so long?”

“Sorry boys had a few reports I needed to fill out before the night ended.”

“Well, were glad you here now.” You said.

You got up to give the captain a hug. Something you defiantly wouldn’t do sober, but the alcohol had given you a little confidence. Rex looked surprised by the affection but embraced you anyways. He leaned down and you put your chin over his shoulder patting him on the back staying like that for a second.

It was then that you wished you hadn’t hugged Rex, hadn’t drank as much to give you a confidence boost, and hadn’t stepped a foot in this maker forsaken bar again.

He sat there, in the seat he always sat in when he came here. Only this time he wasn’t with any of his troopers or the other commanders. This time he was with another girl. She was a purple Twi'lek and she was drop dead gorgeous. And the dress she was wearing, or lack thereof because of how tiny it was , made you look like you had just picked yours straight out of the garbage. And you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was that her?

“Kriff Wolffe, what the actual Kriff!” you screamed, you didn’t care about the other guests in the hotel, you were so mad you were practically seeing stars.

“I'm sorry mesh’la I'm sorry I'm so so sorry.”

“No. No! don’t you dare call me that right now. I can’t – I don’t even have words for you right now.”

“please, please let me explain,”

You whipped you head around to him, seeing a whole new layer of red. “Explain? What is there to explain Wolffe. You cheated on me then proceeded to not tell me while apparently everyone else knew and I found out through one of your brothers! Isn’t that enough of an explanation.”

You sat down on the bed, head in hands. He kneeled down in front of your feet. Placing his hands atop of your knees. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. You slapped his hands off you, the thought of him touching you after another woman practically revolted you.

“you already said that.”

“I know, and I mean it I am, it was a mistake, I- if I could take it back I would, Maker I- I hate myself for letting it happen.”

“you should hate yourself.”

“I do, I do. Please, tell me what I can do to make this better.”

For a man who was supposed to be well tactical he kept making all the wrong moves.

“Wolffe there is no making this better. What’s done is done and now it's time to move on.” you finally made your decision, after debating back and forth in the air cab on how to react.

“Yes of course let’s move on, it was in the past but I love you Mesh’la I want you that’s all.”

Kriff that’s not what you meant. “No Wolffe, I mean I’m moving on. from you. I- I can’t continue to be with someone who has done what you’ve done. It's- it's not fair to me.”

By this point tears were strolling down your face. You turned your head to wipe them, not wanting him to see how much he had broke you. “no, no please I- I love you please we can fix this we can work this out please just stay I- I need you.”

“I love you too Wolffe, but there is no fixing this. I loved you so much that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I gave you everything thing, I gave you all of me and you took that and you stomped on it, you might as well of placed my heart in a dumpster and set it on fire.”

He put his head in your lap. A single tear rolling down his face. “please, please don’t go, I'm so sorry.”

“I know Wolffe. But I can’t accept your apology.”

Your head was pounding. He wasn’t supposed to be on Coruscant right now. Kix had said so himself. You pulled back from Rex. He placed his hands on your shoulders his face blocking the view of him. He smiled warmly but his expression quickly changed when he saw yours.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost” he joked.

But you facial expression didn’t lighten, in fact it only got worse. With every waking second, every harsh beat of whatever hit song was playing over the speakers you drew yourself inwards more and more.

“hey hey what wrong?” Kix had left his seat at the bar quickly coming to your side. Him and Rex both dawned a look of concern.

“You said he wouldn’t be here.” You turned to Kix, channeling you emotions onto him.

He looked confused at first, but the realization hit him and he turned his head to look over Rex’s shoulder. Rex followed his line of vision and they both saw him. Sitting there in the booth, while the woman clung to him, practically in his lap.

She was kissing his neck, which honestly surprised you, Wolffe was never one for public displays of affection. Or maybe that was just with you. Because he seemed to be enjoying this.

Rex turned around to face you again, a look of panic and empathy on his face, “Kriff I'm so sorry I- he was on a solo mission with General Koon and they’re stationed here for the night so I told him I’d be here. I'm so sorry, it was an honest mistake.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that from a man in this room.

You felt like the whole room was spinning, be that the alcohol or the nervousness and upset that came with seeing him again you weren’t sure. All the men you had come here with were suddenly surrounding you with sympathetic looks and it felt like someone had placed a spotlight on you and you just wanted it to go away.

This night was meant to help you forget him, be happy and have fun with your new assigned battalion. Kriff was the so much to ask for!

“hey hey come on now,” Jesse finally broke the silence, “forget about him! If I remember correctly I promised you a dance earlier?”

This made you finally break out of your trance. You needed a distraction, and had been waiting for someone to dance with all night.

“actually I would love to Jesse.”

“right this way then”

He held out his hand for you and took you to the dance floor. The song that was playing was loud and upbeat, you and Jesse moved together to the beat, it was fun and you really enjoyed it, when the beat of the song dropped everyone on the dance floor was jumping to it, you and Jesse did the same

When the song stopped, you were practically out of breath, you let out a laugh of relief, actually feeling a little better. You looked up are Jesse and he was smiling at you.

“Feeling better, huh?” he asked.

“A little, thank you.”

A few second later another song had come on. This time it was more slow, the partners on the dance floor started to grab each other.

Jesse grabbed your waist. “Come on huh? let’s give that son of a blaster something to look at, plus this might be the only time I get to be this close to you, despite my attempts” he smirked at you.

You nodded your head, letting out a giggle at his lame excuse to flirt with you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer, your chest practically touching his. And finally you both started to sway to the beat.

A few seconds in Jesse started rubbing his thumbs on your hips, trying to calm your nerves, and it worked. Caught up in the music you started to lightly grind your hips into his, although it was soft guarded by his armor, he still took notice to it. smirking at you and grinding in time with you. His hands started to rise, growing closer and closer to under your breasts, but never reaching, knowing he would be crossing a line, and although Jesse was a flirt, his last intention was to make anyone uncomfortable.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breathe on your skin, and his nose rubbing up and down. He placed a soft his on your shoulder and the next thing you knew you were being turned around. His hand were back on your waits, but his cheat was now pressed up against your back. He gave you a harsh grind into your ass and you gasped. His arms now wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly tight into him. His head resumed its spot into your neck.

“is this okay,” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah.” You breathed. He kissed you neck this time. but it was just one short one, it was slow, and hot, you closed your eyes. he placed them all the way up your neck, all the way up to your jaw. All the way close to your mouth, and he whispered again, is this okay.

You nodded your head, eyes still closed and you turned you head towards him a little encouraging him. And his lips met yours.

You hadn’t kissed very many people. Wolffe giving you the majority of your experience. and although they were clones, they felt completely different. When Wolffe used to kiss you he practically stole your breath, he put everything he had into kissing you, and it was almost always hot and it made your insides flip, no matter how many times he kissed you, you always felt dizzy and perfectly happy, like his kissed could cure any problemed you had. To say Jesse was a bad kisser would be a lie, it was a good kiss, but it almost made you feel the opposite, all you could think about was Wolffe.

And when the song ended and you opened your eyes you were facing him again. Him. And he was sitting there with his lounge practically down the woman’s throat. And it hurt, hurt to know that he didn’t even acknowledge you. Hadn’t even cared that the person he once begged to stay with was with someone else now. Even though you weren’t actually. It hurt that he used to kiss you like that and now he was kissing someone else like that.

you weren’t sure if it was the beginning of the next song, or if your head was going fuzzy, but all you could hear was ringing in your ears. Jesse had unwrapped his hands from around you and the moment he did you sprang towards the doors of 79’s.

you heard the faint sounds of Jesse, rex and Kix calling out for you but you couldn’t be bothered to hear what any of them had to say. You left the building and walked a few blocks. Finally coming across an empty alley. You pressed you back against the cool metal of the building you were beside and let out a breathe. The air was cool and crisp against your skin, but it felt good.

After all the time you spent forgetting about him you were practically back at square one. And it pissed you off. How dare he have this effect on you.

You let out a sigh, gathering your emotions. And when you finally felt calm enough you went to comm Kix, letting him know you’d be going back to your hotel for the rest of the night, but you were interrupted.

“Mesh’la.”

ending notes: soooo, im not sure if im gonna do another part on this or not, i have some ideas for other fics but im kinda cramped on time at the moment so we shall see.

Tags

@fandom-garbage @dionysuskid21

[phoenixyfriend]

If you're still doing the ask meme, 156/170 for Rexwalker, Codiwan(?), Disaster Lineage, or Quinlan Vos with any of the Disaster Lineage?

 390 Prompts!!!!

156. “I’m like 20% sure this plan will work. The other 80% means we could die horribly and violently, but honestly it’s a really solid plan.”

170. “I’m sorry, run that by me again.”

-------

Rex holds up a hand, closes his eyes, and breathes deep. General Skywalker’s still looking at him, probably.

“Okay,” Rex says, opening his eyes again. “That’s... I’m sorry, run that by me again.”

“I’m not your commanding officer anymore and was hoping I could take you on a date?”

“Yeah, that’s--that’s what I thought you said,” Rex manages. “Sir--”

“You don’t have to call me that anymore, Rex, the war’s over and--”

“Sir, you’re married.”

The General has the audacity to smile at him, an almost pitying amusement in the expression. He holds up a comm. “Padme’s encouraging it, but we could give her a call if you want proof.”

That... does change some things.

Rex runs a hand over his face, grimacing. “Just... just give me a second.”

“You can say no,” Anakin tells him, almost too gently. “Seriously, no hard feelings.”

“Sir, with all due respect, please shut the fuck up.”

“Noted.”

Rex tries to get his thoughts in order. It’s a little difficult. Anakin waits, obligingly silent.

“You’re married, with kids,” Rex says. “And a Jedi.”

“Eh, half a Jedi,” Anakin dismisses. “Running missions doesn’t mean I have my role back after coming clean with the marriage. I’m like... Jedi-adjacent. Like I still technically work for the Order, but I think I’m classified as a civilian consultant or something? I dunno, Obi-Wan said he’d handle the paperwork and then kicked me out of the room because Master Vos was trying to get his pants off.”

“I--no, I didn’t need to know that,” Rex says.

“I don’t think it was for sex, if that helps?”

“It doesn’t. I don’t--if it involves Vos, just don’t tell me.”

“Alright.”

“Right. My point was that you won’t have time for another relationship,” Rex points out. “Twin infants and missions and--and a padawan, if Ahsoka’s choosing you over coming back to the Temple.”

“And Ahsoka’s going to be coming with me on those missions, and we were both hoping to ask you to stick around and keep working with us,” Anakin says. He smiles, charming and sincere. “As equals, this time.”

“And if I wanted to retire?”

“Then we probably wouldn’t have time for a romance between the rest of my life, and we could just stay friends who comm each other a lot,” Anakin says. He tucks his hands behind his back, but there’s just enough of a twitch to his shoulders visible through the black leather to tell Rex that the man is fidgeting. “I’m not... I’ve already done one romance where neither of us had enough time. You’re right that, with the twins, it’s only going to be harder, even if there isn’t a war eating up all my time anymore. But on the off-chance that you want to keep working with me, and that you like me back in that way, I want to give it a shot. Hyperspace isn’t exactly romantic, but it’s time together.”

All of these are solid points.

Rex just... doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Do you want me to give you a mo--”

“I’ve spent the past three and a half years trying not to get my hopes up,” Rex admits, spitting the words out before he can lose his nerve. “And I mostly succeeded. And now you’re telling me you’re actually interested and not just as a hookup, but as an actual relationship.”

Anakin beams, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, I do, now that it’s not weirdly terrible power dynamics. So is that a yes?”

“Yes, Si--Anakin. Yes, Anakin, I’d like to go on a date with you, and possibly with Senator Amidala if that’s going to be part of... whatever it is that you’re proposing.”

“We can figure it out,” Anakin promises, and in a movement just slightly too fast to be human, darts over to where Rex is and grabs his hands. The way he swings their hands is almost childish, but Rex finds it endearing. It’s an easy contact, and he isn’t sure if Anakin’s deliberately making it as non-aggressive as possible, but he thinks it’s likely. If it’s intentional, it’s very sweet for him to try this hard not to put any pressure on Rex. “So, how do feel about tomorrow?”

“Is there something wrong with tonight?”

“Padme has to stay late at the Senate so I’m watching the twins,” Anakin says, with an oddly careless shrug. “So unless you want a first date to include babies spitting up on your shoulder, I’d go with tomorrow.”

Rex blinks, and then says, “I mean, maybe not a date, then. That wouldn’t be any different than just visiting you on a normal afternoon.”

Anakin stops swinging their hands. “So... you’re saying you want to babysit tonight?”

Rex separates their hands and grips Anakin’s face between his palms, pulling him down. “Anakin. Yes. I am hanging out with you and your adorable, smelly noise machines tonight, and we’re doing a date tomorrow, and the day after that will probably be half the GAR spamming both of us on all comms to tease us.”

“And then we can kiss?” Anakin asks, with a voice that implies he’s never had such a thing before, rather than being four years married and a father of two.

He can’t help but roll his eyes. He pulls Anakin down and in, presses their lips together and tilts just a little to--ah, there. That feels right.

Anakin is a very expressive, very tactile person who melts into him, wraps his arms around, steps in and adds some tongue and wow this man moves fast.

Well.

Rex digs the fingers of one hand into Anakin’s hair lets the other drift down to settle on a leather-clad hip, and settles into the deepening kiss, laughing when Anakin tries to get somehow closer.

The situation could be much worse than a long-term crush wanting to move straight from ‘absolutely no pressure, but you wanna go on a date?’ to ‘let’s make out in a private room’ in under ten minutes.

Mm. Yeah. Yeah, this is gonna work.

[ddarker-dreams]

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  

So he’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 

“Why do you like me so much?” 

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

“... Alright, I won’t.” 

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 

[giggles-and-freckles]

SO EXCITED you’re taking whump prompts ahhh!! Maybe a damp towel against flushed, feverish skin or being picked up?

I am sorry, people–I know that you didn’t sign up for full-length one-shots when you opted for “PROMPTS,” but...how am I supposed to just stop writing Baby Ahsoka and Padawan Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan sat up with a start, snapping his head around the room. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but hour six of staring at the same ridiculous texts of ancient Jedi prophecies had pushed him over the edge. He only hoped Qui-Gon would remember that the mindless research was on his request when Obi-Wan passed out in the training room tomorrow.

Ah-choo!

Obi-Wan’s gaze flickered quickly around the room again. He knew he heard something that time. But every corner of the room aside from his small desk was pitch dark. The archives had long been abandoned by every sane being hours ago. So where did that sound–

His attention was ripped behind him at the sound of a small, broken cough.

“What on–,” Obi-Wan shook his head, blinking. ”Er, hello.”

Big blue eyes widened in response. “Um.”

Obi-Wan quirked a suspicious eyebrow. “It’s a little late for younglings to be digging through the archives.”

“You’re not even that much older than me,” the tiny Togruta said with a heavy roll of her eyes.

The Jedi snorted. He absolutely was older than her. Twenty years, at least, by the looks of it.

“All right,” he said, diplomatically. “I’m here researching ancient prophecies. What’s your excuse?” He challenged her easily.

Her arms fell from their defiant state folded across her chest and hung limply at her sides as she deflated. “Uh, well–I…”

“As expected,” Obi-Wan barely managed not to roll his eyes. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the creche.”

She frowned in disgust. “I don’t need you to take me back. I can navigate the Temple on my own, thank you. I am six, y’know.”

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so?” he gasped, a dramatic hand to his chest. “My apologies for the insinuation, wise one.”

The youngling hesitated, seeming to teeter between deciding whether he was being serious or sarcastic. She ended on the former and grinned in response at the title. “Quite all right, youngling.”

Why, that little–

“I’m here on important business, but it’s very very confidential. Top-secret. The most exclusive–” Her words came out garbled and choppy, a result of her missing two front teeth. “If you don’t tell anyone you saw me here, I’ll even promise not to snitch on you for breaking curfew,” she smiled self-importantly.

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped at the nerve. “Breaking...snitch–what?” He frowned. “Listen here, little one. I don’t know what rules you’re following, but they’re certainly not the rules that governed me when I was a youngling–many, many years ago,” he added the last statement with a hard glare toward the small Togruta.

She stared at him for several silent moments and Obi-Wan would have given a great many things to have insight in her thoughts at that time, but before he could say or do anything–

“Youngling!” Obi-Wan rushed to her, kneeling beside her small form, crumpled on the floor. “Are you...okay?”

His knowledge on healing was admittedly limited, but the Togruta suddenly shivering on the floor was absolutely not okay. Out of seemingly nowhere, she’d just...dropped. Her lip quivered with every shake and Obi-Wan was filled with painful compassion. He should have known something was wrong; she’d been sneezing and coughing since she’d walked in here.

“Little one,” he repeated, placing a tentative hand on her small shoulder. “I want to help you, but you have to help me, too, okay?”

She nodded weakly.

“What’s your name?”

“Ah–” A painful sneeze. “Ahsoka.” She shut her eyes tight.

“Okay, Ahsoka,” he nodded, trying to channel as much peace through his touch as he could. This was not the time to lose control, but here he was, a blubbering fool as this youngling lay helpless in front of him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? What hurts?”

“Head,” she muttered. “Tummy. Arms. Feet.”

“It all hurts?”

“Gonna die,” she sighed, even while shivering.

If he wasn’t so scared she was right, he may have laughed at her ridiculous dramatics.

“You’re not going to die, Ahsoka,” he assured her, ruefully, laying the back of his hand across her forehead. “But you do have a fever.”

Obi-Wan frowned, looking around the room. There was no medical supplies nearby, and Master Nu had gone to her quarters hours ago. He could comm Qui-Gon, but he wasn’t sure how kindly his master would take to being woken for this.

He wasn’t even sure what this was. Obi-Wan didn’t even like kids; they were annoying, loud, and absolute menaces. But...as he looked at the trembling girl on the floor in front of him, his heart softened the tiniest bit. She didn’t seem so bad, this Ahsoka. Mischievous, for sure. Not someone Obi-Wan would have gravitated toward during his days in the creche at all. But she was...funny. Quick-witted. And–

Painfully adorable.

“All right, young one, I’m going to need you to stand back up so I can get you to a healer. Can you do that for me?”

She grimaced at the request, but made an effort to stand anyway. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but respect her determination. His hand caught under one of her arms and he hoisted her up to her feet, moving to let go, but she gripped the material of his trousers and collapsed into his leg.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “All right, then.”

He tried to step forward, but her arms only snaked around his leg, successfully anchoring his foot to the floor. His reflexes were the only thing to keep him from tripping over himself and collapsing.

“Ahsoka,” he sighed. “You have to walk...and let me walk...if you want to get better.”

“My legs are achy,” she whimpered, looking up at him with those big, blue aggravatingly commanding eyes. What could he possibly say to that except–

“Okay.” He scooped her up into his arms and began the jaunt to the Halls of Healing.

Ahsoka smiled at him briefly, her toothless grin shooting straight into his heart, before nestling her head into the crook of his neck. Once again, he was taken aback by how very warm she was.

“We’re going to make a pit stop,” Obi-Wan told her, quickly ducking into a ‘fresher off the side hall. Balancing the girl in one arm, he made a pathetic attempt to rip off paper towels, groaning in frustration until an entire towel roll from the other side of the room came barreling into his chest. He looked down at it in surprise before hearing a tiny giggle.

“Did you just–” He shook his head in half-hearted chastisement. “That’s not proper use of the Force, little one.”

“I was helping you, so it’s allowed.”

“That’s not how–” He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. He wasn’t about to pick a fight with a six-year-old. Finally, he managed to run the towels under running water and folded them into a neat square. Still struggling to balance the youngling, he placed it on her forehead. 

She jumped at the cold sensation, but leaned into it, letting her head drop entirely into his hand. He couldn’t stop being amazed at the fact that her entire head practically fit in his hand. 

“Better?”

She sighed happily. “I’m healed,” she croaked, before spazzing into a sneeze.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes with a snort. “Sounds like it.”

“No healers,” she insisted, even as her body shook again. “Medicine is gross.”

“You need proper care, little one.”

Ahsoka wrapped her hands around Obi-Wan’s, guiding him to keep the towel on her forehead as she curled back into his neck. He didn’t understand why she didn’t just take the towel and do it herself, but who was he to question the inner workings of a crecheling.

“No medicine,” she whispered, shivering against him. “Just need you.”

[little-nightmare-gt]

Finding Family

Probably the one and only SMP Minecraft fic I'll make.... probably. Join us with Tommy and Tubbo, two borrowers living out in the wilds. Borrowers, Fae etc. Creatures are rare and sought after by wealthy people. Giants (Humans and some Hybrids) are considered monsters to borrowers, and often feared. Comms are a thing for everyone. @baka-monarch you wanted to be tagged.

Warning: Abandonment, blood, implied burning, growth in small areas, near death experience, near crushed experience, Technoblade.

Tommy and Tubbo weren't bad kids, they were young with no parents. They were taught the rules by strangers who abandoned them the moment they could borrow.

They were born in captivity and sold to a rich child with a fascination with hurting things, if by Tommy's missing wings and Tubbo's scared face had anything to do with it.

People didn't stay with them for long.

Tommy was always too loud and Tubbo too easy, and they only stuck together.

They were a bit upset at being alone but both deemed to not need anyone else.

The two decided to leave and find another place to live, somewhere not many monsters dare to go. The Artic.

Tubbo built their first house, near a tree close but not part of the forest. Tommy began the underground gardening system which Tubbo ended up making it automatic, but continued to make touches and railroad tracks into caves and mines.

They hunted rabbits in the area for meat, and often take from the near by village.

One day though, Tubbo noticed an abandoned cottage near the village and quickly messaged Tommy about it, who immediately agreed to scoping it out for a hideout.

After gathering their supplies for the day, they went to explore the cottage.

There was a small enough crack in the door frame the the two borrowers to slip into. They froze at the large still warm room.

It wasn't dusty, so it couldn't be more than a few days that someone had been there. Tommy was a bit confused about it seeing as he would have noticed someone pass through here.

Tubbo pointed out that they lived near a forest and most people avoid them, but froze at the sound of a clatter.

Tubbo, with the better ears could hear aggressive whispering, "Someone is in my house Phil, the door didn't open, where are they?"

Tubbo nodded to his friend and pulled him closer to the counter and skimmed closer to the wall, taking out his hook, he and Tommy climbed up the counter at his urging.

Tommy made it first seeing three of their kind, "Sup Bitches!"

Tubbo made it up in time to see three grown men jump in fear, examining each one as Tommy talked.

The tallest looked to be a piglin Hybrid, the smaller usually stay in the Nether where their known about and treated equally. He wore a surprisingly nice long sleeve blue shirt and cloak.

The next looked human but his features suggest he's a piglin as well...just more human looking. He wore a similar cloak and shirt and the tall one.

The final man was shorter than Tommy, he had wings which was surprising in itself. That he still kept them after all, he wore a similar shirt but instead of a cloak he was a ponch and a bucket hat. What startled Tubbo, was that he seemed to be studying them like he was them.

There eyes met briefly as Tommy waved his arm in front of him sounding heated, causing him to tone in.

"I'm calling as I see it! The old man's gonna get it if he doesn't stop staring at my friend!"

"For someone so small, why are you so loud? Don't call us pets!" The middle one growled out.

"Where's the monster of this place anyway, we've never noticed anyone coming to and from here." Tubbo interrupted.

He watched the tallest flinch as the shortest puffed up angrily ready to defend their owner when Tommy interrupted, "Tubs, they could be one of those people."

Tubbo flinched, and looked at the older men, "Surely Not, Big Man, something is off about them but we can leave if you want."

"What! After you insult us! What kinds of people!?"

"Monster apologists, their pets who do anything for their Master. Even capture more of our kind, we've been here to long, let's go." Tommy led the way, leaving the shocked men on their counter top.

Tubbo stares at them, "Do you not have a rope to climb down? I didn't see and ledges and stuff to move around on."

The shortest still glared but it soften a bit, "I can get us down, where do you live? Can we visit?"

Tubbo looked down at Tommy as his friend shook his head no, "We'll visit you."

The kid jumped, catching the rope instead of plummeting to his doom. The three men looked over the ledge with eyes in shock as Tubbo pulled his hook down.

Tommy grinned up, "Have fun with your Monster folks!"

His friend yanked him along as the middle one made offended noises, something not sitting right as they squeezed through the door and made their way home.

"Tommy, I think they were in captivity. They didn't know how to react to us and two of them were piglin Hybrids, they probably got sold."

"Poor blokes, we'll visit them tomorrow, I'll apologize to them too." He didn't want to, but even he was a victim of only knowing monsters.

Tubbo began to start dinner, it becoming darker and darker outside.

========

The snow beginning to pick up, Tommy was working on his stone sword when someone knocked on the door.

Tubbo had a hunch on who it was.

He was correct when three familiar faces were shown shocked at the sight of them, "If you're coming in, please hurry."

Tommy shut the door with a knowing look as the grown men inspected their home, "So you two live alone? How old are you seven?"

Tubbo could hear the concern but Tommy huffed, "We are fifteen thank you very much! What about you old people? Huh? Ancient?"

"Well let's introduce ourselves huh? I'm Wilbur, I'm the very charismatic of the bunch. My brother here is Technoblade, he's the fighter. Here's the old man, Philza or Phil."

Tubbo can just feel Tommy roll his eyes, "I'm Tommy the handsomest in the whole land and the biggest man, and over there is Tubbo, he is my best friend and brother. Wilbur, your names shit, I hope you know that."

Tubbo continued to say nothing as he finished making dinner and Tommy continued, "So, how did you end up in a mon-"

"Before you finish that sentence, Mate? What monster and why do you call him that?" The newly dubbed Phil asked.

Tubbo answered as he approached, "That's what our kind call big folk, you know, giants? Human and Hybrids? They're monsters, all of them."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, "How about size shifters? Reckoned they're good."

Tommy tilted his head, "Haven't met one that wanted to shrink to our size, seen a few go Titanic but they tried to kill everyone."

Tubbo might have been the only one to see the oldest man frown a bit before smiling, "How about you two show us how to survive, like without the big folk."

Tommy caught on to the fact he didn't say Monster but said nothing, "Don't know, you three are pets-"

"We are not pets!" Technoblade finally spoke, his eyes peering down at Tommy and him being unfazed.

Tubbo sighed, he honestly didn't know what to think about the implications he was getting but no harm in being prepared, to bad this was the last time he'd think on it.

For a moment, the other teen seem to contemplate it.

Tommy's face finally grew Stony, "Nope, you're better off as pets or being self taught. You can spend the night but leave after."

Unfortunately, years of being abandoned is still a fresh wound.

Wilbur tried reasoning, "You're the only ones we've met like us! We've no idea how to do things on our own! Also if we run away-"

"You'll lead your monster straight to us and get us all caught, I'm not risking our lives like that." It was rare that Tommy put his foot down, but even rarer for Tubbo to object.

"If we don't, they could still tell their Monster where we are." Tommy looked shocked but resigned.

Technoblade looking a bit uncomfortable before speaking again, "He wouldn't bother you even if he did know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Riiiight."

====An image of drawn on wings appears on Tommy's back and tears on Tubbo's face.====

It started off slow, teaching basics of climbing and mending clothes first. Technoblade was great at mending, nearly on par with Tubbo. And he and Wilbur both Excell at climbing. Philza was actually on par with Tubbo for mending and pretty decent at climbing without rope, though he had wings he referred to it as handicapping himself.

They were decent in keeping up with Tommy and Tubbo themselves, but the two found that they were better fighters.

Now the teens needed fighting lessons, though the sneaking and stealing was the difficult part.

It's kinda insulting for these grown men to ask for help and not need it, and Tommy let them know.

They were sheepish as Tubbo led Techno to the farm, they bonded over the automatic farm he and Tommy created. Technoblade suggested and easier way to do it but Tubbo shook his head sadly.

"Mobs love going after our kind, not Endermen, even when we look them in the eye. But other mobs will Hunt us down. We try not to dig that deep, and avoid getting Iron ores...not that we can use them." Understanding reached the older Hybrid's eyes as Tubbo led him away.

It had been two weeks after that conversation that Tubbo finally let them see his horns, rubbing at them as they matured and needed a day.

Philza remain with him as Tommy took Techno and Wilbur hunting with him.

The elder man asking the hard questions as he made the child some tea, "Tell me, how did you get your...wounds."

Tubbo flinched and backed away from Phil before taking a deep breath, "Tommy and I...we were born and raised in captivity, we got sold to be a child's pets. They hurt Tommy so bad, then they tried to set me on fire with a torch...their mother stopped them before they touched me. But they believed me and Tommy were too...broken. so we were thrown out.

"More of our kind found us, but after teaching us what we know they left us. It's why we live outside instead of in the walls of a Monster's house...Tommy was too loud and I was too dumb to leave him."

Phil looked on the verge of tears, "You're not dumb, you're pretty wise for your age."

Before dozing off Tubbo managed to speak again, "No choice when you and yer friend are alone."

In the month, Tommy managed to let slip that he used to have wings and broke down in Tubbo's arms as the adults looked on in horror.

A child, ripping off his wings just because he asked them for an hour of rest. Then proceeded to play with said wings, nobody said anything as Phil flutted his own wings and occasionally covered the two children like a shield.

====The Next Month====

Tubbo laughed as Wilbur and Tommy shouted at each other about the best way to hunt. Phil would disappear once a week before returning with soft material for clothes, but Technoblade.

Technoblade was acting peculiar and even Tommy noticed, the two would ask if he were okay but he would nod and shoo them off.

The piglin Hybrid had been looking uncomfortable for the past few days, Phil and Wilbur seem to be waiting for something while Tubbo tried everything in his power to make him comfortable.

Tommy was concerned, not that he would show but got the material for Tubbo's gift to the older men.

For Philza, Tubbo made another ornament for his hat, a bee and raccoon.

For Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo managed to have enough redstone for a music room. Tommy himself listen to Will play the most.

Tubbo was nervous about his gift to Techno, as Tommy gifted him a stone axe with self made design.

Tubbo, still focused on the Hybrid's discomfort, made his a pillow that looked like a ravanger. He gave a toothy grin and hugged the kid, keeping it close as he dozed off.

Tubbo will deny his tail ever wagging.

It wasn't until the next morning things made sense and seemed...bad.

Tubbo's horns hurt as Techno himself grunted in his discomfort, so they couldn't get things done.

Wilbur and Tommy got into another argument but this time about borrowing iron from the village which Phil helped Wilbur understand why not.

They were due for another hunting trip but with Technoblade and Tubbo out of commission, Phil had to go with them despite not wanting to leave the two.

Technoblade decided to stay on the couch instead of his newly added room and Tubbo remained near in case neither could handle the stairs.

When Tubbo blinked awake, it was to the noise of rushing wind and screams.

The ground shook under him as the house quaked, Pillagers

Tubbo quickly crawled over to Techno, too dizzy to stand and a shock went through his body.

The piglin Hybrid was much larger than their little couch that he slept on, Tubbo could place two hands on the older Hybrid's face and attempted to awake him.

"T..ech..no, we need to move, please wake up." Just as Tubbo stuttered that out, a booted foot came through the borrower's home, a pained and fearful cry escaped him as he missed a single red eye open.

Something wrapped around his waist, startling him as he looked up fearful at Techno.

The Hybrid looked pained as he began to expand higher through the ceiling, Tubbo watched in horrified fascination as the hand he was in curled closer to an eye.

"Tubbo, you know me, you know I'd never hurt you. Please hold on to me, I don't want you getting hurt." Tubbo's body went on autopilot as the hand was brought closer to the mon- the neck of Technoblade.

Tubbo held on as the body finally broke through the house, shielding him from danger.

A gleam brought Tubbo to attention, a light blue axe appeared in the giant's hand shimmering with unspoken enchantments. Tubbo had only heard of diamonds before, he was not disappointed.

Technoblade slashed through all his enemies, all the while keeping an eye and ear on Tubbo.

The beat of large wings alerted Tubbo to another person, Philza. The oldest coming from the air like an Angel of Death.

Tubbo could make out two people against his own throat, Tommy and Wilbur.

Unfortunately Phil didn't catch sight of him and the borrower was being grabbed in a tight fist, "Come on Mate! You're not prepared enough for this."

Technoblade's ear twitched and the scared pain Yelp, "Philza! Let go! You have Tubbo!"

The crushing weight was immediately gone as the kid took deep breaths barely hearing Techno's instructions, "Tubbo, I'm going to have to fight my way through. Hold on the best you can."

As that was said, the older hybrid began to lurch forward. Tubbo caught glimpses of Phil fighting alongside, but his focus was on not falling.

Not being ripped away wasn't part of this, a small glowing Fae creature tackled Tubbo and flew him away.

========

Tommy watched as his best friend got carried away by a Vex, "TUBBO!"

Wilbur flinched at the volume and Phil slightly stiffen but didn't falter in his fighting, Technoblade visibly looked around when it happened.

The small army was thinning down as the two watched out for the vex with the ram Hybrid, carefully taking out other vexes that went for Tommy or Wilbur.

Techno knew there was one left as bodies turned to emeralds, but the snow began to become blinding and Tubbo's scent getting fainter.

Phil had to physically drag him to the cabin, Wilbur had grew to his full size and started a fire and proceeded to hold Tommy.

Who was using all his energy in fighting Wilbur's hand, "I have to find Tubbo! Wilbur let go!"

The small being froze as Techno and Phil entered the space, "Don't worry Tommy, we'll find him. But we'll be useless in this weather."

Phil attempted to comfort, suddenly feeling too large compared to the child. The man can barely see his facial features, but even he could tell that he was terrified.

The silence was thick and tension high and the broken voice to an all too small child spoke up, "So... this is it? You...you really got us to trust you-"

Wilbur knew where this was going, "Tommy, Tommy no-*

"You shithead's are really fucked up! What next? Am I a pet? Did you honestly sell Tubbo!?" Tommy continued, the only one about to tell he's crying was Wilbur.

Techno didn't say anything as Tommy yelled, guilt too strong in his gut. He slowly turned to the window, the snow falling harshly as Tubbo got farther and farther.

They were getting Tubbo back.

========

Tubbo wasn't feeling well, his head throbbed because of his horns and he was cold. His cagemate wasn't much better so he can't complain.

Enderfae were quite rare on the market, Tubbo had only met one that he called The Captain. Well sorta, he was of Dragon variety.

Tubbo doesn't like to think what happened to him.

The Enderfae was crying, as the Pillager added their cage to his wall. A pillager outpost.

"HHey, it'll be okay, I'll find a way out of this. My... family will come for us." Tubbo tried to soothe knowing that he was making empty promises.

"Its okay, I've come to terms with this the moment I got captured. I hope my friends are okay. My name's Ranboo."

"I'm Tubbo."

========

The cabin was dark, Wilbur slept curled around a pillow which held a borrower.

A borrower who's trust they destroyed...one of two.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the tear stains down his face. Filling the larger three with guilt, sympathy, and rage.

Technoblade added more Regen and Health Potions to his pack, his old red cloak was taken from the closet and put on. A large netherite axe lay strapped to his back along with his trusty trident.

His bright golden crown lay on his head once again as he readjusted his armor.

He stood in full netherite armor, his hair lay hazardous around his head. Stiffening as hands began to braid it into a ponytail.

"Be careful Technoblade, Tubbo is fragile compared to me and Wil. He might be afraid, try not to hurt him and try not to get hurt." Philza warned.

Techno responded in a snort, He was the Blood God, of course he'll be careful

========

Technoblade isn't always the lovable dope he shows his family, he was ruthless, dangerous, and incredibly protective.

Everyone knew of him, but very few knew him.

When something happens to his family, he hunts down the threat and if it's killable...need he continue?

A pillager kidnapped his little brother, his pack, and expects not to be hunted down like prey? Pillagers are not known for brilliance.

"Technoblade?!" A familiar voice rang out behind him, a feral growl escaped him.

Dream, Sapnap and George ran up to him. All equipped in their own armour, oddly enough Dream was without his mask and tear stains on his face.

They hesitated, they each had seen Technoblade in his most feral and bloodthirsty before, so they new to be cautious.

Sapnap spoke in Piglin, "Techno? Did something happen to Wilbur and Phil?"

"New Pack, Pillagers took him!" It was no secret that Feral Technoblade couldn't speak common, but it was still a surprise each time someone heard it.

Sapnap nodded, "We'll help, Pillagers stole my Inferno. Work together?"

The trio watched as the Piglin Hybrid nodded in agreement, it had been a while since they teamed up. What better way than to save family.

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo and Ranboo talked quietly, trying to brighten their seemingly dark future.

Ranboo talked about what he remembered before being bought by his Haunting, then finally trusting them and calling them his.

Tubbo spoke of his Herd, how he met the older three and how he knew one was just giant. How he observed them long enough to trust them, and their names.

Both promising the other that if they live or die that the other tell their family.

Not that it was necessary, about three minutes later an alarm went off, alerting the occupant of intruders.

Hope filled the two as yells of fear and agony echoed through the building, scaring the Evoker that captured them.

The pillager didn't have time to cast a spell when a familiar face burst through the doorway.

Tubbo could see the rage in his red eyes, but his happiness clouded judgement.

"Techno!"

For a moment, his rage cleared only for it to return full force at the Evoker.

Not long after that, he was struck down and Technoblade gently took the cage off the wall. He noticed the Enderfae and looked around for others.

His clawed hand wrapped around the small cage at the sight of small bones and jarred tiny insides, the only other living thing in the room was a small zombie Piglin hybrid in a jar next to the taxidermy book.

He took the jar and opened it, grabbed the child and opened Tubbo's cage and passed them to him.

As the building began to burn, Technoblade left just as fast as he arrived.

Tubbo watched as Ranboo called out to three individuals, he recognized one being a Mushroom hybrid but not the other two.

The baby zombie Piglin Hybrid curled next to him, both shivered just realizing the cold.

The bandana wearing man looked to Technoblade, "I can carry them if you want, keep them warm. You did agree to let us spend the night at your place."

He didn't understand the snorts and grunts but it seemed like the baby did because he copied.

That brought a soft smile to the bandana boy and Technoblade, the later grinned at Tubbo.

Soon they were on the move again. Tubbo and Ranboo huddled the baby Piglin, more relieved than before that they were saved.

========

Tommy hadn't eaten anything since Tubbo was taken, he hadn't interacted nor did he call Wilbur name and claim he was bald.

The two sizeshifter knew deep down that he wouldn't get better unless Tubbo was with them again.

The front door swung open revealing a steaming Sapnap holding something against his chest with the protective determination that was only in reserve for his friends and family.

Soon the rest of Dream Team and Technoblade entered the cabin, they were covered in soot smudges and looked exhausted.

Phil could see Tommy stiffen and move further from the door but settled on Technoblade, "Tubbo?"

Sapnap moved his arms to reveal a small cage with three small beings inside, one Phil recognized immediately.

"Tubbo!" Philza approached the younger man, who backed away at the same time as Ranboo flinched.

But the old man was patient, and the cage was released again, this time Tubbo was halfway through the door and jumping into Phil's hands.

"Hi Phil! Where's Tommy!?" Tubbo looked exhausted as well.

As gently as well as fast as he could, Phil brought his hands on the table so Tubbo could run to Tommy.

"Tubbo!"

"Tommy!"

The duo hugged until Tubbo passed out and caused a mass panic from everyone but Ranboo.

It wasn't ideal, but it was a new beginning for the clingyduo.

[fandom-blackhole]

Sinful Sunday THOTS

So I'm starting this so this more so for myself. I was thinking, I take everyone else THOTS, but why not share my own? So on Sundays from now on I am going to post a list of THOTS I had during the week that I wrote down!

This weeks in shorter because I just got the idea last night and wrote them all up delirious with no sleep, so sorry for mistakes, but other words enjoy!

Thank you @fuckyeahbeskar for talking about two of these THOTS with me, and for telling me I should post one of them because that is what gave me this idea 😘

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Pairings: Paz Vizsla x Reader, Priest!Din Djarin x Reader, Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

Paz Vizsla x Reader

So I love sweet Paz and all but what about enemies to lovers Paz?

I've thought about this one for awhile...

So you are part of the mandalorian tribe that Paz and the remains of his tribe had joined. Immediately you and Paz started fighting, you weren't sure why, but just something about him rubbed at you. It wasn't uncommon for others to walk into a room and find you and Paz butting heads, literally. The two of you had been separated multiple times by the leader of your tribe and the armorer, just to keep you both from killing eachother. Eventually you decide to just start avoiding him and ignoring his presence, tired of fighting over stupid things. Unfortunately that lasted only a month before your leader called you into the armory for an assignment. He told you that you were being sent on a supply mission along with one of the warriors from the other tribe. You nodded and didn't think much of it until you were preparing the ship and Paz came strutting towards you. All you could do was clench your teeth and cross your arms asking him why he was here. He had only stared at you for a minute before saying, "I've been assigned to the supply mission." After that he finished loading the ship before heading to set up the controls. You just growled and sent a comm to your leader saying that if you survived this mission you were going to kill him.

The supply mission was to take two weeks, one to the planet where the supplies were stored and another to get back. The first two days the two of you stayed away from eachother. But on the third day the two of you started butting heads and arguing. On the 5th day Paz had managed to corner of of the ship and pin you to the wall, and in that moment you hated how flushed and hot you felt. You had to end up taking a cold shower to calm down.

When the two of you finally reached the planet and loaded the ship with supplies you were glad to be able to take some time away from Paz as you wandered the market while he was off bartering with the merchants. You made sure to take your time before walking back to the ship to find Paz FUMING. You just shrugged past him and onto the ship, totally ignoring his angry words about you being late and being an idiot and so on.

The first day back in hyperspace was spent avoiding eachother again, but that night you were over come with the need to touch yourself. You hated it but as you played with your clit all you could imagine was Paz’s body pressed against yours, pinning you in place, how he would feel slamming into you. Much to your frustration you came with a long groan of his name.

The next day found you and Paz fighting again unsurprisingly, but this time was different. This time, Paz once again pinned you to the wall before leaning down and whispering in your ear, "You know the walls of this ship are thin, and I could hear every moan last night. Was I mistaken when I heard my name as well?"

Could you only reply breathlessly as he moved his thigh between you legs, "You fucking wish Vizsla." And he leaned down close, bumping his helmet with your own as he pushed his thigh against you and whispering something quietly under his breath before saying, "Mmm maybe you need to be punished for lying." He immediately spanked you, and you couldn't help but moan and you could feel his smirk as he did it again. Before grabbing your ass roughing and saying that you were going to be sore tomorrow, he was going to make sure of it. Paz took no time at all before pulling you pants down and turning you around to face the wall. You angrily started to protest, but was immediately shut up with another smack to the ass, with which you could only moan brokenly. You heard Paz chuckle,, before spanking you again, before rubbing a hand over your flesh. Then he harshly pulled you back into his chest and kicked you feet apart before immediately pressing his glove covered finger tips to you clit. Paz then told you, "Im gonna make this pussy weep for me until you are begging for my cock." And he kept his promise. Paz brought you orgasm after orgasm and by your fifth you were already starting to beg him. He only growled in your ear and slapped you pussy saying, "You can do better than that. Beg. Me." You tried again, but it also result in another harsh slap. This time you let out a broken sob and whined out, "Please, fucking please pleasepleaseplease, Paz give your cock... I need to feel it inside of me so badly. Fuck me pleaaaassseeee."

And before you could even take a breath you felt him slam his enormous cock into you. You could only whimper at the stretch and curse Paz. He only chuckled and wait a few seconds, detailing everything he wanted to do to you before he started pounding into you so hard you could barely stand or think straight. Paz didn't let up and railed you through several more orgasms before he came deep inside you himself.  Afterwards he carried you to bed and mockingly said, "Goodnight cyare."

The rest of the trip was spent with petty fights ending in fucking eachother senseless and by the time you arrived at the covert you found yourself somewhat disappointed that this was all going to end. But you were shocked when Paz turned to you after he had landed the ship and asked, "Marry me?"

You only smirked and said back, "Give me a good reason too, di'kut."

You heard him growl, before he pulled you onto his lap and said, "So I can look you in the eye as I fuck the life out of you, so I can finally shut that mouth of yours up with my cock down your thoat."

Let's just say that the other mandalorians avoided the ship for a few hours as they heard moans coming quite loudly from inside. The Armorer and the tribe leader both nodded to eachother and let out a sigh glad that they wouldn't have to deal with your shit anymore.

(In this THOT i also imagine Paz being absolutely infatuated with you from day one, and those feelings that rub at you is just intense attraction that you don't want to acknowledge. The Armorer and tribe leader set the trip up to try and push the two of you together so they didn't have to deal with the sexual tension so thick it could kill anyone that walked past. In the end the are fucking relieved it worked, though a little too well lmao)

Din Djarin x Reader

So Priest!Din thot....

After Sunday service one week you ask him innocently if he would like help cleaning up the chapel. Din smiles and says yes thank you. You wave your family to go ahead and wait for Din to finish speaking and saying goodbye to the parishioners. When the last woman leaves, little old Mrs. Taylor, he waves you inside. The two of you work in relative silence as you put away all the hymnals and bibles, the only noise being your movements and your own humming of one of the hymns from that day's service. By the time the two of you made it to the front of the chapel, you turn to eachother and pause looking at eachother before you both lean forward for a sweet kiss. When you pull back you smile at Din, before biting your lip and saying, "That was a beautiful service today, Father Djarin."

You could see Din's eyes dark the second you uttered his title. The look he gave you sent a warm shiver down to your lower belly. Then he reached forward and pulled you close whispering, "Only the best for my flock, my child." You couldn't suppress the small gasp that passed your lips as his hand moved to your hip backing you up until you felt your back hit the altar. You were shocked even more when Din suddenly lifted you and put you on the altar and immediately rolled you dress up your thighs whispering about how much he has been aching to feel you again. Din stops suddenly when he finds you missing your panties and he moans before grunting out, "A sinful temptress who just continues to seduce me with her wicked ways..." Then he's crashing his mouth on yours as he works to open his belt and pull out his aching cock. You can only meal against him he slowly slips into you. He stays fully seated inside of you for a minute, breathing harshly into you neck before pulling back to meet your eyes.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweet girl. You.....you have consumed my every waking moment, and I cannot stop these sinful thoughts of you." Then he dives back down into the kiss as he starts pounding into you, muffins your moans and whines with his mouth. The two of you fuck passionately and full of forbidden love as you desecrate the altar of the most holy. Din praises and worships you and your body as if you were the diety he pledged his life too. When the two of you were thrown into the ultimate pleasure you met eachother's gaze and spoke the words you both wish you could say aloud.

Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

My Ezra THOT of the week....

Just a preface, Ezra has a prosthetic arm in this THOT...

You were a rather skilled prospector. You had almost a sixth sense for good dig spots and that made you raise through the ranks rather quickly. Even though you were valuable, you still were never able to hit a dig that allowed you to be payed enough to finally settle down. You were hoping this dig would be different. You'd been hired by a bigger company, and was going down to the planet with a crew of roughly 15. The way your employers had explained it, you all would be split into groups of three and whatever your group mined would be split into four, parts for the three of you, and one for the company. It was the best deal you had gotten, ever. The day you were to go to the moon you climbed aboard the shuttle and took a seat next to a man with a charming smile and a unique blonde patch. While waiting to leave the two of you became acquainted and learned his name was Ezra.

As it turned out, Ezra and you had been paired up in a group, along with a woman named Shelby. You also learned that Ezra was very much a talker and loved to please. Shelby got annoyed with his constant chatter, but you found yourself smiling softly and occasionally responding to his poetic words with sentences as graceful as you could make them. Loving the smile Ezra would shoot your way when you did. You also came to realize that Ezra would give nicknames to those that he latched onto and you learned quickly that he had dubbed you to be sunflower. At night the two of you would speak, sharing stories until Shelby would forcefully shut the lantern light out on you both telling you to shut the fuck up.

As grumpy as Shelby was, you were still hurt when one afternoon she disappeared for hours. Worried Ezra had gone to look for her only to come back with a grim look and a shake of the head. The two of you didn't speak the rest of the night, paranoid and not wanting to leave the other alone for a second. A few days later found you waking from sleep in a could sweat and with Ezra holding your face softly whispering reassuring words. That was the first night the two of you shared a cot, and after that it became a nightly occurrence. Eventually two of your three and a half month stay had passed and you found yourself looking up as Ezra walked into the shared tent after his shower in the communal space, he was shirtless and you watched as water dripped from his hair down his chest. He had immediately met your gaze and you blushed and turned back to your book quickly. You were shocked when you ft a finger trace you cheek, not having heard him approach. Then he spoke up and said, "Sunflower, I want you to promise me that if I cross a line, you will tell me. I in no way want to make you uncomfortable." You had only looked up at him confused. He responded by gently taking your book and setting it aside, before turning back to you and leaning in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before he softly brushed his lips against your own. Whwn you didn't pull away, Ezra dived in and pushed the kiss further. Soon you found yourself sitting in Ezra’s lap, stipped of everything but your under clothes, and makeout passionately with the man who has haunted your thoughts since you heard his voice. You instinctively started grinding against Ezra as you started to feel a pressure in you belly, that resulted in him groaning and grabbing your waist before pulling back slightly and looking you in the eye. He traced your skin for a second, causing goosebumps to erupt everywhere before he whispered, "May I ask a favor, my bright sunflower," you only nodded in response before he rushed out quickly and not as poetic as you are sure he would have liked, "Sunflower, please, for the love of Kevva, climb over me and place those sweet lips above mine." You sat there confused for a second before it clicked and you shyly asked him, "You want me to sit on your face?" You say his eyes dilated as he nodded shakily and whispered out a singular, please. You could only nod and he gave you the prettiest smile as he flopped back onto the bed before just completely rippling you panties off of you. You could only whine as he pulled your hips up. Ezra made sure you were making eye contact with him when he picked a broad striped along you slit with a groan and several muttered words. Ezra repeated that a few times before he stopped at your clit one pass and sucked it into his mouth. You could only choke out his name roughly before he just started eating you out like there was no tomorrow. At one point he as you were getting closer he pulled back long enough to tell you not to hold back anything, to tell you to grind against his face. You only moaned in response before he pulled you down onto his mouth and dipped into you again. It didn't take you long to start gasping out his name, and when Ezra reached up and grabbed your breasts, pinching your nipples, you felt your eyes roll back as you came all over his face as he continued his ministrations dragging out your orgasm as long as you let him. When you finally came back to your body you found yourself laying on the bed and Ezra naked next to you already dozing, having cum from his own touches while he was tasting you.

[marvelfansince08love]

Helpless

Word count: 2304 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader 

Warning: A small part is NSFW 18+

Prompt 9 - “You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month” 

A/N: For @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ I hope you enjoy love! Sorry it took so long x

Tagging a few: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @imnotasuperhero​ @j-does-life​ @the-enamorando-deity​ @missmonsters2​ @veteranwerewolf95​ 

Prompt 9

“Y/N DO NOT ENGAGE. I REPEAT DO NOT ENGAGE.” Steve’s authoritative voice crackles through the comms and into your ear, making you shake your head in defiance. 

“No can do, Cap. I have no other choice but to take out the west wing, there are people in that room.” You argue back, grunting as you swing a right hook into the guy's jaw, knocking him out cold. 

You continue to move forward taking out any and all enemies that cross your path. Muffled arguments continue on in your ear as you elect to ignore the orders and make your way to the west wing. 

“Listen to Steve Y/N, or so help me God I’ll make my way over to you myself.” That beautiful Sokovian accent drips low into your ear, making you falter ever so slightly from your task.

“Wanda, I have no choice. I can’t wait around for you to get here, it’s a ticking time bomb in there. I’m sorry.” You justify, before taking the small piece out of your ear and throwing it onto the floor. The angry voices of your girlfriend and friend/captain slowly get quieter as you move further down the hall. 

Once you’ve reached the secret office door, you search the now unconscious guard for his pass before entering the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here, little lady.” The man mocks, smirking criminally at you. He goes to remove his gun out of his holster but you clock the movement quicker than his reaction to reach for it, ducking quickly and with one leg out ready to sweep him to the floor you use one of Nat’s widow bites to finish the job, ignoring the pleading and screams of the civilians. You move forward to the small group tied together in the corner and hush them gently. 

“Hey hey, we got you guys. We’re gonna get you out of here, but I need you to stay quiet as there are still people like him on board, alright?” The silent nods of acknowledgement is enough to reassure you as you move towards the ticking bomb, making quick work to try and disable it. The time quickly descends as sweat begins to pour down your forehead. 

“Fuck! Why isn't this working?!” You growl, quietly to yourself. Fingers fumbling with the red and blue wires. 

“Y/N!” Natasha’s voice panicked as she entered the room with Sam and Bucky flanking either side of her. You refuse to turn your head to acknowledge their presence as you continue to work at the ticking time bomb. 

“Widow get them out of here, now!” You shout, your patience suddenly running thin as you realise you don’t have enough time to escape before the explosion. Hurried footsteps behind you, tell you they are following your order. A hand grips your shoulder tightly, snapping you out of your work.

“That includes you as well Y/N. Wanda will kill me if I leave you here,” Sam’s voice, grunts close to your ear. You nod in agreement before standing quickly and rushing out behind them. A gunshot close to your head makes you stumble to the side and turn quickly at the assault. 

“You think you can just leave? I needed those people and you freaks in suits having ruined everything! Now, you’ll pay.” The man from the office spats, holding out his gun pointing straight at you. You gulp realising that within the midst of chaos you had dropped your only weapon on hand after scuffling with the man in front of you.

“What you did was wrong, Andrews. You think killing me is going to stop you from going to prison? Human experimentation doesn’t go down well here.” You try to reason, keeping your eyes trained on the gun in front. 

“But it would feel so good to put a bullet through your narrow minded head.” He smirks, hand tightening around the gun. You blink quickly, trying to clear your now wet eyes. 

‘He’s going to kill me’ You think, frightened at the thought. 

“Over my dead body he will,” That sweet angelic voice that you love so much, growls from behind you as you watch the swirls of red mist travel past you and wrap around Andrews like a vice. You watch as his eyes widen in fear, his hand loosening around the gun as Wanda lifts him up into the air, her hand twisting ending his life.  You turn around quickly to face her, smirking slightly ready to tease her on how hot she is when she’s angry but the red glare she throws you makes you pause and gulp. 

“That window near the far corner is open, yes?” She questions not fully acknowledging your presence as she moves towards it. 

“Yeah, it broke through after the first explosion. Did the others make it out?” 

“Yes, luckily. You on the other hand..” she stops, shaking her head as to visibly stop her train of thought. 

Before you can apologise for your reckless behaviour, Wanda grabs a hold of you, pulling you tight against her as she jumps through the window using her magic to make our landing as safe as possible. Once on the ground Wanda pulls away from you and walks towards the Quinjet silently, you clench your jaw trying to hold back the frustrated tears. Before you could go and chase after her Steve blocks your path, arms crossed with that ‘I’m disappointed” look he wears whenever we go against his orders, you make a good effort to not roll your eyes at him. 

“What the hell was that, Y/N? You went against every order I gave you. How reckless could you be? You were lucky Wanda got to you in time.” 

“Hey! I knew exactly what I was doing Steve, I assessed the situation and realised we wouldn’t have enough time by the time the others got to me and I was closer to the room! I knew Wanda would get to me in time,” You lie, knowing full well that you doubted you were ever going to get out of there breathing and alive. 

“Well you know what, one of these days Wanda isn’t going to be able to get to you on time or anyone in fact. You have to be more careful Y/N! Consider this a warning.. You do it again, you're off the next mission.” He threatens, but you can see the fight in his eyes. On one hand he needs to be authoritative but he knows deep down he would have done the same. You sigh in defeat knowing that he is right. 

“You got it Steve. It won’t happen again, I promise.” You swear, he nods and sighs in relief before pulling you in for a brief hug before walking side by side with you to the Quinjet.

Once you walk inside, the others lecture and tease you about being so reckless and that you’ll end up like Tony if you aren’t careful, earning an offended ‘Hey!’ from the man himself at the front of the jet. You laugh at their joking but your eyes stray to the brunette figure in the corner of the jet, who seems far more interested in her magic that swirls around her slender fingers keeping herself away from the group and you as much as possible. 

You go to sit next to her and place a hesitant hand onto her knee, making her grab a hold of your hand and subtly shake her head in rejection. Your stomach drops at the thought of having an upset Wanda, knowing her silence is never good, you sit silently near her, never touching until you arrive back at the compound. 

You follow after her out of the Quinjet like a lost puppy as you hear quiet snickering from Sam and Clint. 

“Someone’s on the couch tonight.” Sam jokes to Clint, who chuckles before Nat walks between them, slapping them across the back of their heads at the childishness making them whine and wince. You continue forward hoping that she will talk to you but just as you go to speak she walks through the door of her floor and shuts it closing you off from her. You drop your head against the wooden door and sigh in defeat, a soft hand lays gently against your back. 

“Come on Myshka. Let’s leave our Little Witch alone to cool down. She’s more scared than angry Y/N, she didn’t think she’d get to you.” Nat soothes, guiding you away from your girlfriend's floor and to the communal area. 

“Okay, who wants a drink?” Tony asks, already scanning the liquor cabinet. Everyone cheers tiredly, while you continue to look down the empty hallway where Wanda’s floor is, hoping for her to come and join. 

‘Just give her time.’ You lecture yourself. 

***

You lie in your big, cold king sized bed, facing the ceiling as your mind reels from the day's events fresh from a well deserved shower. You had tried Wanda’s a few more times after a drink with the team but your brunette lover never responded. Sighing in defeat, you slumped your way to your own floor that you haven’t been using much since you and Wanda started dating over three months ago. The room feels cold and bare without the warm and softness of the witch. You lie in bed just hoping that tomorrow you can finally talk to her and make up for your reckless behaviour. With that, you slowly close your eyes and hope for tomorrow. 

The feeling of cool metal pinches slightly against your skin, stirring you awake suddenly at the thought of an intruder. Your eyes open wide and wild, ready to attack before they lay upon emerald eyes with a tint of red flickering around her iris. You open your mouth to speak but with the simple lay of her finger to your lips, you stay silent as she hushes you.

You look towards your left wrist noticing a pair of shining metal handcuffs attached to it as she brings your arm up towards your headboard, bounding you to it before moving to your right wrist. 

“Wanda baby, what are you doing?” You question with a twitch of a smirk already knowing the answer, you watch as a devilish smirk appears on her delicious red lips as she clicks the last pair into place, the weight of her on your stomach welcoming as a deep fire sets low within your navel. She leans down towards your ear and whispers softly with such command and lust. 

“You pull a stunt like that again; you won’t be coming for a month.” Before taking your earlobe between her teeth and dragging it out and licking around the shell of your ear making you moan. 

“Wanda, I’m sorr-” Her lips press against your own silencing your apology.  Her red lips placing a small delicate kiss across your cheek and down your neck, never missing an inch of skin. 

“Mmm, I love satin lace on you.” She comments above you, her hands dipping low and under your top trailing her fingers across your stomach and up towards your breasts. The action causes your stomach to become exposed to the cold air in the room making you gasp at the change in heat against your skin before she dips her head low and places a wet kiss against your navel. She looks up towards you, her mouth still hovering over your stomach as she smirks a little. 

“I’m going to ravish you until you are seeing stars in the night sky, my love. But before that, I want to tell you something.” She informs, leaning back up into a sitting position upon your waist. 

You got to place your hands upon her thighs but wince and grunt at the restriction, feeling helpless against the cuffs. 

“Wanda, untie me so I can feel you.” You whine. 

“You feel helpless, don’t you? To be restrained by something and be unable to reach out and touch me. That’s exactly how I felt today Y/N, I have never felt such terror and dread in my life… to be so helpless. If I had missed you by a split second, that would have been it. I would have lost you.” She confesses, you watch as tears build in her beautiful eyes as she follows the pattern her fingers are creating on your stomach, her chin trembling as she continues to feel you, her touch soft and slow as if trying to memorise every feeling, every touch of you. 

“Wanda please, untie my hands so I can hold you.” You plead, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a flick of her wrists the cuffs become loose as they limp to your sides at the sudden lack of restraint. You quickly pull her to you and hold her close, while she cries into your chest.

With your hands cradling her face, you bring her lips towards your own in a desperate kiss. 

“I promise, I will never go against you or the team again baby. I’m sorry.” You vow, through breathless kisses. With that said, Wanda pulls you closer to deepen the kiss as tongue and teeth clash in desperate need for one another. 

“I’m going to make love to you, moya lyubov and I want you to feel every moment of it.” She whispers against your lip as she grinds low on top of you, her panties under her oversized tee doing nothing to hide how wet she is underneath. You watch as her eyes spark a blood red as she grinds again against you making her groan in pleasure as you feel the rush of arousal hit you. 

“Make me feel, Wanda.” With a mischievous smile, she does exactly that. 

[anothertimdrakestan]

Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here 

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere. 

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest. 

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone. 

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat. 

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer. 

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear. 

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone. 

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,” 

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner. 

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it. 

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips. 

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?” 

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect. 

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim. 

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

~

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored. 

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since? 

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny. 

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes. 

~

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest. 

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,” 

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it. 

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious. 

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before. 

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear. 

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued. 

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?” 

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts. 

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function. 

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this. 

~

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone. 

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart. 

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word. 

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?” 

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly. 

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning. 

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted. 

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained. 

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.” 

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay. 

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again. 

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind. 

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words. 

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor. 

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

~

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him. 

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” 

-

-

-

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed! 

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare 

[aries-writingblog]

Atlas (1)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 1,666

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work Im posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

The Avengers Tower. Former Stark Tower. 93 floors of office space, labs- people carrying out their business. People going about their day. At the top of all of them is Tony Stark. Waiting. Waiting in silence. Typically, he isn’t one to wait on anything or anyone but today... today is different. Today is special. Finally, the silence is broken by a shrill ring of his phone. Tony snaps it up, immediately accepting the call.

“Mr. Stark? Reid Kerrings.” The man’s voice carried through the phone, introducing himself. “Listen, I hear you’re trying to to negotiate a prisoners freedom?”

“She shouldn’t even be a prisoner,” Tony grumbled before plastering on a thick business tone. “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do here. Thing is, I have a plan that I ran by Fury and Coulson and they seem to think it’s a great idea. Only thing is- that prisoner of yours is apparently ‘dangerous’ and she’d need stipulations on if she were to be released into my care.”

Tony hated this- speaking about her as if she were a terrorist. He hated that she’d been in maximum security prisons for six years. He hated that she was on the raft now. But, if he wanted to play ball, he had to agree to the terms. And unfortunately, that was one of the terms. He’d tried it his way two years ago and it got shut down. Several times.

“Well... you’re a damn maniac- prisoner 067112 is a psycho-“

“Her name is Tessa and that’s my sister you’re talking about so if you’d like to see your job another day I’d keep quiet.” Tony snapped, clenching his jaw. The phone fell silent before Kerrings cleared his throat.

“She would have to meet with an appointed therapist three days a week. She would also have to have a check in twice a week with a parole officer. If there is any flare up of her enhancement that is not accounted for by a member of your team, she comes back here and is no longer allowed parole. She is to be on a tight leash.” Kerrings read through the conditions of the agreement that Tony and Fury had worked out. “She must agree to these terms before her release. If she does, she will be escorted to your property tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Do you agree to these statements made today?”

“Yes.” Tony felt an excited, nervous bubble form in his stomach. He was doing it. His sister was almost free.

“Excellent. The escort team will run a security check on the building and perimeter.”

“Oh, well, not to brag or anything but- it’s the Avengers Tower. I ’m pretty sure this is the best it gets in terms of security.” Tony scoffed, turning when he heard the door opening. Steve Rogers stepped into the room, intending on speaking with Tony about another comm unit. He broke his. Again. He stopped short, hearing the man on the phone.

“This woman shouldn’t even be out of her cell here- she’s dangerous, I don’t care if shes your sister or not. The power of this woman is something that should be contained. not roaming around New York on a Thursday afternoon.”

“She’s a human being. No telling what you freaks have put her through in the raft- that’s probably why she’s going insane. You don’t even allow sunlight in that dingy of a prison. You treat someone like an animal, that’s what they become. Now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to run my own safety diagnostics on my own tower.” Tony quickly ended the call and lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s. “Can I help you, o wise elder of the yonder village?”

“Just... a new comm piece.” Steve stepped forward and tossed the broken pieces to the desk before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “What was that all about?”

“That is a surprise for the team I’m arranging.” Tony sat down at his desk, pulling up an image of a new weapon system, one that they’d encountered a few weeks ago on a mission. “These thugs were dealing with now... they’re sophisticated. They’re playing on a new ball field. So... I’m leveling it.”

“You can’t just do that without consulting the team first.” Steve scolded, his arms crossing over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see- tomorrow morning at ten, have the team all meet in the conference room. I’ll bring my surprise to you.” Tony grinned, feeling strangely optimistic for once. Steve only sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Tony.

“Fine- I’ll call a meeting.” Steve spun on his heel and marched out of the office. Tony sank further into his chair, spinning it to look out of the window.

“Friday, make sure floor ninety two is fireproof.” Tony called out, a twinge of doubt forming in his mind. He was quick to shake the thought from his mind, funneling all his belief into his sister. It had to work. For her sake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at the oval conference table, Bucky felt an impatience he hadn’t felt in months. Steve had let it slip- more like Bucky could tell there was something and kept prying- that Tony was on the phone with someone, talking about a prisoner. A woman prisoner. Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect and that caused a great deal of anxiety to pit in his chest. He didn’t like being kept in the dark.

Beside him, Steve sighed heavily, leaning his head on his fist, resting on the table. Being roommates with the guy, he knew Steve hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night, like most nights. He knew this because he himself was also up, roaming the apartment, watching tv and staring off the balcony.

“Anyone know what this surprise it stark mentioned?” Natasha pressed, becoming quite impatient herself. They’d all been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes. Waiting.

“No clue- I hope it’s better than the last surprise- the one that exploded while in use on the field.” Sam commented, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.

Finally, the door to the room burst open, revealing Tony Stark marching in with purpose. Behind him, a woman in heavy chains, with metal cylinders encasing her hands, was being escorted in by two men in fire retardant kevlar uniforms. Her head was bowed, dark brown hair shifting to cover her face. Bucky sat up, seeing the woman marched in, heavily restrained. Tony clapped his hands, rubbing them together afterward. He gave the crowd a large smile and nodded once.

“Surprise, Avengers! This is my favorite sister, Tessa Stark, Tess, this is everyone. I’m sure you were given the brochure.” He turned to the two men. “You fulfilled your duties, you can go now.”

The men unclipped the chains and then pressed their thumbprints to the pads on the cylinders. They released with a hiss of steam, Tessa rubbing her wrists once they were free.

“I know you.” Sam’s voice broke into the conversation. Tessa’s jaw clenched and her eyes stared into the floor. She swallowed harshly, keeping her back ramrod straight and her hands in front of her. “Stark... oh, shit- where have I seen you...”

“Anyways folks, she is here to help out on our new group of rogues... she has a, ah... particular set of skills. Mostly explosives and fire. And since that’s what we’re dealing with, I’ve brought in the big guns.” Tony explained, settling in his chair and gesturing for Tessa to take a seat as well. She seemed wary of sitting beside Wanda but did it anyways, sitting barely on the edge of the chair. “Now, we’re gonna need a new plan of attack with-“

“Atlas!” Sam snapped his fingers, pointing at her. Tessa stiffened, caught off guard by the level of his voice. “That’s it! Code Name Atlas, Operation Dry Sands! You served in the army- I’m Sam Wilson, I flew with-“

“Riley...” her voice was raspy and low, rusted with disuse. “I remember you.” Bucky watched as she seemingly tried to melt into the chair, trying to hide herself.

“You were baller, man! She cleared missions like it was nothing!” Sam praised her, excited to finally meet her. “There was talk of her all over camps- everywhere!”

“Atlas?” Natasha asked, a brow raising. “That’s a peculiar code name- sounds... specific.” Tessa didn’t respond, keeping her head low. When the room fell silent, Steve took control.

“Right, well, Tony you mentioned a new plan of attack?” He expertly guided the topic over to a new path. Bucky couldn’t help but let his attention drift back to the new mystery in the room. He allowed his eyes to scan over her, stopping on her forearm where there was black ink. A tattoo of the army symbol, numbers below it. Maybe her squad number? Her arm shifted and Bucky looked up, meeting her eyes. He knew he’d fucked up.

Her dark brown eyes smoldered- a red tint glowing under her irises. Her lips were pulled into a scowl. He quickly lowered his gaze, catching a glance of her veins in her arms. glowing lightly orange. Bucky clenched his jaw and leaned back into his chair, a fierce scowl building on his lips. He didn’t like this woman, She seemed... violent. closed off. Hell- maybe she was just too much like him. And maybe he shouldn’t make a snap assumption but for some reason...

“Alright well, that’s all for now, Tessa- welcome to the team, please make yourself comfortable and if there’s anything we can do to help out- let us know.” Steve nodded as he stood up.

Tessa only nodded, stood up and spun on her heel- leaving the room without a word. Everyone glanced to Tony. He only shrugged and stood up.

“I’m gonna go make her feel at home- just got out of prison and all, see you around.” Tony gave a small wave over his shoulder and walked out, trailing out after his explosive sister.

[choco-glow]

Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 9

“Asshole cop.” Jason grumbled as they walked back towards the truck, and Steph giggled wildly, her lipstick only just cleaned up from the wipes she kept in her bag, eyes dancing as they made their way through the crowded Saturday night boardwalk, said asshole cop glaring behind them. Sure, they maybe got a little too into making out on the bench, but Jason had been so thrilled by her reference, and Steph was just…absolutely in love with Jason. So. Y’know. One thing led to another and Jason’s hand had crept up her skirt while she’d straddled his lap…

And then Officer O’Grady had blown his whistle. Right in their ears.

“I agree…sorry he got your bad side…” Jason shot her a grateful smile, and she kissed his cheek softly, all sympathy. The explosion when he was fifteen had ruptured his eardrum, and high-pitched sounds bothered the hell out of him on his left side still, which was why his helmet had specialized protective ear guards, and he wore sound-reducing plugs with his domino. It…was perhaps one of the few things that Bruce and Jason had bonded over; Bruce used similar ones for his own cowl, and had adapted Jason’s with regard to the minor hearing loss.

“Eh…At least it didn’t make my tinnitus start up. All he had to do was cough or somethin’…” Steph agreed, and rubbed his back soothingly, smiling as Jason squeezed her shoulder and kissed her temple. As much as she’d liked the idea of the Ferris Wheel…O’Grady was following, she could sense his eyes on her ass, and evidently, so could Jason; he raised his free arm to flip the cop off and hugged her a little closer, arm sliding down to wrap around her waist. Not to grope her, not that Steph would have minded…but she smiled, snuggling in close anyway. It was possessive without making her the possession.

Makes Dean look like the pervert he was. Creep. And Jason and I are what…three years apart? She made a few mental calculations and nodded to herself, satisfied; they were right at three years and two months apart, and while she and Tim were the same age…she had more in common with Jay. More shared life experience, too…

“Babe? You okay there? You look like you’re a million miles away…” Jason murmured, pausing at the entrance to the carpark, and Steph shook herself, smiling up at him.

“Yeah…sorry, was just…thinking about things.”

“…Good things? Bad things?”

“A little bad, then a little good. I promise, I’m okay…just…maybe more tired than I realized.” She winced at that, but Jason just chuckled, warm and sweet.

“I don’t doubt it, we were both up early. As fun as the bench was…how about we head back and get some rest, hmm?”

“Yes please…Um…do…you mind if I ask you to take me home?” His eyes softened at that, dark green with the night, and he kissed her softly, guiding her back over the gravel with care.

“Not at all, sweetheart; besides, I don’t put out on the first date.” Steph burst into giggles at that, and Jason snickered, helping her back up into the truck. He hopped over the hood, every inch the reckless Bat-boy, which made Steph break into more giggles. Joining her in the cab, he swooped in for a kiss that Steph gladly gave, and carefully got them out of the parking space, bitching a little about idiot tourists and shitty drivers as he made his way to the road again. “Goddamn fuckin’ cop could be over here clearing this mess out…”

“At least Penguin’s men have it well-lit again; the city didn’t do shit about that.” Steph growled out, suddenly feeling far more charitable to Cobblepot and his crew. Whatever else Oswald might have once been, fatherhood seemed to have mellowed him immensely, and his mostly-legit wealth was going into things like lighting the Mile, same with Bruce; hell, Bruce had even sent baby gifts, both has Wayne and Batman, since Cobblepot had largely dropped out of the Rogues’ with the birth of his daughter.

“Yeah, I think B thanked him for it the other day, Barb was shocked on the comms because they actually had a polite conversation; he asked about Robin, B asked about Tracey and little Eugenie.”

“Awwwww…I’ll get a purple penguin for her when I go out on patrol tomorrow.” Jason chuckled at that, and Steph relaxed into his shoulder, fine with taking the back roads home to her apartment. Here too, the little improvements had made things better for everyone, not just the wealthy Gothamites; lights brightened the once gloomy alleys, and people, feeling safer, had begun cleaning them up. Dumpsters had been moved to the backs of the buildings, and play areas built, full of beat up toys. Old sawhorses and a few semi-straight boards sporting carefully repaired flowerpots full of cheap herbs and little flowers leaned against the brownstones, painted bright with cheap acrylic and leftover housepaint.

Graffiti artists, once the bane of the neighborhoods, had been given purpose and permission to express themselves via the Wayne Urban Art grants, and now murals of every color covered the once ugly cement walls. Meanwhile the old abandoned lots, once ignored by the city, had been bought up by Wayne Industries and given to the neighborhoods as small leisure areas, with young saplings and soft grass and little free gardens, tended carefully by gardeners hired by Bruce himself.

Crime still ran rampant, of course; hell, that’s why they still had patrols.

But more and more, that crime was white-collar or supervillain; the average Joe was happy to have a good job again, and a place to call home that wasn’t covered in trash and grime. Petty criminals with a family to feed or a dangerous addiction had more avenues for help now, with flyers on every corner, and kind counselors available night and day. And the only requirement was only “if you know someone else who needs us, please bring them here.” Steph approved of that, as did Jason, and Bruce had only smiled and said “I thought of you two when we set that up.” Highest compliment he’s ever given us, I think…it…it really has made a difference. Just in my life alone…

Crystal Brown had been among the first he’d welcomed to the program, and Steph had broken down crying on Bruce’s shoulder the day her mom had come home clean. Really clean now; whatever else might have happened between them, Steph was just glad to have her mom back…and Jason had had much the same reaction, so Alfred had told her, when Roy’d gone through it too. Roy was Jay’s best friend in the whole world…she smiled a little. I’d almost be jealous, but…Cass is my best friend. And if Cass swung that way, I’d have dated her in a heartbeat, I think…I’m not mad that he and Roy were a pair. I’m just glad they’re still friends.

“Gotta say, B’s really made home feel a lot less gentrified, and more…”

“Alive.” She murmured, and Jason nodded, his voice a little tight as he pulled into her apartment’s lot.

“…I was worried, when he started this, that it’d be the Bowery all over again.” He murmured, and she squeezed his arm, taking a deep breath.

“Me too, if we’re being honest here. But…it’s not. It’s not. It’s…what we would have wanted. Hell, he even retrofitted the Starlight with green tech so that the Narrows’ best babysitter didn’t have to close down.” He laughed, soft and sweet, and kissed her forehead.

“Tell me about it, I begged him to bankroll it when I was a kid because…well, it’s the last original roller rink on the East Coast. I couldn’t bear to see it torn down. I think he started doing it after I died…kinda sweet, to be honest.”

“That’s what I would have done…Ooh. We should go skating next time.” Steph mused, and Jason’s answer was in a hot, sweet kiss, his eyes dancing in the streetlights.

“It’s a date. C’mon, I’ll walk you to your door?” He suggested, offering his hand, and Steph let him pull her out, heart as light as a feather. He was easy to lean into, not handsy in the slightest, big hands rubbing up and down her back, and already, Steph was boneless against his chest, drowsing as they rode the elevator back up. Their hands clasped, Steph swung them a little as they pulled apart, yawning widely as the elevator stopped and she could lead him back down to her apartment door, pulling out her key.

“Mmn…thank you. I love you…and I hope this is still okay?” She murmured, hopeful and more than a little nervous. Jason kissed her again, then once more, and bussed her nose with his own, the smile on his lips as clear a confirmation as the words…but she liked hearing him anyway.

“I love you too, babe, and this is so okay. Get some rest, alrighty? Tim took our patrol tonight, B sent me an apology text earlier, so we’re good till tomorrow.”

“Good. Bastard should know better than to get between me and waffles.” The roguish grin on Jason’s face made her grin back, and he stroked her hair back over her ear again, something she never let Dean or Tim do, because it felt…weird with them. It felt right with Jay.

“Goddamn right, Blondie. Sleep tight, babe, can I bring you waffles in the morning, or are you waffled out?”

“Jay, if you bring me waffles in the morning, I’ll put out, alright? Waffles are life.” She retorted, and he fell back with a snicker, shaking his head as he kissed her.

“Well hell, if it’s really that easy, babe…” She swatted his arm, still grinning, and he kissed her once more, leaning into her doorway in a gesture that should have felt intimidating…but like before, well…it was Jay. It felt right. Steph kissed him back, sighing softly, and he pulled back to kiss her in the center of her forehead. “Head to bed, babe, I’m not far off. If you need anything, call me, okay?”

“Mmn, sounds good…are you really gonna bring me waffles?” She replied, hopeful, and he grinned again, his smile as addictive as his kisses.

“Goddamn right I will, babe. What time works?”

“Probably eight, at least? I need to get up early, do housework, do homework…” She made a face, and he made a face with her.

“Ugh. Well, I can help with the former, and as for the latter, I can be a quiet boyfriend and clean my guns?”

“Deal…See you then?” Steph wanted to crash, she really did, she was yawning so much now…but she didn’t want him to go…

“See you then. Goodnight, Stephie.” He murmured, kissing her once more, then closed the door for her. She leaned against it, listening to him slip down the stairs, and smiled, stepping out of her sandals with a groan of relief (they were cute, but she was tired enough for them to start hurting finally), and made quick work of taking off the rest of her make up, hanging up her dress, changing into comfy undies and a huge tee shirt. Taking down her hair, she glanced over at her phone…and grinned to see his number light up on the screen. She swiped to answer, and leaned back against the pillows.

“Miss me already, handsome?” He chuckled, warm and low, and it didn’t matter that she’d been hearing it all night; she could hear it a million times, and never get tired of it.

“You know it, baby. Figured you’d probably have trouble getting to sleep, as tired as you were, so…I thought maybe I could read to you?” He sounded so hopeful over the line, and Steph’s breath hitched in her chest. Oh…

“…I’d really, really like that. What did you have in mind?” She could see his grin as she closed her eyes, and heard the soft sound of pages turning, the faintest creak of an old book opening.

“Well, I always loved Pride and Prejudice…”

[ejzah]

A/N: I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but here’s yesterday’s Whumptober post since ff.net is still having issues off and on. Sorry for clogging up your feeds with all my posts about this.

***

“Deeks, sit rep!” Callen shouted over comms as Deeks grunted loudly in pain. It wasn’t the first time he’d requested an update. Deeks punched one of the two gunmen trying to corner him, slamming the guy into the concrete wall and managed a breathless,

“Oh, I’m fantastic.” The other guy, who had a severe buzz cut and three inches on Deeks, stalked closer while he surveyed the situation. He’d lost his gun fighting the first gunman; it had flown somewhere across the room. It was too far away for Deeks to make a run for it and he was only armed with his knife now. “Actually, some back up might be nice,” he decided.

“Ok, we’re on our way.” As he dropped into a crouch to avoid his opponent’s roundhouse kick, Deeks hoped they came quickly.

***

“Stay down!” Deeks shouted, digging his knee into his opponent’s back. The guy kept jerking, nearly dislodging Deeks’ hold. It was taking all his strength to keep him down.

He panted as he leaned over the man. A couple of drops of blood fell from his nose, landing on the guy’s shirt, and spread into oblong dots.

The man underneath him roared and flipped onto his back, using the force to slam Deeks into the ground. His head made a sharp crack as it hit the concrete and Deeks instantly lost his grip, all his attention now focused on staying conscious.

He didn’t even see the first kick coming, but he certainly felt it. The breath rushed from his lungs and he gasped, curling into the fetal position for a second.

The guy must have been wearing steel-toed boots, because every kick felt like it was pulverizing Deeks’ insides. Deeks let his body go limp, not needing to fake his labored breathing.

He kicked Deeks in the stomach a couple more time, apparently just for the fun of it. Deeks didn’t move, letting his head fall back. His opponent looked over him and grinned, pulling out a sharp looking knife. As he bent forward, Deeks thrust himself forward and used the momentum to ram the man straight into a concrete pillar.

It was enough to stun him and Deeks dove for his gun, grasping the handle and rolling onto his back just as the door to the floor burst open and Sam rushed in, immediately followed by Callen and Kensi.

“On your knees!” Sam shouted, aiming his automatic rifle at Deeks’ opponent, who was just stumbling to his feet. He snarled, but dropped to his knees without a fight.

“Oh, sure. Now you come after I do all the work,” Deeks muttered breathlessly, wincing as he tried to sit up. Kensi rushed to his side, her hands quickly running over his torso as she eyed him with concerned.

“Deeks, are you ok? No, don’t get up,” she said, pressing on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. His head felt like someone had, well, shoved it into a wall and his ribs were on fire, but he didn’t think it was any worse than he’d had before.

“It sounded like he was knocking the crap out of you,” Callen commented, offering Deeks a hand.

“I, agh,” He gasped as his abdomen protested the sudden movement and stood in a hunched position for a minute, waiting for the pain to subside while Kensi hovered over him. “I was just, uh, lulling him into a false sense of security.”

“Sure you were,” Sam said as he finished handcuffing the Deeks’ opponent and jerked him to his feet. He glared at Deeks again, baring his teeth. Deeks winked at him and grinned, knowing that his teeth, coated with blood, would be a nasty sight.

“Kens, you take Deeks to the emergency. We’ll handle these two guys.”

As Kensi wrapped her arm around his waist, he tried not stumble.

***

Deeks shifted uncomfortably, stretching his torso to relieve some of the pressure. His trip to the ER had been uneventful with a diagnosis of bruised ribs, as he’d expected, and a couple stitches to his bottom lip.

The attending doctor, an overworked looking man who could have been anywhere between 30 and 40, had given him a script for prescription strength Tylenol. So far the three pills he’d taken hadn’t soaked in.

“You almost finished?” Kensi asked, coming up behind him and resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I just need to send my after case, incident, and my injury reports to LAPD,” he said.

“I’m so glad I don’t have to fill out reports for two agencies.”

“Your sense of sympathy is remarkable,” Deeks drawled with a grin. He tilted his head back for a kiss and then turned back to his work.

It was after 8 by the time they got home and Deeks was absolutely wiped. It felt like every part of his body had been pummeled with a meat tenderizer. He gingerly tugged off his jacket, which reignited the fiery pain in his lower abdomen.

Kensi flipped on a few lights, took Monty for a quick bathroom trip, and then started rooting around in the fridge and cupboards.

“Ok, your choices are leftover Pho or my famous peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“I think I’ll pass on dinner,” he said, shuffling to the stairs. Kensi paused in the process of filling two bowls with soup, already having guessed his normal preference.

“Are you sure? You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I really just want to sleep.” He was exhausted and laying down sounded blissful.

Kensi frowned, but didn’t push any further and dumped one of the bowls back into the takeout container. She joined him at the foot of the stairs and gently wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

“Ok. I’ll be up in a little bit,” she told him, punctuating her words with a kiss. Deeks grinned for the first time in several hours. If he wasn’t so sore and tired, he would seriously consider starting something.

He ran his nose along the length of Kensi’s jaw and across her cheek. Kensi made an incredibly sexy sound in the back of her throat as he teased her lips apart. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her thoroughly. Kensi’s arms came around him again, pulling him against her. He yelped at the sudden pain the slight pressure had caused in his entire abdomen.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted as Kensi instantly jerked away, her hands fluttering over him once again. “It’s just my ribs.”

“That’s not good, babe,” Kensi said with a frown. “If it still hurts this much tomorrow, I’m taking you back to the doctor.”

“I’ll feel better once I lay down.”

***

An hour or so later, Kensi had finished dinner, taken Monty for a quick walk, and paid a couple bills. She hadn’t heard any sound since Deeks went upstairs. When she checked their room, she found him laying on his back amid a nest of pillows.

She was reassured to see him sound asleep. Careful not to wake him, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm and smelled faintly of sweat and blood. He must have been extremely tired to forego a shower.

She changed and slipped into bed beside him, resting a hand on his chest. Deeks sighed a little in his sleep, but didn’t move.

Kensi woke up suddenly, blinking in the darkness. She automatically swept her hand over Deeks’ side of the bed and found it empty.

Frowning, she sat up and glanced around the room, noticing the stream of light coming from under the bathroom door. There was nothing unusual about Deeks using the bathroom in the middle of the night, but her stomach clenched with unexpected foreboding as she approached the door.

“Babe, you ok in there?” she asked quietly, tapping on the door. He didn’t answer so she tapped again and heard the unmistakable sound of retching. She yanked the door open without and gasped as she saw him bent over the toilet. “Deeks,” she murmured, rushing to his side.

He weakly turned his head, his eyes glassy and skin visibly sweaty. Kensi brushed his damp hair back from his forehead, her concern mounting as she felt his burning skin. She didn’t need a thermometer to know he had a fever.

“I don’t feel very good,” he mumbled hoarsely, flinching as he shifted minutely.

“How bad does your stomach hurt?”

“It’s killing me. I took some antacids, but it just made it worse.” His words were becoming more slurred and his head drooped. “Feels like something’s gonna explode.”

Kensi wrapped her arms around his torso, easing him back against her chest. He still whimpered, his entire body shaking with the effort to support himself at all. This was definitely more than just bruised ribs.

She lifted his damp shirt, revealing his stomach and upper chest.

“Oh my god,” she murmured. Dark, almost black bruises covered the majority of his abdomen. They were the worst on his right, lower side. “Ok, we need to get to the hospital now.”

“Ok,” he muttered, not questioning her. His face drained of color as he pushed himself up on shaking arms and for a moment Kensi was worried he was going to pass out.

She helped him sit on the bed, reluctant to leave him alone. He seemed unaware of her worry, consumed with holding himself upright, one arm loosely wrapped around his middle.

“I’m going to grab your shoes and the keys. Don’t move.”

By the time they were on their way to the hospital, Kensi could tell that the pain was getting worse. She sped down the quiet streets of their neighborhood, praying that an unsuspecting police officer wouldn’t try to pull them over.

“Ok, baby, we’re almost there,” she told him, more for her own sake than his, as she parked haphazardly in front of the emergency entrance. Deeks made it through the door on his own, but Kensi knew the effort had cost him. She got him situated in a chair in the waiting area and he groaned again, curling in on himself.

There was one nurse on duty behind the front desk, paging through a file. She didn’t look up as Kensi approached, consumed with her task. Kensi smacked her hand against the top of the counter and the nurse looked up in dismay and then annoyance.

“My husband needs to be checked out immediately,” Kensi said, gesturing to where Deeks was stretched into an awkward position in an attempt to find some relief. “He was kicked in the stomach earlier today and now he has severe bruising and stomach pain.”

Picking up on the urgency in her tone, the nurse pulled a stethoscope from around her neck and hurried towards Deeks.

“When did you say he was kicked?” she asked. Deeks didn’t resist when she lifted his shirt and pressed the chest piece to his lower abdomen. He jerked reflexively when she pushed a little harder, gripping the arm of the chair so tightly his nails bit into the fabric.

“Um, about 12 hours ago.”

“Any other symptoms?”

“He has a fever and nausea. He threw up earlier. We went to the ER and the doctor said it was just bruised ribs, but I think it’s something else,” Kensi explained, feeling helpless as the nurse gave Deeks a cursory examination.

“Does it hurt when I push here?” She directed this question to Deeks, who hissed loudly when she lightly palpitated the most bruised area.

“Son-of-a,” he muttered.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said grimly, turning back to Kensi. “I’ll have someone bring a wheelchair and get a doctor to see your husband as soon as possible. You can fill out his paperwork while we wait.”

***

Kensi walked down the hall, chewing on her bottom lip as she clutched Deeks’ phone to her chest. A doctor had come to evaluate Deeks about 20 minutes after they arrived and after another brief examination and a few questions, ordered a CT scan.

The doctor hadn’t seemed overly concerned until the results had come back. Then all hell broke loose. Suddenly Deeks was transferred to a gurney while the doctor pulled her aside and quickly explained that he thought Deeks was suffering from internal bleeding or a ruptured organ. She’d barely had time to kiss Deeks before he was wheeled off for emergency surgery.

Kensi had been pacing ever since; she was exhausted, but if she sat down, she knew the fear would overwhelm her. God, she hadn’t even had the chance to say “I love you” and her mind was filled with the image of his sweaty, pained face.

“Mrs. Deeks?” She spun around, rushing over to the doctor who performed Deeks’ surgery.

“Dr. Andrews, is he alright?” she demanded.

“We had to remove his appendix, but the surgery went well.”

“His appendix,” Kensi repeated and Dr. Andrews nodded.

“The trauma he received inflamed his appendix and over the course of the day, the organ became infected, causing acute appendicitis,” he explained, handing her a image from the CT scan and indicating the spot where his appendix had been. It was a darkened mass that Kensi, even with her limited knowledge, knew should not be there.

“Oh my god.” She could only imagine the force Deeks was kicked with to cause that type of damage and she felt slightly nauseous.

“Some of the surrounding tissue and other organs sustained fairly significant inflammation as well, so we will want to monitor him for a couple days.”

“So he could need more surgery?” she asked a little faintly.

“In my professional opinion, it’s unlikely. We just want to be sure.” When Kensi continued to look worried, he touched her shoulder, his expression kindly. “Your husband is going to be fine,” he assured her. “You can go in and see him now if you’d like.”

He was still unconscious when she entered his room, attached to several IV’s and a heart monitor, with an oxygen mask over his face.

She stepped right up to the bed, but hesitated to touch him. He looked so fragile with all the wires trailing from his body and a large white bandage covering a good portion of his midsection. She contented herself with running her fingers through his hair.

His eyes fluttered at her touch, opening completely when she gently cupped his cheek. Slowly Deeks opened his eyes completely, glancing around the room in mild confusion before he landed on her.

“Hey,” he murmured hoarsely. He frowned at the oxygen mask and clumsily took it off.

“Hey, baby. How’re you feeling?” she asked, tugging a chair towards the bed and sitting down.

“Like someone pulled my insides out and stuffed them back in.”

“Well, I guess they kind of did. They had to take your appendix out.”

“Huh.” He glanced down at his bare torso, poking at the bandage. “I wonder if I’ll have a big scar,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re going to be alright,” she said. Deeks gave her a lazy grin.

“But just think of my beautiful golden skin, marred by a big, nasty scar. The women will be mourning in the streets.”

“Oh my god, you are so stupid.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his and rested her hand over the center of his chest, reassured by the steady beat of his heart. His skin was still a little warmer than normal. “I was really scared,” she whispered.

He laid his hand over hers, applying gentle pressure.

“Me too,” he admitted. “But I’m ok.” He shifted his head slightly and kissed her. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t explode.”

Kensi laughed wetly, cupping his cheek.

“Anytime.” They stayed like that for several minutes until Deeks started to blink sleepily. “Do you need anything?” she asked.

“I’m a little chilly.”

“I’ll see if there’s an extra blanket.” Deeks grabbed her hand a little tighter, tugging lightly.

“Or we could snuggle,” he suggested with an impish smirk. Kensi eyed his bandages, reluctant to risk hurting him. “Are you really going to let me lay here and freeze.” He lifted the edge of his blanket in a clear invitation. Rolling her eyes, Kensi crawled in beside him, carefully arranging her arms around him. When they were settled, Deeks sighed, pressing his nose into her hair.

It was hardly comfortable, with the safety bar digging into her back and the constant beeping, but Kensi was content to lie there all night. She’d nearly lost Deeks again and she wasn’t about to stray too far.

***

A/N: Am I playing fast and loose with science and medicine again? Why yes I am. While rare, blunt abdominal trauma has been known to cause appendicitis on occasion.

I also based Deeks’ symptoms on my own experience with a twisted ovary, which was originally misdiagnosed as appendicitis and a couple cousins who actually did have acute appendicitis and required surgery.

[flowers-of-io]

Where Lost Things Go

Read it on AO3 here.

Spider’s Palace. Oh, what a lovely spot to spend the evening.

Ór pulls her hood over her face before walking in, all knives in place, Ghost hidden and gun loaded. Two Eliksni in spiky armour guard the door but let her through without a word. They seem more of a warning than actual threat. When she passes them, the airlock behind her shuts with a thud.

The room is all chaos and noise – dozens of voices in at least four languages, chairs shuffling against the metal floor, suspicious fluids being poured to and drank from dirty glasses. Runi chitters uncomfortably in the comms.

“Don’t drink anything here. I don’t want to reconstruct your blown-up stomach,” he warns. Ór only rolls her eyes.

She scans the swirling crowd: Eliksni and Awoken, and even some Cabal deserters, all squashed together in a brightly lit space, drinking, gambling and shouting over one another. She catches a sentence or two in Terran, and a pair of Dregs behind her speak Eliksni so fast she cannot make out the words. Suddenly, a tall Awoken woman in the corner spills her drink over a Legionary sharing the table with her and pulls out a knife.

The guards in spiky armour are beside her in split second. One punches her in the stomach and the other whips the knife from her hand. When they drag her out through the airlock, she is still throwing curses in a posh Reef dialect.

The Palace is a venue with no rules but one: absolutely no violence.

Ór makes her way through the room, eyes sweeping over every passing face. When she spots a table under one of the lamps, just by the bar, with only one seat taken, one corner of her lips moves slightly upwards. The Spider knows his clients remarkably well. A Vandal sitting there looks haggard even for an Eliksni, shreds of grey and violet cloth hanging from his lanky frame and a helmet that has certainly seen better days. She notices no House symbols on him, though the violet rags seem to be a remainder of Dusk attire.

She checks the knives again, then throws a bag of glimmer on the table in front of the Vandal and slips onto the other stool. He looks up and his eyes flicker aggressively yet curiously.

“Heard you liked Human card games,” she says.

The Vandal’s gaze flicks between her and the glimmer before he hisses in Terran with a distinct growly accent, “Yess… for what?”

“Twelve thousand,” Ór gestures to the bag. “In turn… I want information.”

His eyes narrow under the mask, “Information valuable.”

In response, she pulls out a sidearm from the holster and places it on the top of the glimmer pile. A nice piece, custom-made. Black market. Runi hisses in her ear.

“Tell me this isn’t your only gun. Ór. Ór, is this your only gun?!”

She ignores him and leans over the table. The Vandal ponders the offer for a moment, then nods. As he takes out a card deck and shuffles it, she hears Runi’s distressed whines over the comms.

“You know what? I take it back, all of it back. If you win this, I’m never gonna complain about you playing with Drifter again. Ever. But if you lose your only gun and get killed in this hellhole, I’m. Not. Rezzing. You.”

She gives him a reassuring mental nudge, at the same time doing maths in her head on how many knifes she could spare to get out of here alive.

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

 When she places her last card on the table, the Vandal’s eyes shine with disgruntlement but he says nothing. Runi, on the other hand, lets out a long, digital sigh of relief.

“Never pull something like this out again.” He sounds as if he was planning on buying Drifter flowers.

The Vandal gently pushes the bag of glimmer in her direction with his lower hand and folds the upper ones. Ór reaches for her sidearm and puts it back in the holster.

“Let’s talk,” she says, trying to look him straight in the eyes but lacking a pair to properly do so, “but not here.”

They slip through the back door she remembered from the first time she was here, into a trash alley full of empty crates and drained ether tanks. Her eyes sweep the area and when she is sure they are alone, she presses her luck.

“Velask,” she says, praying it’s the correct pronunciation, and pulls back her hood.

The Vandal, leaning his back against the wall with both pairs of arms crosses, flinches.

“I hear about you,” she continues in broken Eliksni, “Have no House. Once Dusk, but not like their doings. Want something different.”

She observes his figure as he is considering her words, left lower hand fidgeting with a knife by his belt.

“Who did you hear from?” He replies, mercifully using simple structures, “What do you want?”

“Just talk,” she shrugs. “Dusk hate humans. But you work for Reef people, no?”

“You are not of the Reef,” he narrows his eyes. “Terran. Light-child?”

Ór nods.

“Dusk fight Light-children. But not all Eliksni want to, yes?... And not all Light-children want to.” She pulls out one of her knives, takes it by the blade and reaches it out, the hilt pointing towards him. “They want peace.”

The Vandal stares at the knife, stunned, then glances at her, then back at the knife. After a long moment of silence, so deep Ór can almost hear her own heart thudding, he raises his upper arm and takes it.

“Why?” His voice is softer now. He is leaning against the wall again, seeming a lot more relaxed, and eyeing her curiously.

“Must know about Io. What happening there. What make your Whirlwind.”

He winces, but nods.

“We must fight. Together,” she presses on. “Alone we lose. Alone, there is Whirlwind again. Collapse again.”

The knife spins in his fingers. “Why’ve you come to me? I’m a bannerless mercenary. No fighter, no kell.”

“Your father fight for the Queen. After Cybele.”

“Long ago. Reef is chaos now,” he barks a laugh and gestures towards the door they have left through. “The Spider now rules it as much as the Queen.”

Ór observes him intently. She has to look up, he is towering over her even when slouched against the wall.

“No Queen,” she says slowly, “No kell. But you hear about House Light, no?”

“Misraaks,” he mutters, almost making it a question.

“Yes,” she smiles with relief. “Hear you look for him. As I do. Want peace like him.”

The Vandal holds her gaze. She cannot tell what his eyes express, but it is certainly not hostility.

“Meet me tomorrow.” He makes a slow, careful move with his lower hand, pulling out his own knife and handing it over to Ór. She takes it by the hilt and smiles again.

“Here?”

“Yes. And my friend.” He withdraws his hand just as slowly, then bows his head in a gesture the meaning of which is unknown to her. “My name is Iskaar.”

A silence falls, him waiting for her to reply, but she only nods. They share a long look, six blue eyes glowing dimly in the shadows, until Ór sheaths Iskaar’s knife by her belt and straightens up.

“Tomorrow, then.”

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

With her legs stretched out and back against a jagged rock, Ór is observing the evening—or at least what passes for it out here—settle over the Tangled Shore. In the Reef, day and night are a societal construct, and the only way she can distinguish one from the other is by lamps lighting up and turning off around Eliksni burrows. She watches from above as dozens of tiny lights vanish and darkness gradually takes reign over this scattering of junk and stone. Moaning of thick metal lines holding the shards of asteroids and wreckage together and distant gunfire are a constant hum she’s grown used to. It’s just how the Shore is – always torn apart and whimpering.

From her spot on a rock floating above the Cobble Ór spots an Awoken woman driving off on a Fallen Pike and a group of Dregs chasing her. A Cabal Legionary shoots one of them in the back and he plummets to the ground, his vehicle crashing and erupting with flames. The rest of the band dashes by undisturbed and in a moment it’s quiet again.

She loves this place.

It is chaotic, vast, and full of hideouts. Hunter-esque. But what appeals to her the most is the mere idea of a makeshift space built with hooks and cables and ship parts and rocks and Traveler knows what else, and the fact that someone could call it a home. It seems alive – ever growing, ever changing.

Runi materializes beside her.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’re meeting these two Eliksni, remember? From the bar?”

“Ah, yes…” he twitches his shell and Ór suspects he actually wanted to ask about something else. “You’re not telling the Vanguard, are you?”

She raises an eyebrow, “We’ve talked about this, right?”

“Yes, but… uh,” he sighs, “I don’t like doing things off the record.”

“But you said this plan was a good idea.”

“Mhm.”

“And you know what they would say.”

Ór respects the Vanguard. Sha admires how they carry the weight of the City on their own shoulders, steady and unmoveable like pillars of a temple, how they wiggle and bend but never break. They are not a pair of cowardly zealots blinded by the Light, as Drifter would put it. Zavala is scrupulous and protective, Ikora is clever and bold; together, they form a leadership she is willing to trust, a leadership under whose banner she would gladly march into a fight.

Yet there has always been something she couldn’t quite place, ever since she came to the Tower. For all their welcoming nods and words of encouragement, she has been flinching every time she saw Cyle run off, excited and proud, to report back at the courtyard; every time Shinon sat in an alcove reading a book borrowed from the Vanguard’s exclusive library. Always that needle of envious regret pinching her.

She knows what they would say.

Zavala wouldn’t even try to listen, he’d slam his fist and close the case before she could mutter a word. Ikora’s criticism would be gentler; she would draw her to one side and list all the flaws of her plan until Ór barely had the energy and equally little confidence to defend it. She can well recall the barely stifled weariness in Zavala’s eyes, she has seen Ikora’s hands shake, and she knows where that would be coming from. They were protective, they were worried, they needed to defend this City—this world—out of a sense of duty and genuine love for it. She could not act against that. She would not bear their contempt.

It is a weakness, maybe. Drifter would put it this way, she thinks, but again, he calls many things many names and she does not agree with most of them. To her, it’s a splinter stuck under her skin, painful and festering. A need of appreciation? A call for recognition? There are so many lives all around her, Titans building defences and Warlocks understanding things, fellow Hunters getting intel and cracking codes. Rivers of people overflowing her, a nameless pebble thrusted by the current. The Vanguard still refer to her as ‘a Guardian’.

Maybe that is also why she loves the Shore so much.

It is her own thing; because here, she is entirely on her own. No fireteam to save her hide, no voice in the comms telling her the correct path. When Drifter brought her here first, he just showed her around and that was it—now she musts fight her way alone. And it feels freeing, as much as the dread of the unknown is intoxicating.

Sleepiness creeps upon her as she watches lights below disappear one after another into the darkness of space. They must find cover; she wouldn’t like to be surprised by a Scorn patrol alone on an exposed rock, with her Ghost out.

“Come,” she rises to her feet and gestures at Runi, “have any idea of a spot for the night?”

“Couldn’t your new friend rent us a room?” He teases, and her lips quirk.

“I think he only accepts payment in handguns.”

[amphtaminedreams]

Filling the Met Shaped Hole (No, Not Like That): The Best Red Carpet Looks of Awards Season 2020

Hi to anyone reading,

I want to jump straight into things and ask a question. Which is the best Met Gala theme of the last 5 years and why is it Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination?

Seriously though, despite the fact that I’m not sure anything will top Heavenly Bodies with the preceding and succeeding Met Galas being relatively disappointing (the camp theme definitely could have been taken further and lets not even talk about the Comme Des Garcons disaster), I still get excited for the gala every year, staying up til whatever hour of the morning so I can see all the fashion live. Of course, it makes complete sense that this year’s event has been postponed until October given the circumstances but the chosen theme of Fashion and Duration had the potential to be quite interesting, so I hope we do eventually get to see it; whilst I don’t miss endlessly scrolling through photos of every white male celebrity wearing the exact same suit and tie to the point where fangirls claim Harry Styles to be a pioneer of breaking gender norms because he wore a pink top, I long for the days where we could all temporarily coexist in peace and harmony thanks to the internet’s collective dragging of the Kardashians for paying no attention to the theme whatsoever. We should’ve guessed life as we know it was about to be flipped on its head when they actually turned up in something interesting last year.

What I’m trying to say is that I would love nothing more than to jump back in time to when tomorrow morning’s top Google search would be best Met Gala looks, and not how many lives did Boris Johnson’s fuckery cost us today. So in honour of the lack of trivial content, I thought I’d fill the Met shaped hole in our lives (amongst many other unfilled holes; today the freezer door at work hit me on the ass whilst I was putting ice cubes out and I think for a split second I got all flushed) by putting together a collection of my personal favourite red carpet looks from this year’s awards season and their respective afterparties: the BAFTAs, Brits, Critic’s Choice Awards, Golden Globes, Oscars, SAG Awards, and the Grammys to finish with.

Enjoy!

British Academy of Film and Television Arts Award (yes, that’s the BAFTAs but I needed a longer title)

(L-R: Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy, and Scarlett Johansson in Versace)

I am a British fan of television and arts but I will gladly say it: of all the awards ceremonies, the BAFTAs is hardly the most exciting, and the red carpet even less so. As I said, lots of boring men in boring suits and middle aged women being dressed by stylists who seem to think we’re dead from the neck down by the time we hit 40 and dress us accordingly so. Any hint of a décolletage explicitly forbidden.

There were a few good looks, however. From left to right, above we have Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy and Scarlett Johansson in Versace, who looks so amazing I almost forget that 1). Versace is going down the drain and 2). Scarlett Johansson would stand in front of a forest and take the role of a tree if she could. Which, along with her whole defence of Woody Allen, is really shit-she’s genuinely great in Marriage Story and an otherwise talented actress. As for Zoe Kravitz, she is up there with Robert Pattison as one of my biggest crushes right now and looks amazing in literally everything she wears, and Rooney Mara is consistently low-key yet elegantly dressed. 

(L-R: Greta Gerwig in Gucci, Florence Pugh in Dries Van Noten, Renee Zellweger in Prada)

Renee Zellweger proved an exception to the rule when it came to women over the age of 40 generally having clueless stylists-her dress is beautiful, very reminiscent of the delicate, demure beauty of 50s icons such as Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. Florence’s dress, I actually really loved. It didn’t seem to go down all too well with actual Florence Pugh fans but red and pink together is an elite combo; I’m still firmly on the “surprised that it works but I’m into it” train. I mainly included Greta’s dress for the green velvet, to be honest; it’s disappointingly low-key for Gucci but nice enough all the same.

(L-R: Andrew Scott in Paul Smith, Charlize Theron in Dior, Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta, and Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli)

I was particularly excited to see Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli-yes, I adore her because she played Daenerys Targaryen and I was ride or die for that bitch but also whenever I see her interviewed she has the most exuberant energy and honestly I want to be best friends. It’s not the most interesting dress Schiaparelli has ever put out there, but I like the fact that she went for something unique all the same.

Forest green is a colour I find hard to resist which is why I included Andrew Scott’s otherwise kinda basic suit (points for it being velvet) and Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta. As elegant as the dress is, I would love for her stylist to have really leaned into the forest nymph vibes I’m getting and do something a bit less uptight with the hair and makeup; like imagine loose curls with tiny braids and hair rings and a dark lip and a slight smoke around the eye and...yes, I have very specific visions, I know. As for Charlize Theron, her work with Dior is the only reason I care about the brand; there’s definitely a case to be made here for giving Maria Grazia the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she tries all the prototypes on women who look like Charlize and that that’s why she’s happy to send dresses that are otherwise relatively underwhelming down the runway. 

The Brit Awards

(L-R: Charli XCX in Fendi, Ellie Goulding in Koche, Hailee Steinfeld in Fendi, and Harry Styles in Gucci)

In my opinion a much better reflection of quintessential British style than the BAFTAs, I originally ruled out including any music award ceremony red carpets in this post until I saw Maya Jama and Charli XCX’s looks. Consider me pleasantly surprised by Hailee Steinfeld’s cobalt blue burnout dress, a classic incarnation of the regal bohemian aesthetic Fendi channelled in their 2019 haute couture show. Plus Charli’s emo take on Glinda the Good Witch is also Fendi, driving home for me just how much I love their collections. I don’t know if I’d be sure about Ellie Goulding’s dress on the rack but the simple styling makes it work and she looks gorgeous, and Harry Styles looks just as pretty in a Gucci look that is MADE for him.

(L-R: Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood, Celeste in Gucci on the far right! I’m not sure who the guy in the middle is, I’m sorry and if anybody knows drop me a message and I will correct this immediately!)

Unfortunately, Harry Styles and Celeste didn’t get to pose together because this is really a perfect his and hers Gucci look; I feel like seeing one outfit next to the other would really highlight the quirky elegance of each. That being said, it feels criminal to talk about elegance without including Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood in the sentence; the dress is obviously stunning quality on its own merit, but Adwoah is what elevates it from unremarkable to ethereal. Fuck the weird ass knight figure that’s currently on top of the Brit Award, this woman is the definition of statuesque! Put her on top of the trophy you cowards!

And just to get it out of the way, when it comes to the guy in the middle, to quote Keke Palmer:

Sorry to this man.

Honestly, I saved all the red carpet photos from a Nylon (I think it was Nylon?) article back when the awards aired and towards the end of the photos they stopped including names-this happened a few times when I was looking through red carpet galleries. I reverse image searched where I could but not every photo turned anything up. If anyone does know who this man is, message me so I can include his name. He looks sick, and as far as suits go, this one is built upon and accessorised enough that it’s actually a look rather than the same old variation of a suit we’ve seen a million times before that may as well be the straight man’s designated red carpet uniform. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Neh Neh Cherry in Bottega Veneta, Laura Whitmore)

And now the woman that forced me to include the Brits red carpet in this post in the first place: Maya Jama. Don’t get me wrong, my mind isn’t blown by this dress on its own, I probably prefer Laura Whitmore’s (Jaded do a similar newspaper dress and I’ve resisted adding it to my basket for 6 months now, this is the ultimate test of whether or not I finally cave), but Maya looks fucking MAGNIFICENT. The fit, the gloves, the confidence with which she carries it, it’s all SO good. Considering the timing, this is basically her Princess Diana revenge dress levelled up, 2020′s Jessica Rabbit moment. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Ellie Goulding, Kendall Jenner)

Obviously anything is gonna be a step down from the red carpet look but Maya’s Brits afterparty outfit was cute too, if a tad Pretty Little Thing. 

Don’t ask me what Kendall Jenner was doing at the Brits afterparty btw, because I have no idea. We live in a world where the Kardashian-Jenners just seem to occupy every public space possible and I’ve begrudgingly accepted it at this point. I don’t have the energy to question it-and it helps that green catsuit is actually Very Cool™. 

For the last of my favourite Brit Awards looks, we have a few more afterparty photos-from left to right we have Charli XCX again, Lizzo, and Anne Marie. It was Charli posting her dress on Instagram that sent me searching for afterparty looks in the first place; apparently wearing nothing but feathers and crystals is something that appeals to me, and the more I read that statement, the more it sounds spot-on. I’d categorise it as gothic glamour hoe, and slot it in with the rest of the night-out clothes in my wardrobe that I think I’ll finally have the balls to wear out of sheer desperation once this lockdown is over. The Blossom to Charli XCX’s Buttercup here, we’ve also got Anne Marie looking extra AF and I loveeeee it; it’s an ensemble somewhere between a high-end version of Alaska Thunderfuck’s candyfloss Sugar Ball dress from season 5 of Drag Race (Alaska DID deserve to win AS2 nation, rise up) and a low-key version of a Katy Perry California Dreams Tour costume. I don’t call it low-key as a drag, just a regretful admission of the fact that maybe wearing a cupcake bra which squirts whipped cream out of the boobs is a bit too much for most of us. 

Critic’s Choice Awards

(L-R: Alison Brie in Brandon Maxwell, Chloe Bridges in Azeeza, Cynthia Erivo in Fendi, Florence Pugh in Prada)

I was going to say the Critic’s Choice Awards is kind of America’s version of the BAFTAs but then I remembered that the BAFTAs is really the only big TV and film awards ceremony we have here in the UK and that it’s kind of sad that I have to compare our most high-profile red carpet of the year to L.A’s most low-key one. Getting Cynthia Erivo and Florence Pugh to infiltrate is the best we can do. 

THAT BEING SAID! 

They both look amazing. This is Florence’s best red carpet look of this year, imo (she the prettiest icicle I’ve ever seen), and Cynthia Erivo’s arm must ache from serving the entire awards season. And in Fendi! Taste!

Side note before we move onto the next set of looks: has anybody else watched Alison Brie in Mad Men and Community simultaneously and experienced the extreme cognitive dissonance that comes from watching her play a tragically nerdy (relatable tbh) 18 year old and an overly-sophisticated 30 something married to an ad man in the 60s at the same time? Weird, but anyway! The orange dress with the red lipstick is channelling Marina Diamandis’ Froot era style subtle sex appeal and is a timeless, playful combo. Put the hair up into a beehive and it’s Megan Draper on a date in Cabo-don’t know much about the place but I know the sea is aqua and the sun seekers are blindingly white and the cocktails are plentiful (and whatever colour you want them to be), and all that together is a juicy palette if we’re talking cinematography. The Mad Men directors are out there somewhere shaking their fists at the sky that they never got to consult me on that, I’m sure. 

(L-R: Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Erdem and Zendaya in Tom Ford)

Zendaya’s red carpet look was the stand out of the Critic’s Choice Awards for sure; the skirt I can do without but I hope that hot pink metal breastplate ends up on display somewhere because that is ART, and she is the perfect person to wear it. The Tiffany Pollard “she's so powerful” meme was made for this moment. 

Also, can we talk about Phoebe Waller-Bridge backing up my Dior 2019 Haute Couture wasn’t *that* bad hypothesis? Because unless I’m mistaken this is one of the dresses from that collection and it is quite beautiful. Yeah, black mesh isn’t going to start a revolution or anything but it’s so delicate looking it almost seems out of place on a red carpet-I don’t know if it’s the structure of the bodice or the tulle but I can totally see this in a gothic ballet, whether that’s sensible in theory or not. Probably not. But then again I did quit ballet when I was 10 after months of getting people to near poke me in the eye on the way out of class so it would look like I’d been crying and I didn’t have to go to my lessons after school. So what do I know? Fuck all, in case that wasn’t clear. I also feel a little vindicated by Saoirse wearing one of the Erdem dresses I loved from last year’s collection-if multi-award winning actress Saoirse Ronan’s probably ridiculously well-paid stylist liked it enough to pick it out for her then I guess I’m doing okay in terms of taste levels.

(L-R: Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab, and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

The last few Critics Choice Awards looks I picked out above aren’t thrilling or anything but they’re cute enough to include-from left to right we have Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab and Margaret Qualley in Chanel. It’s kind of besides the point, but Margaret worked with Chanel throughout awards season and I just wanted to add my two cents in here and say that I think she’s the perfect person to collaborate with (also think Laura Harrier would be a good match, anyone agree?) and that in a similar vein, I urge Miu Miu, the creative directors of which I’m sure are eagerly awaiting the opinion of irrelevant Tumblr user amphtaminedreams, to work with Lucy Hale more often. I feel like if girl stopped starring in those shitty Blumhouse horrors and did something a bit more sophisticated she’d fit the brand right down to a T.

The Golden Globes

(L-R: Cynthia Erivo in Thom Browne, Dakota Fanning in Dior, Jane Levy in Steven Khalil, and Janina Gavankar in Georges Chakra)

Finally! I hear you cry! A more exciting red carpet! It’s not the Oscars, but celebrity stylists still pulled the big guns for this one, the Golden Globes probably being considered the second most prestigious American awards ceremony of the year. Plus Dakota Fanning was there! Big yay for me! She and Elle can practically do no wrong in my eyes and are probably the only 2 women that could take on Dakota Johnson and Jennifer Lawrence when it comes to established red carpet style. 

Cynthia Erivo did it again, of course, as slick, as dignified and as regal as she was at the Critic’s Choice. The woman really has got this power stance thing locked down; she always seems so cool and confident in everything she wears that the whole getting dressed up to go out out out (we call going to the club going “out out”, but I’d say a red carpet is a slightly bigger deal than my local club with the sticky floors hence the 3rd out) thing looks like second nature.

(L-R: Zoey Deutch in Fendi, Karamo Brown in Grayscale, Lucy Boynton in Louis Vuitton and Kat Graham in Georges Hobeika)

Lucy Boynton was another of my Golden Globes stand outs, and in general is someone who I really look forward to seeing at red carpet events. She (or her stylist, I don’t know how much of a role she plays!) always seems to commit fully to an outfit and sees it as part of a whole concept where the makeup, hair and accessories are equally as important and that is a girl after my own heart. 60s space age empress is the theme here and I’m all about it-well, either that or a feminine editorial take on the tinman from the Wizard of Oz but the former sounds a bit cooler and does way more justice to how good she looks so we’ll go with that. Quick shoutout to Kat Graham too because she looked absolutely radiant. 

(L-R: Shailene Woodley in Balmain, Winnie Harlow in Laquan Smith, and Zoe Kravitz in Saint Laurent)

The trio above I really couldn’t skim over, Winnie Harlow especially; my America’s Next Top Model grudges aside, she consistently turns it out at every event she’s invited to. She’s another woman that wears pieces with such confidence that they look like they were actually made on her body-even if the garment itself isn’t the most breathtaking in the room, she’s the one that draws my attention. Though she’s got these dainty, other-worldly qualities about her, what you’d expect to be a gentle presence is firm and commanding and whilst the sharp drama and glitz of the dress probably helps, that’s just the way Winnie Harlow is naturally, based on her other red carpet appearances. 

Zoe Kravitz is an interesting one because, on the one hand, her looking amazing with that bone structure (I would trade a vital organ to look like that any day) is a given, but it does also seem like she went out of her way to do something a bit different this past awards season. I have always loved her street style for its trademark edge and the androgynous, oversized silhouettes that she leans towards, and the overt femininity of her red carpet dresses is that grungy, skater girl aesthetic completely flipped on its head. It’s cute, and if anyone can pull a dress as kitschy as this off, it’s Zoe. She’s got that just rolled out of bed look we all dream of that screams “I’m over this shit” whereas the rest of us have to rely on dark circles to get the message across. It’s very weird to think that she and Shailene Woodley were in Divergent together, especially since Zoe in particular has changed so much since. 

My main note with Shailene was just that I got excited to see that Balmain dress off the runway-it was one of my favourites from the S/S 2020 collection (IIRC, mostly on the basis that I’m pretty sure it wan’t haute couture), and it looks good! Not wildly good because I’m not sure the fit of the dress is inherently all that flattering, but still good-she makes it work.

(L-R: Taylor Swift in Etro, Sofia Carson in Giambattista Valli and Scarlett Johansson in Vera Wang)

I know a lot of people online didn’t seem to like Taylor Swift’s dress, but she looks cute, imo. I will say that I’m surprised it’s Etro! At first glance I would’ve thought Carolina Herrera or Oscar de la Renta or something along those lines. And predictably, I think Sofia Carson looks flawless. If you’ve read any of my other posts you’re probably sick of hearing it but I really can’t resist anything that is this modern Disney princess, like powder pink layered tulle? Feathers? What did you expect me to say, ew? I think deep down my clothing preferences will always be that of a 9 year old girl and you know what, that’s okay. Sometimes. Well, when it comes to red carpets. That’s when you can kinda get away with it.

(L-R: Bell Powley in Miu Miu, Billy Porter in Alex Vinash, and Charlize Theron in Dior)

There’s a few things worth mentioning when it comes to the above outfits. Firstly, and most importantly, I need to proclaim my love for Billy Porter. No man is doing it like him, honestly. To compare Harry Styles in his pink suits is unfair. The drama and the beauty and the flair that Billy brings every awards ceremony is on another level and that’s all I have to say about that. If you disagree, I’m gonna need a bullet pointed essay-I am that firm in my opinion.

Second, Bell Powley in Miu Miu semi confirms the direction their PR team tend to head in when choosing women to work with. I might be totally alone here but I feel like she and Lucy Hale both have one of those porcelain doll faces which work really well with Miu Miu’s signature girlish silhouettes and overly-ornate details. 

And thirdly, just to restate my earlier point: someone give Charlize Theron a pat on the back for bringing some life to a Dior design. That is all.

(L-R: Jodie Comer in Mary Katrantzou, Joey King in Schiaparelli and Kaitlyn Dever in Valentino)

All the newcomers really turned it out too, which is a sentence I type through gritted teeth; to call Jodie Comer of My Mad Fat Diary origins a newcomer pains the former depressing 2013 black and white Tumblr user in me, though I suppose to the US audiences uncultured in the ways of British teenage angst Vilanelle is her breakthrough role. And how Vilanelle is this dress too!? It’s bold and it’s attention-grabbing and it’s fun and it is definitely very theatrical female fictional villain that you were inexplicably drawn to as a child before you realised why as an adult-”oh, it’s because she was hot”. 

Joey King in Iris van Herpen was a pleasant surprise too considering that when I first looked through the red carpet photos I only knew her as the girl who was in that shitty Netflix original-having watched her in The Act, I apologise for the dismissal! And I admire the sartorial choice! I adore Iris van Herpen designs but as a short girl, wearing one of her dresses to a red carpet event is a risky decision-I hate to admit it because casting a diverse range of people for shows is something I have come to expect of my favourite brands, but the appeal of a lot of IvH pieces comes from the movement of the garments on standard willowy runway models. Fortunately, the styling is really complementary here, and whilst it can’t be denied that the dress itself does swamp her a bit, I liked that she and her stylist stepped out of the box. 

Kaitlyn Dever’s red carpet look is obviously a lot more typical, but you can't go wrong with a Valentino dress, and this one in particular is so suited to the aura she gives off-it’s young and it’s fun and it’s fresh and the intricate floral print, otherwise muted if not for the spring influenced pops of pink and red, is timelessly pretty.

(L-R: Akwafina in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Celine, Beanie Feldstein in Oscar de la Renta, and Renee Zellweger in Armani)

Lastly, there was Saoirse Ronan in Celine-one of my highlights of the night; she looked phenomenal, a glacial toned dream, and it was pretty different to what I generally expect to see her in. I might be way off base and in need of a bit of a review of her red carpet style, but I feel like she usually leans more towards pretty than edgy with regards to her styling at these kinds of events and a loose fitting, gun metal glittered slip dress is, imo, the perfect way to hit that previously uncharted midway point between the two.

(L-R: Kate Bosworth in Prabal Gurung, Kathryn Newton in Valentino and Sarah Hyland)

Now onto the afterparty looks, and I’m not gonna lie, they’re usually the highlight of the ceremonies for me; I feel like the initial ceremony is all about looking respectful and maintaining that whole dedicated actor image, whereas it seems the literal point of these showbiz parties is a competition to be the best dressed person in the room. Competition really makes people step their game up, and we always get to see more young talent whose style tends to be more current than that of the people we see on the red carpet. 

I’ve got to say, as annoying as I found her character in The Society, I have to overlook that gut instinct of irritation when I see Kathryn Newton and accept how stunning everything going on here is; honestly, she looks like an angel, and I feel like the team at Valentino must reeeeally like her to put her in that dress.

(L-R: Alexa Demie, Ashley Benson in Georges Hobeika, Maude Apatow and Barbie Ferreira)

Obviously I was super excited to see the Euphoria girls on the red carpet, especially Alexa Demie-she does 90s/early noughties inspired glamour better than anyone else on the young actor scene right now and her personal style and the sass she does so well as Maddy Perez shines through every time. Whilst Barbie Ferreira’s look is more casual and achievable for the rest of us in terms of wearability, it’s just as interesting a take on the same period; the delicate pink makeup, hair and jewellery with the 90s inspired slip dress in light teal is a red carpet take on soft grunge for the ages. As for Ashley Benson, she always looks gorgeous and that’s all I’m gonna say before I get emotional and start going into a rant about how her and Cara Delevigne’s relationship was one of the only good things about this shitshow of a year and how now that they’ve broken up the single flame of hope inside me has been extinguished and how their sex swing is gonna get so lonely with them caught in the middle of an ugly custody battle and-

You get the idea.

(L-R: Storm Reid, Sophia Bush in John Paul Ataker, and Sydney Sweeney)

(L-R: Billie Lourd, Paris Hilton, and Camila Morrone)

The Oscars

(L-R: Charlize Theron in Dior, Cynthia Erivo, and Florence Pugh in Louis Vuitton)

Ah, the Oscars. This is where the big money is really spent, and bad decisions are made-in fairness, this year’s winners were a lot more satisfying than usual and I think all of us felt that Parasite was a well-deserved win. I really thought it was gonna be Once Upon a Time in Hollywood just as a bit of a token gesture to Tarantino considering it’s his 9th film, though undoubtedly his worst of the ones I’ve seen, so I was relieved that this wasn’t the case. That being said, it still pains me to see the horror genre being ignored by the academy-in my mind, Florence is here for her performance in Midsommar just as much as Little Women. 

At the risk of getting repetitive, just assume my opinions on Charlize Theron in Dior here are the same again, that Cynthia Erivo is still bringing goddess energy (this is probably my favourite of her looks), and that against the opinion of the masses, Florence looks divine in this colour. I mean, when I say the masses I just mean the people I follow on Twitter, but still, I just wanted be an excuse to be dramatic so that I could insert a meme.

(L-R: Natalie Portman in Dior, Regina King in Versace, Scarlett Johansson in Oscar de la Renta, and Sandra Oh in Elie Saab)

Once again, Scarlett Johansson’s stylist is doing God’s work; this outfit is everythingggg-the Oscar de la Renta dress is probably my favourite thus far. Like we’re talking angel, but make it fitted and sexy, and I hope you read that in the Tyra Banks voice I intended because 2 memes in a row would rob me of any credibility I’m building as a fashion account and I’m not ready to trash that for bad memes just yet; give it a couple of mental breakdowns and I’ll be there. Natalie Portman’s look was a favourite of mine too, with the cape over the top adding a sophisticated touch to the celestial, slightly bohemian feel of the dress. I initially found the detail of the names embroidered into said cape to be quite moving-in a dream world, directing would be my career of choice and so I really admired the statement-but finding out that Portman herself is the only director hired by her own production company ruined that for me a little bit. Then again, multi-millionaire celebrities making performative gestures for good publicity and not doing all that much to make any real change? Colour me shocked.

(L-R: Beanie Feldstein in Miu Miu, Brie Larson in Celine and Billie Eilish in Chanel)

Now, of all the Miu Miu looks so far, I think Beanie Feldstein definitely got the best one. The intricacy of the embroidery, the silhouette, the old Hollywood stye curls-it’s all so graceful. I’d say this is probably her best look of awards season and she and her stylist did a really great job.

And as for Billie Eilish...Guys...do you think she might be wearing...Chanel...by any chance? I’m not sure.

Seriously though, as far as an oversized tweed suit with the brand’s logo emblazoned all over it goes, I like this look. The acid green roots and the jewellery are what make it for me, adding to the grunginess of the outfit which is interesting against Chanel’s prim and proper aesthetic of the last few years. I know she has good reason for the way she dresses, but I’ve never quite been able to appreciate it-this outfit proves to me that her style doesn't automatically equal ugly and occasionally, she can make it work.

(L-R: Leona Lewis, Colton Haynes, Dita von Teese)

Elton John’s Oscars afterparty being the less exciting of the two big ones in terms of fashion-the other being the Vanity Fair afterparty which I’ll cover in a moment-I thought I’d whizz through it (posturing aside though, I bet Sir Elton’s party was a lot more fun).

(L-R: Chiara Ferragni, Donatella Versace, Bella Thorne)

This is a big statement considering Alexa Demie attended, but I think Chiara’s outfit and overall styling might be my favourite of the partygoers; if they decided to do a live action Barbie film in 2020 minus the PG ratio-because lets be real, she’d be a noughties Paris Hilton type and get up to some SHENANIGANS-this is the look that would become iconic. 

(L-R: Ashley Greene in Off-White, Alexa Demie, Sydney Sweeney, Annalynne McCord)

It was a hard decision to make though: I’m just as into Sydney Sweeney’s interpretation of burlesque come 1950s red carpet Barbie, Ashley Greene’s surprisingly delicate Off-White number, and Alexa’s dress and (as always) impeccable styling. That being said, Chiara’s clearest contender here for the best dressed of the night is Annalynne McCord. I know I'm one to throw similes around but she looks like an ACTUAL Disney princess-the dress is magical and an absolutely flawless fit. She carries it with such grace. I'm truly in love.

(L-R: Tessa Thompson in Versace, Vanessa Hudgens in Vera Wang, SZA)

As for the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty, there were SO many iconic moments this year. SZA was the definition of the fire emoji, Tessa Thompson’s throwback Versace was the mermaid’s take on BDSM fashion I never knew I need to see, and I’d die to turn up to my graduation ceremony (here’s hoping for a successful attempt at the old uni shebang this time, lol) looking as elegant and simultaneously extra as Vanessa Hudgens did in Vera Wang. I mean, this was before Vanessa went on her dumb Instagram live corona rant because she was upset she couldn’t go to Coachella and I still kinda lived for her, mostly because of moments like this. She’s always been the queen of channelling a more hedonistic, carefree era and this dress is the most refined example of that boho decadence yet. It sounds dramatic to say but the rich purple is such a bold choice considering it’s a a colour we rarely see on the red carpet but now I’ve seen eggplant coloured silk I need it, lol. 

(L-R: Suki Waterhouse in Fendi, Lili Reinhart in Marc Jacobs, Lucy Boynton and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

Then there was Suki, Lilly, Lucy and Margaret as well who all went full angel mode in some of my favourite runway looks of last summer’s haute couture week; Suki’s Fendi dress and Lili’s Marc Jacobs number were highlights of both their shows and there’s something even more magical about them both when the uniformity of the runway is removed. I also would go on about how much I love Lucy Boynton’s style for the millionth time but I think you get my point.

(L-R: Nicole Richie, Cynthia Erivo, Hunter Schafer, Billie Porter)

The more I look at the photos I saved from the Vanity Fair “red” carpet, the more I come to the firm conclusion that these looks are my favourite as a collective. Along with the elegance and sex appeal of the outfits above, we’ve got all these looks too which are so VIBRANT and fun and experimental. Billie Porter is absolutely majestic and continues his reign as the king of in-your-face, theatrical red carpet style, and Hunter and Cynthia look so radiant. Whilst Nicole’s look isn’t as colourful, she still brought drama with the satin gloves and the smoke lined eyes, and she is definitely ready to step on someone’s neck here.

(L-R: Halima Aden, Ella Balinska in Schiaparelli, Emma Roberts, Ciara)

(L-R: Kiki Layne in Michael Kors, Kim Kardashian in Alexander McQueen, Kylie Jenner in Ralph and Russo, Lashana Lynch in Michael Kors)

(L-R: Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Stella Maxwell, and Sarah Paulson with Holland Taylor)

I’ve got to say, it’s really cool to see Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen too; it’s interesting that as far as I know, she and Joey King were the only ones to wear her this awards season, both being up and coming actresses. It would be a good choice for the brand, probably best known for its futuristic, conceptual aesthetic, to also focus its PR efforts on the young potential inheriting that future. Orrrr it could just be that Rowan, Joey and I have the same (good, lol) taste-not gonna lie, from my experience of stalking her instagram Rowan Blanchard does make some unique fashion choices and her feed is full of bold outfit inspiration.

(L-R: Adriana Lima in Ralph and Russo, Alessandra Ambrosio in Armani, Billie Eilish in Gucci, and Donatella Versace in Versace)

Then there’s Billie Eilish, who is really on another level. This is her second custom made baggy suit of the night, this time Gucci. IMAGINE. Chanel and Gucci making custom pieces to suit your very specific style. Again, though, I really like this; whilst it’s very clearly a Billie outfit, it’s got a level of sophistication, cohesiveness and glamour to it that takes it to that I can admire. 

(L-R: Camila Mendes in Moschino, Barbara Palvin and Dylan Sprouse, and Chiara Ferragni)

Honestly, the Vanity Fair red carpet really belonged to young talent this year, and Camila Mendes in one of my favourite Moschino looks from the Picasso collection really seals it. She could’ve just gone for a basic pretty dress-this isn’t a natural choice-but she really does have the proud, regal look of a woman who knows some man is gonna paint her a portrait that will end up in a famous gallery one day. 

One last thing before I move on, though. How the fuck does Chiara Ferragni get everywhere?! And by that I don’t mean how does she get invited, I had the shock of finding out this woman I followed on Instagram because I liked her outfits and thought she was pretty is a hugely successful businesswoman in Italy long ago. Power to her. She’s a big deal! I get it! I just mean, physically HOW? How do you hit Elton John’s party AND the Vanity Fair party in one night and look this good? God really does have favourites, huh. Well, I guess in this hypothetical scenario where I believe in him anyway. 

The SAG Awards

(L-R: Dakota Fanning in Valentino, Kaitlyn Dever in Ralph Lauren, Scarlett Johansson in Armani, and Zoe Kravitz in Oscar de la Renta)

So, I kinda forgot the SAG awards existed and thought that my post was basically finished before I looked in my folder and saw the one dedicated to this ceremony. My initial reaction was like “oh, this is the shitty Oscars, right?” and I assumed the red carpet would be shit and that I could call it a night-it’s 3:30am, I wish I was calling it a night-but then I looked and saw that I had even more outfit photos saved in that folder than I did for my Oscar dedicated one. Because fuck, I want to to sleep, but the SAG awards had a surprisingly good turn out?! So maybe not as irrelevant a ceremony as I thought? Because Dakota Fanning turned up looking like some divine mythical being again, Scarlett Johansson pulled another incredible look out the bag, Zoe Kravitz was a modernised Audrey Hepburn, and Kaitlyn Dever read my comments about her dress being “timelessly pretty” and said “bitch, you really thought” before showing up looking hot as fuck. Truth be told, I think the SAG awards were first but in this universe where Kaitlyn Dever would pay any attention to my opinion of her outfit do we really care? 

(L-R: America Ferrera, Andrew Scott in Azzaro Couture, Camila Mendes in Ralph and Russo, Caleb McLaughlin )

(L-R: Lupita Nyongo in Louis Vuitton, Lily Allen, Nathalie Emmanuel in Miu Miu, Cynthia Erivo in Schiaparelli)

See, I was going to make a comment above how I took back what I said about Camila Mendes not just going for pretty dresses (which I guess I just did here instead-JUST TO BE CLEAR SHE STILL LOOKS STUNNING) and then I uploaded the next photo set and got distracted by 2 things:

1. How weird it is that British legend Lily Allen, who does not get NEAR enough credit for her smart her songs were might I add, is dating David Harbour AKA. Hopper off Stranger Things!?

2. How mad I still am about Game of Thrones and how dirty the writers did Nathalie Emmanuel (and Emilia Clarke and Lena Heady and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and basically everyone else on that show but that’s another story).

In this same universe where Kaitlyn Dever cares about my opinion can we make the issues I have in the last bullet point not exist? Please?

(L-R: Sophie Turner in Louis Vuitton, Renee Zellweger in Maison Margiela, Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Armani, and Renee Bargh)

(L-R: Gwendoline Christie in Rick Owens, Madeline Brewer in Monique Lhuillier, Kathryn Newton in Valentino, and Lili Reinhart in Miu Miu)

Finishing off the SAG looks, we’ve got the four above. 

Once again, Kathryn Newton was Valentino’s blushing crown jewell; Allie Pressman hate aside, she really is the perfect dressing up doll for the brand. Fresh faced and poised, she has all the elegance and gentle femininity necessary to make floating down the runway as Valentino models do look natural, and Lili Reinhart did an equally good job being a Miu Miu girl. She makes that idiosyncratic cutesy-ness work, all the frills and fragility of a china tea set look easy where I’d just look like I’d been consumed by a charity shop doily. Madeline Brewer did a good job too, helping a Monique Lhuillier design pop in a way that it doesn’t usually. When your hair is bright red and your dress cerulean blue, coral tinted lipstick is a *ahem* choice, buuut in this case it paid off because the result is a look which demanded my attention-ML dresses are reliably pretty, however, they tend to be predictable. Madeline and her styling did a good job subverting that formula. To end the section, though, I feel it’s only fair to save my fave woman til last-probably one of the few people in the world that isn’t a Rick Owens model that can pull off his designs. Ofc, I’m talking about the queen that is Gwendoline Christie. If we’re talking embodying brands, she did justice like nobody else could to the spectacle of Owens’ formidable, out-of-this-world aesthetic. This is her version of the princess moment, and when you’re as striking as she is, nothing less would do. 

At least my girl Brienne of Tarth is thriving<3

The Grammys

(L-R: Ariana Grande in Giambattista Valli, Cardi B in Mugler, and Pia Mia in Julien Macdonald)

TBH, like I said with the Brits, I never planned to do any music award ceremony red carpets, just because I feel like the fashion tends to be more geared towards a younger audience buuuut I’m kinda glad I changed because Ariana looks INCREDIBLE. MESMERISING. TRANSCENDENT. JFC. There’s a reason the photo of her on her Wiki page has been changed to one from this night and it’s because she looks absolutely exquisite, like some kind of moon goddess with an R&B touch which I suppose is kind of her brand? Sometimes I go kind of lukewarm on Giambattista Valli and forget how mystical but at the same time frothy and indulgent and all around luxurious the pieces can be. This is a cupcake of a dress and I want to eat it. Cardi B has become a bit of an unexpected fashion icon and Pia Mia looks as hot-party-girl as ever but I feel to put anyone next to Ariana in this dress seems harsh because she just completely stole the show and I don’t even know if she won any Grammys.

(L-R: Josephine Relli, Gwen Stefani, Jameela Jamil in Georges Chakra, and Chrissy Teigen in Yanina Couture)

Other than Ariana, I’m not gonna lie, there was nothing wildly exciting, BUT I did think there were some beautiful colours out on the runway-plus for all her occasionally bad takes I really like what Jameela Jamil stands for and her style has always been very quirky cool. The electric blue tiled effect with the black mesh underneath kinda reminds me of a peacock, and contrasts wonderfully with the carpet-it’s very reminiscent of her T4 days. She’s one of those people that seems to get aggression directed at her that’s completely disproportionate to whatever it is she’s supposed to have done; sometimes the way she goes about saying things is wrong but the intention behind what she’s saying is usually good. Then again, the internet still despises Chrissy Teigen (in a way that’s kind of excessive considering what we seem to collectively let some people get away with) for a dumb AirPods tweet and I’ve included her too. THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT, this time anyway. I just think she looks good!

If I’m going to get controversial about anything, it’ll be Gwen Stefani. She looks stunning, the dress is stunning, and the boots are stunning. The outfit is not my problem! My problem is how she seems not to have aged at all. This woman is 50 years old! That she drank the blood of her Harajuku girls is the only explanation here. Can you imagine if she tried to pull that shit today? She’d get rightly accused of being a culturally appropriating weeb in about 10 seconds flat and we’d have to pretend to stop liking Cool and Hollaback Girl. 

(L-R: Finneas O’Connell in Gucci, Lucky Daye, and Shaun Ross)

(L-R: Tess Holliday, Dua Lipa in Alexander Wang, Tyler the Creator, and Grace Elizabeth in Giuseppe di Morabito)

Back to what I’m supposed to be talking about in this blog post: the fashion. And here, most importantly, Tyler the Creator looking like a cast member of the Grand Budapest Hotel. IDK why. But I love this man.

(L-R: Lil Nas X in Versace, Lizzo in Versace, and Shawn Mendes in Louis Vuitton)

(L-R: Billie Porter, FKA Twigs in Ed Marler, and Swae Lee in Giuseppe Zanotti)

See in general, the men were a lot more interesting on the Grammys red carpet. With the exception of Twigs, Dua and obviously Ariana, the men’s outfits are a lot more memorable; Billie Porter became the most fashionable meme on the internet, for god’s sake. And even when their outfits weren’t extravagant, they were just more interesting, imo, which is a rare occurrence. I didn’t expect Finneas O’Connell to be the writing half of Billie Eilish (the other half being Billie herself) I cared about and yet, in that Gucci blazer, here we are. 

(L-R: Jessie J, Hailee Steinfeld, and Madison Beer)

(L-R: H.E.R, Usher, FKA Twigs, and Matt Shultz)

Of the afterparty looks, my favourites are what we can see of these more casual outfits-I love what F.K.A Twigs and H.E.R are wearing, the headscarf with the leatherjacket on top is in particular very throwback rockabilly, and I’m even into whatever it is Usher’s got on.

(L-R: Olivia O’Brien, Amine, and Alrissa)

(L-R: Salem Mitchell, Machine Gun Kelly, and Sydney Sweeney)

Now, how to round this all up!? How to relate the confusingly persistent but very welcome presence of Sydney Sweeney on, like, ALL these red carpets back to the MET!?

IDEK. It’s been a long year. 

The Met Gala has usually come and gone before we know it, but with everything going on, it’s been the longest January-May I think most of us have ever known. I keep going on about COVID-19 in all my posts now but I have almost forgotten how to write an intro and outro because the pandemic is pretty much consistently on the brain and unless I have something right in front of me to use as a distraction, my mind tends to wander off into a very anxious place. I think, like many others, I feel frustrated and disappointed and angry with the way the situation is being handled by the people who are supposed to protect their citizens, and by how much of a fight some are putting up against measures that are in place to try and save lives. The point of this ramble, I guess, is that whilst we should never forget what’s going on and do the best we can to help prevent the spread of the virus, it’s okay to still care about mundane shit. Was this post one big long distraction for me? Probably. But if there’s something harmless you can do to keep your anxiety at bay, don’t feel bad for doing it. Contrary to popular belief, you can care about more than one thing at once. You can be sad that something you were looking forward to has been cancelled whilst still being sad for the people who are suffering because they’ve lost love ones or who have been forced into precarious living conditions. If talking about clothes on the internet is going to help you get through this pandemic, power to you.

If anyone has read til the end, thank you! I hope you are well! As always, feel free to reply to the post or inbox me with your thoughts! It doesn’t even have to be related to this post. If you’re struggling with everything going on, feel free to reach out too. I spend too much time on the internet anyway, lol! My plans are to finish my fashion week reviews and then I have a Lana Del Rey albums inspired lookbook which I pinched off the stans on Twitter (who I will of course credit when I write it!). For the time being, look after yourselves!

Lauren x