#the cable is tilted to the side which SEEMS like it would be better but mine for some reason didn't actually fit and would slide out

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

A Great Big Phech-niverse Chapter 6

What if the Force permitted Ezra Bridger to save Tech? Post S1 Ahsoka.

(Eman Esfandi, if you see this, this is for you, dude)

AO3

Wrecker’s scream and Omega’s cry for him cut like a knife as Tech fell. He hadn’t been able to see them clearly when he shot the hinge, but perhaps that was for the better. Enacting Plan 99 was not something he’d ever wanted to do, but it would give his siblings time they needed to regroup before going after Crosshair again. Hopefully they would find him and reunite as the family Omega wanted them to be.

His time on this plane of existence was running out, which proved itself a saddening realization. Tech had learned over the past few months how much more he’d wanted out of his existence. His experiences with Omega had laid groundwork for that desire, but it was Serrano that truly awakened the clone to the living experiences beyond the militant lifestyle he’d been conditioned in. His conversations with Phee had nurtured his want to live the rest of his days without constantly fighting to survive. Pabu opened his eyes to a different way to live, a new dream.

Dreams did so rarely become reality…

Wind whipped past his helmet as he detached himself from the cable tying him to the cart. The act would have minimal effect on improving the exceedingly unlikely odds of survival. However, with so little choice over his fate, there were some actions he could take. Despite his sacrifice being that as a soldier, he wanted to cut himself free of that. To live his last moments no longer attached to that life. 

He had always held a disdain for the proposed trolley problem…how ironic.

As the treetops came into view, something seemed to shift around him. Tech’s bracing for his final moments became thrown off when an opening came into view. It was a dark circle, like a stain or a hole in the plane of existence. It seemed to be directly in his fall path and Tech found himself trying to angle his body to make sure he was entering it. As he drew closer, Tech took a deep breath and tried not to close his eyes.

His body passed through the portal and a tingly sensation traveled up his body. Light foggy skies became darkened and star-studded. A pair of arms caught him, but the residual velocity sent him flying out with whoever had caught him. Tech and the other person tumbled over each other down a strange, semi-translucent path. He finally came skidding to a stop, his arm and half his head dangling over the edge of…whatever he was on. 

Tech gazed over the side of the somewhat glowing walkway at the endless void of darkness, stars, and other pathways below. Not eager to fall again, he quickly righted himself, taking in the new surroundings. More walkways criss-crossed above him with circular openings. When he turned around, Tech saw the gray skies of Eriadu through the portal he had fallen through, only there was a ring of symbols surrounding it on this side.

”Holy kriff,” a man was pushing himself up in front of the portal. “You’re…you were on that car. Why did it show me you?”

Tech tilted his head, taking in the man as he continued to try and form words. He was about Tech’s age, maybe a little older. The way he held himself and his manner of dress marked him as a fighter. A lightsaber at his hip gave Tech reason to believe he had crossed paths with a Jedi or was a surviving one himself. Yet he bore no resemblance to any of the generals nor padawans that Tech could recall.

“For once, I am confused,” he stated, trying to figure out his bearings.

The man chuckled. “Uh, I can explain everything.”

“I would very much like to hear it.”

“Well, I’m Ezra- wait!” Something dawned on the man and he held out his hand. “Your goggles! Oh! Ohhh!”

”My goggles?” Tech frowned.

“We gotta leave them behind! That’s all they found!”

Tech felt his confusion growing by the minute, and he was not a fan. “I’m sorry?”

”We gotta close the loop,” the man- Ezra- explained, approaching him with his hand still outstretched. “Look, we can make you new ones, but these have to stay.”

His tone indicated there was little time to waste. Tech pulled off his helmet, then his goggles. Ezra took the eyewear from him and threw them into the portal. Tech watched as they disappeared out of sight. 

”I have several questions,” he stated as the man looked back at him. “Starting with where is this place? Because clearly there has been a distortion in spacetime from where I was falling on Eriadu to…here.”

Ezra blinked, his hands clasped together in front of him before he pointed one at Tech. “So you’re right about the spacetime thing. Right now, we’re in the World Between Worlds, which is exactly what it sounds like.”

”A space between time and space itself? An outward plane that overlooks time and space and yet is interwoven with those concepts instead?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ezra nodded. “That’s going to be the easy thing to wrap your head around.”

Tech fixed him with a look. “I happen to have an exceptional mind that has been enhanced to think faster than some battle droids. I doubt I shall struggle much with whatever you have to share.”

-0-

Ezra quickly proved him wrong in the next five minutes.

Tech learned that he had been pulled nearly thirty years into the future. The Empire had fallen a few years ago, having been brought down by another war and years of rebellion. Ezra didn’t have many details about the war itself, as he had been exiled himself and a Grand Admiral when retaking Lothal. But the human told Tech enough to make his stomach twist into knots.

“How am I here though?” Tech asked as he followed Ezra towards another portal.

“I recently returned to this galaxy along with Thrawn and his army,” Ezra explained. “He’s got things planned, and we need all the help we can get to stop him. The Force told me to find my way back to the World Between Worlds for that kind of help. Hera put me in touch with a specialist her friend knew to help locate a path in. When I got in, it showed me you falling. The Force called for me to catch you, so I did.”

Ezra’s mention of the Force confirmed to Tech that he was a Jedi or somewhat adjacent to them. “You mentioned my goggles were all that were found…how did you know this?”

A smile graced Ezra’s face. “Maybe you should talk to the person who brought me here.”

Tech sighed at the cryptic phrasing, but followed Ezra through the portal. He was quickly greeted with orange skies and mountainous terrain. There were at least a dozen planets that they could potentially be on. He would hazard a guess that it was likely Dathomir. The planet had been notorious for its connection to mysticism and how its residents connected to the Force in ways vastly different from the Jedi.

“You find anything in there, kiddo?” a voice with a familiar cadence called. “You’ve been gone in there for…”

Tech looked in the direction of the voice to see the owner rising from her seat on a large rock. He was breathless staring at her. The coat and the sword were the same as they’d been the last time he saw the woman a day ago. But three decades had passed for her, evident in the longer, graying locs and lines on her face. An age-faded scar sliced through her eyebrow that had not been there when he last saw her on Pabu. She was so much different than the last time he saw her.

Then she smiled, and Tech found familiarity in it. Her last words on Pabu rang in his ears. 

“Tech?”

“Phee,” Tech greeted, setting his helmet down on the soil. “You’re here.”

“Well, I’ll be,” she gave a wet laugh, her gaze turning over to Ezra. “Kiddo, tell me we’re both seeing the same ghost right now?”

Ezra shook his head. “He’s real. He’s the brother Omega thought died, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, this is Tech,” Phee said absently, her eyes still on Tech.

The clone approached her now. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Tech blinked, feeling his emotions beginning to enact a physical response from him. 

Phee seemed even shorter than him now as she raised his hand towards his cheek. “It’s you?”

“It’s me,” he confirmed, leaning his face into her hand. “I remember you told me not to go running off with pirates, and I did not. But I…I had to make a sacrifice for the survival of my family.”

“Wrecker told me about Plan 99,” she assured him, laughing again. “Guess the Force had other plans. But you sure took your sweet time getting back, didn’t you? Waited until I was all old and gray.”

“That might be factual,” Tech placed his hand on top of the one on her cheek. “But I still find you to be quite exquisite.”

He was truthful in his words. Maturity had not lessened her aesthetic beauty in any capacity and her eyes somehow still held a youthful sparkle. She was still Phee, no matter how different.

“You flatterer,” she sniffled, and the tears finally fell down her cheeks.

Tech squeezed her hand gently. “I apologize for the sadness I may have inflicted on you then and now.”

“Then? Yes,” Phee nodded. “Now? These are happy tears, Brown Eyes.”

“I do believe you once said it was better to be late than dead,” Tech choked out.

She nodded. “I’m so happy the Force decided that you should be late, even if it has been three decades. You missed a lot, Tech.”

“So I have heard,” Tech mused. “Would you help fill me in on it?”

“I think I can do that,” Phee lowered her hand. “But we better head back to my ship for that. There’s a lot you missed, and a lot that’s coming.”

[lightwise]

Plan 99

Short one-shot fic from Tech's perspective. I wanted to show the thoughts that must have been running through his mind as he fell. The love he has for his family. The peace he has in his decision.

After the season finale, I've had a number of thoughts and posts swimming in my head. What I didn't expect was the need to make a short one-shot from Tech's perspective.

Words: 1,238.

Warnings: mentions of falling, death, life flashing before one's eyes. Nothing violent or graphic. Just emotional. Please don't feel the need to read unless you are in the right headspace. I know this week has been very tough and I don't want to add to the pain, but making this was cathartic and I hope reading it is as well.

Note: I wrote the majority of this fic, including the last lines, before coming across @luxris incredible piece that they very kindly allowed me to include here. When I saw it I knew it had to be paired with what I had written. Go check out the rest of their work and give them a follow!

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Plan 99

“Don’t you do it Tech!!”

“Hhuhhhh.” Tech looked down and shook his head, both in resignation and affection. Of course Wrecker would say that. Of course he would act out of emotion, not out of logic and a clear understanding of what needed to be done. 

Tech had already scanned the probability of every possible way to keep the railcar on the tracks and pull himself up before the bomber came close enough for another round. Plan 99–the last plan in their roster, the plan none of them had ever needed to use–was the only solution both his HUD graphics and his heart were telling him. Although even that only had a 78.6% chance of success if he did not move quickly enough. He suddenly had an intrusive thought shadowing the back of his mind–if he did not bring his blaster up to his side immediately, that clear-headed logic through which he interpreted the world might start to betray him. 

Wrecker was straining with all his might to hold the connection between the cable cars, dangerously close to falling himself. Omega stood a few paces behind him. Tech could not see her face clearly but he knew the exact expression of worry and fear it most likely held.

Tilting his head to the side, a myriad of sentences ran through his mind, but none of them seemed adequate. He didn’t have time for this convoluted process. The thought of Crosshair flashed before his eyes. His brother’s sniper rifle would have taken care of this situation at least 12 minutes ago. If he were here. If he weren’t the reason Tech was dangling over an open crevasse in the first place. It wasn’t his fault though. It was imperative that the others had the chance to find him, to bring him home. 

Tech would have done it all over again. And suddenly he knew what to say. 

His left hand firmly grasped his blaster as he pulled it roughly out of the holster, his right still clinging to the cable attached to his waist. He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes as he began to take aim. The shot would have to be precise.

“When have we ever followed orders?” 

His blaster fired, shooting up through the grates of the metal above him, puncturing cleanly through the connection rod–right where he wanted it. His heart broke in half along with it. It was an odd sensation. 

The weight of the released cable car pushed a rush of air down at him as he began to fall. He had never been able to hold eye contact for very long when speaking to others. But now? His eyes stayed steady and wide, gazing up at his squad. No, he corrected himself instantly. His family. Omega had taught him better than that. He knew that she and Wrecker were screaming his name after him, but the pressure of the air tunneling up around him began to bring the blood to his head and left only the beat of each blood vessel in his ears. He began counting the pulses. The blaster had already flown out of his hand and his arms and legs began to float as though they were no longer a part of him. But he kept his gaze fixed on the one thing he wanted to engrave in his mind, the last thought that he wanted to dwell on. He did not have Crosshair’s enhanced eyesight, but he could have sworn that his brothers and sister never got any smaller as he continued to separate from them.

It was a long way down and he realized he had slightly underestimated the amount of time it would take for him to reach the ground. Or perhaps he had not accounted for the weightless swimming sensation that his mind had begun to feel. He had both researched and witnessed the ways in which people met their demise many times, and even the ways in which the mind began to play tricks on you, making time stretch out on its continuum. He was not afraid of the process of death. At least, the physical process of it. Yet he had not fully anticipated the ways in which he was suddenly seeing flashes of his life with both startling clarity and disconcerting speed. 

Hunter ruffling his hair, returning his goggles to him in a stark white corridor after several cadets had roughed him up for his “defects.” 

A Firepuncher poking over his shoulder as Crosshair relied on him for steady aim. 

Echo glancing over at him from the copilot’s seat, sharing a small grin as they heard Wrecker almost trip over Gonky in the back of the ship. 

The feel of his datapad in his hands, the cables and buttons an extension of his fingers, his mind, himself. 

Dirt falling from Omega’s hand as she pondered it with gleefully wide eyes after they landed on Saleucami. The granules somehow stained the white patches of fog currently engulfing him.

The faint hiss of a pod door opening and the wide eyes of Nala Se staring down at him with an inscrutable expression.

As the chill of the air around him began to pierce through his armor, his heart rate slowed, and memories began to overlap and merge together. It was like looking at a holostream, except instead of one program in linear sequence there were dozens of images swarming him at once, demanding his attention. 

Long nights on watch playing games against himself, with only Gonky to keep him company. A clap on the back from Cody, and a bemused, worried look from Rex. Dozens of droids sending blaster shots over their heads, one battle interchangeable for another. A toothpick dangling from long, slim fingers. Wrecker lying prone on a medical table on Bracca, Omega hovering over him. The whine of a racing pod, and voices distantly chanting his name as he gave a calm salute. A pounding pain in his shoulder from Wrecker punching him, repeatedly, from excitement. The shock on Romar’s face as a model 2 data core sprang to life under his steady hand. A sunset dipping low on Pabu, transferring its warmth to the lights that flicked on simultaneously in response.

The brimming electrical activity in his mind and the weightlessness of his limbs created a heightened, soothing sensation.

Grey, churning waves lapping at the window outside his bunk on Kamino. The whirr of Echo’s scomp calibrating the hyperdrive. Hunter’s voice, gruff and low as he looked back over his shoulder. The glancing light of a waterfall on Omega’s face, stained blue with tears. His hand moved to reach for her shoulder, to give her comfort the way he always did. 

Suddenly, all but one of the images faded away. Dark, fluffy curls and hazel-green eyes swam in front of his face, blurring and dancing in odd waves. Flashes of gold too. He thought he heard a lilting, familiar voice calling to him as his vision darkened. “I’ll see you soon, Brown Eyes.”

Those same eyes closed, red and swollen as the seal from the goggles that were made to protect them slipped. Air lashed at Tech’s exposed face and tears slid past his eyelashes and down his cheeks. As consciousness began to fade, he could almost convince himself that it was just a result of the wind. Just the wind…

What other choice could he possibly have made. 

[godneptune]

the colors on my old art are so muddy how

[slasherparadise]

Slashers reacting to a victim offering sex as an escape tactic

Norman Bates

You had just arrived in town to visit your brother, finding the 'Bates Motel' had been a saving grace, you had no where else to stay while your brother's girlfriend was in town taking up the only guest room. Checking in had been a breeze and you recalled the young man that had checked you in, thinking about how handsome and sweet he was. "Norman" You said to yourself as you unpacked your clothes for the night, after getting settled in you decided to watch a little television before going to bed, he said they have cable right? Turning on the TV you couldn't help but look out the window and see Norman staring in at you, you gasped at the sight and went to the door, opening it to see what he wanted but you instantly knew something was off about him. "Well hello miss y/n, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you. I'm Norma, my son and I run this little place, isn't it charming?" You gave him a curious look as to ask him if he was joking " are you feeling alright Norman?" You said with a concerned look, what you didn't expect was for him to instantly grab you and push you into your room. Pulling put a knife he yelled "I told you my name was Norma! How much clearer do I need to be?!" Seeing that he was obviously confused you decided to play along in order to save your life "I'm so sorry, the lightning was a bit off, of course it's you" he smiled and stroked your cheek "such a pretty thing aren't we, be a shame to put you to waste" you weren't sure if he was talking about his sexual desires or the desire to kill you but you did your best to play the part "who said anything about wasting it, you can have me now, all of me" You said as you took off your shirt revealing yourself to this strange man. He looked at you with lust in his eyes as he put the knife down on the bedside table. You leaned in and kissed him wanting to get this over with. With the kiss it seemed to bring him back to reality, to himself. When he realized what he was about to do he ran out of the room. Not to be seen for the rest if the night. Leaving you both scared and confused.

Michael Myers

You walking into your bedroom to be met with a tall figure, one you recognized from the news. You stumbled back and fell on your butt, looking up at his emotionless mask "your here to kill me aren't you?" You asked while studying his body language. He tilted his head to the side as if he were surprised that you spoke to him, pulling the knife out of the pocket of his jumpsuit your put your hand in front of you in defense. "Wait! What if we made a deal?!" He cocked his head to the side once more as if this proposition intrigued him "I have to say, I've always been attracted to strong men like yourself. I heard about you, you know. You were locked up right? Couldn't have had many visitors in all that time, what if you took your frustration out on me? I know you must have a lot, but Michael killing me isn't going to solve that, I can help you." His grip on the knife tightened momentarily before he put it back into his pocket, crouching down to get a better view of you "how.." he managed to say in a gruff voice "I'll let you have your way with me, to do anything you please. As long as you don't kill me. I'll be your willing slave, your sex doll" you were honestly afraid of his answer, if he said no well, you'd be dead. But if he agreed you had no idea what would happen (other than the obvious) . He stood up, picking you up along with him and flinging you over his shoulder like a rag doll, you had clearly underestimated his strength. Though you had to admit it turned you on. Throwing you on the bed he leaned over you and in that same gruff voice from before he said "you've got yourself a deal".

Thomas Hewitt

You woke up to a pounding headache and little memory of the night before, when you tried to sit up you realized that your hands and feet were chained to a wooden table. Hearing loud footsteps approaching you wondered if it was the sheriff that brought your group of friends to this house in seemingly the middle of nowhere, but to your surprise it was a bigger man with a mask covering the lower half of his face. "Oh God, who the fuck are you!?" One of your friends screamed out, which only seemed to anger the man even more as he clenched onto the cleaver he was holding. As he came closer you saw how the other girls looked at him in disgust and fear, shunning him away with their eyes, all while you could see the hurt behind his own. "Don't pay them any mind, their just bitches" you said in a soothing voice which caused him to direct his attention to you. He stepped closer to you in a slow and steady pace, close enough for you to feel the back of his hand brush against your arm, making you shiver. He looked directly into your e/c eyes, causing a red blush to cover your cheeks. You always loved horror movies and would be the one rooting for the killer, so this only seemed like second nature for you. "I'll have sex with you if you let my friends go" he looked at you curiously before pointing at you "I didn't really think you were gonna let me go anyway " he shook his head no, before pulling out a notepad and scribbling on it, what you read made your eyes burn as the tears threatened to come out "no one wants to be with a monster like me" You looked up at the man with a single tear running down your cheek "I do."

[cazimagines]

Hey! 🖤

If you are taking requests, what about headcanons about Laszlo dating an insecure reader that sometimes doesn't think they deserve him because they think they're not smart enough... not like I'm projecting or something 😅

Thank you for your time and I love your writing! ✨✨✨

I feel you on this 😅

- John didn't want you involved in the case of the murdered boys, because after all, he thought that something like that would be too horrific for his younger sister to see and although you did find it all terribly ghastly you wanted to help as much as you could, and rather you quite enjoyed spending company with one of John's closest friends Dr. Laszlo Kreizler.

- You were always John's youngest sister, whenever he brought his friends from Harvard around for dinner and drinks he would simply mention you in passing as you watched them come in. "Ah yes this is my younger sister y/n Moore, bare her no mind, I believe the drinks are this way" and you adored your brother even if at times he seemed embarrassed by you, so you would try and get involved in their nights together but he would hurry you away. "This is no place for a young girl like you" he would tell you, pushing you out of the door which you found dreadfully unfair as you were only a few years younger than him.

- Laszlo caught your interest pretty quickly. He was the most introverted out of all of John's friends, usually standing at the side and just observing the door. But his quiet persona caught your interest. You tried to talk to him in the times John wasn't around to push you away and he was polite to you. He wasn't like John's other friends who treated you like a child, he spoke to you as if you were an adult on the same grounds at him. The conversation could be awkward, both of you not really sure what to say, but you enjoyed seeing him scramble for words, things to say to you.

- After John moved out you saw less and less of him, and you hardly saw Laszlo anymore which upset you deeply. Over the years you became a lady and was soon expected to court and marry. Already you were past the time most people married and people were starting to ask questions. Your family were trying to convince you to marry, including John but how could you ever marry when your heart already belonged to the Alienist. Your life had been relatevily easy, you never went to university like your brother as that was not what women did, instead you spent your days learning hobbies, going shopping with your friends, attending social events. The norms.

- You weren't really sure how you ended up involved in the murdered boys investigation, you suppose as you found out John was involved that was your ticket to involve yourself as well no matter how much it displeased him. Really you cared for all the boys and you wanted to capture this murderer, but you knew the real reason for helping was to be able to see Laszlo again after all these years.

- But you knew you weren't any help. How could you? You were simply a higher class woman with no skills within any of these areas, simply getting involved because she could. You were convinced any day now Laszlo would ask you not to help out anymore as you had no purpose. But he didn't. He allowed you to stay around even with John's complaining. He would often ask you questions that were bugging him, wanting to hear your opinion. Soon when he found John a bore he asked you to accompany him to dinner, or to the Opera, or even to the park to think. Eyebrows might have been raised at such requests, how much time you were spending together without courting but you didn't mind for you were over the moon at being able to spend all this time with him without your brother.

- Soon it was like you were spending every moment with him, to the point where even John was noticing and making remarks which you and Laszlo brushed off. But one evening this was all confronted. It was late at the institute, you and Laszlo had chosen to stay behind to go over some of the new information while John and Sara had left. To help you and Laszlo had a drink of wine, which lead to two drinks, which then lead to three. Soon enough you two were sitting in the chairs in his office, laughing and joking around.

- You were so happy, and as you looked upon him, seeing how bright his eyes were, how his cheeks were tinged red, you knew if you didn't say something now you would come to regret it. And so there in his office, late in the night and slightly drunk, you confess the love for him that you have kept within yourself for years, the love that you have every time he is near and how much you wish you could be Mrs. Kreizler instead of Miss. Moore.

- Laszlo paled and stumbled with his words. At first, you worried it might have been a mistake and hastily you move to leave the room embarrassed and ashamed. But Laszlo was quick to stop you, pulling you back towards him. From his lips tumbles the words about how he shouldn't, how you are John's little sister, how John would kill him. But then his lips meet yours and everything felt right. Everything was how it should have been.

- John got a dreadful shock the next day seeing you and Laszlo arm in arm. He almost collapsed on the spot if Sara hadn't caught him. He had to sit down with the both of you and talk about how the hell this had happened, what this meant for the future, accepting the fact that Laszlo was now to become his brother-in-law. But eventually, he admitted he was happy for both of you.

- Everything was perfect, the case was solved, you and Laszlo were happily married, it was everything you had ever dare dream about and yet you still felt out of place. Laszlo was a brilliant mind, you were amazed day after day by all the knowledge he had, how he was able to help your patients. Usually, when people met Laszlo they assumed his significant other would have the same brains as him, yet you didn't. You were just like every other upper-class woman.

- It's not as if you didn't try. While Laszlo was out you would go into his office and pick out a book, trying to read it in the hope of improving your knowledge but it didn't work. Nothing stuck in. You felt the room feeling worse than when you entered. You would often stare into the mirror trying to figure out why Laszlo decided to marry you because it obviously wasn't for your intelligence. Was it for your looks? Perhaps he felt pity that you confessed your love that he courted you as he would have felt bad otherwise, or could the worst situation be true and that it was because you were John's sister?

- Laszlo came home early one night and found you crying because of it. You hadn't meant for him to see you but you didn't even know he was there until he came into the room. He held you in his arm for a minute, rubbing your back and letting you cry into his chest so you can let it all out. Eventually, when your tears dried up gently he moved his arm to hold your head up, making you look at him. "You don't give yourself enough credit mine Liebling, I always value your opinion and deductions and you are skilled in ways you don't even realise. Intelligence isn't dependent on academic success."

- He knew. Of course, a brilliant mind of Laszlo knew what was wrong without you even needing to say a word. "I just feel like I don't deserve you Laszlo" you whisper and his eyes soften, "I often feel the same way y/n" he murmurs, "I feel like you deserve better, a man who can hold you with both his arms, who can offer you a life where people won't look down at you for marrying a social outcast. A man who can give you so much more than I can. And every day I wake up beside you and I wonder what a truly lucky man I've become"

- Even throughout all of the doubts the both of you had, each of you knew how much you loved each other and with that, it was enough to cast aside any insecurities and doubts the two of you might have had.

TAGS: @shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @wonderwoman292 @justreadingficsdontmindme @thehuiabird @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @zemosimp420 @kadeuuijib @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @competitivepomegranate @welcometothemxdhouse @flutterskies @rumblelibrary @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sky-writes-stuff @rhinestxn-e @davianos-blog @mywinterivy @xxlumos @cathana2264 @ajokeformur-ray @nev3rfound @unbeatablecurlgirl

[prettynxsty]

Salinity I

Sub!Namjoon x Domme!Reader

Warnings: Pussy spanking, Futa/Girlcock, did I mention Joon has a pussy?, cunnilingus, mentions of nipple play, size kink (small top/ big bottom), mentions of spit and sweat.

Summary: This is a product of my horrible imagination as a 2 part impulse piece. Sometimes you just need a good romp in the comfort of your home.

Namjoon only ever took breaks when his brain needed a cooldown. You’d both been so busy that you didn’t have any time to creep up and ravish him like some cunning predator.

His worries of him being too big for you to mount him subsided after your first few times together. Now you were committed to each other for 3 years.

_

He remembers exactly how your fingers dug into his bigger hips when you ground him along your bulge. He was the most drunk he could have ever been, rum fought his inhibitions and won.

You stepped to the rhythm, locking onto him as you stalked forward. You were beyond the ability to hear the music in the club anymore, the rest of your senses were in overdrive. You move behind him, wrapping your arms around his stomach.

He molds back against you, glancing over his shoulder to greet his new partner. Your thumb brushes over a sliver of his stomach as you guide his waist in a manner that was iniquitous to everything outside of you. Namjoon tilts his hips forward, pressing more of his ass against you.

His lids flutter shut, the rosy brown shading his outer corner was beginning to mix with the ash brown framing the corner of his eye. You felt as if you reached a new echelon of consciousness. Your clothes stuck to your bodies in a way that was disgusting, you’d only realize it when the lure of the party drained out of your stomachs.

You lean in and kiss his jaw, his sweat mingles with the pitiful remains of your unflavored lip balm. Your tongue pushes past your lips, dragging from the corner of his jaw to the bottom of his chin. Acridity, salinity, it rolls over the center of your tongue in a way that makes the pit of your stomach tingle.

He sighed hotly, you could almost see his breath become condensation. The air conditioner works triply as it would in any other establishment, but the amalgamation of bodies exchange energy and heat at a rate so rapid that it couldn’t keep up.

You don’t know how long you danced with him, you end back up in the booth that you rented with your friends. This was the fusion of the growing heat between you, it was now nuclear. You kissed him, pulling him forward until he was forced to drop himself onto your lap.

His anxieties began to manifest, planting a hand on the table to move. But you placed your hand on his, gazing up into his eyes. You always seemed to have a cerebral connection.

He’s okay.

His subconscious echoes. His unease is unable to direct his mind to mirror it, dissipating under your all consuming fire.

_

He sucks in a small breath, quickly shaking the thought from his head. He reaches for the remote at his side on the nightstand, busying himself with finding a channel that could be interesting while simultaneously serving as good background noise should his thoughts consume him.

You toed off your rubber sandals at the entryway, shuffling into your home. You held a few plastic bags from the store, it felt good to feel the spring sun and wind. There wasn’t a pill you could take to fulfill the need to go outside, so it felt good to get out when you were granted the chance.

You and Namjoon were both in agreement that clutter contributed to toppling stress and frustration. So you put everything away in the pantry and store the remaining bags under the sink in the ever growing collection of liners for the smaller waste bins around the home.

You dig around in your sweat shorts and fish out your keys and phone as you enter the room. “What are you watching?”

“Friends.”

“Man,” you shook your head as you neatly placed your keys in the tray on the bureau. You set your phone beside it before you move across the room to climb onto the bed. “I just know there are better things to watch at this time.”

Daytime TV was strange unless you were a child. Everyone else was too busy to watch until the afternoon, older people were clearly the target audience of a lot of these channels. Other stations seemed to simply recycle runs of their longer standing and obscure shows through the midday until the afternoon.

“We pay for cable and don’t use it enough, babe. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” His lips curve into an amused smile towards the end, spreading his arms as a nonverbal request for your touch.

“It’s not a bad thing you’re vegging out, you’re always using that brain.” You carefully crawl over the dark gray comforter, throwing your leg over his hip and lay over his chest. You greet him completely, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

The same bug seems to have bitten you, because you birth the sudden thought that you could kill some time by doing something else entirely. Your loose shorts did nothing to hold your dick in place regardless of what undergarments you wore. Your dick rests against his lower belly. Something shameless crawls up your spine, imagining his shirt hiked up to his collarbone as you helped yourself to his pretty pink nipples.

He casts a short glance down at you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He was well aware that you knew your dick jumped for a beat.

You purse your lips together, debating whether you should truly engage in molesting your relaxing boyfriend. Your mind travels back to your agreement that the both of you made. He would have let you know he absolutely wasn’t in the mood when you entered the room.

Your lips lift with a stupid grin as you move your arms from his embrace, scooting backward until you reach his ankles. You lean forward, digging your fingers under the waistband of his tiny black shorts and begin to work them down.

“What are you doing?” He questions you, lifting his hips for you to take them down the rest of the way. He only ever wore those tiny shorts at home, they might as well have been a pair of panties

“Don’t worry about it, keep watching.” You nudge his legs further apart, laying between them and hook his knees over your shoulders.

He covers his face with a hand, seeing you below him shouldn’t have made his stomach flutter like he held hands with a first love.

“You don’t know how much I think about eating this fat fucking pussy all the time.” You kiss the apex of his plush mound. His outer lips are just as gorgeously tanned as the rest of his latte colored skin, plump and warm from being nestled between his softened thighs.

The heat of his cunt warms your cheeks as you lean in to greet his clit first. His big brown thighs squeeze your ears with a shuddering moan from above you. You suck on the fleshy hood surrounding it with a wet noise, smacking your lips as you release it. You repeat this action in an irregular pattern, which is torturous to him.

You purse your lips, spitting a few stringy globules over his pussy lips before diving in to feast on the rest of him. His velvety inner lips swell with blood as you flick your tongue over them and suck on them hungrily. He curses through gritted teeth when you drag your tongue in between his thick petals, sweeping his nectar away like a greedy dog.

The remote in his hand creaks in his tightening grip, he would never get tired of when you had your way with him. You didn’t squeeze your tongue inside of him, you liked to save your favorite part for the very end.

He hadn’t even felt you shift one of your hands from his thighs, his eyes were closed from the bliss washing over him in waves. Suddenly it felt like the breath was knocked out of his lungs, his stomach tightening and releasing.

You spank your hand over his mouth, your middle finger rebounding from his clit. He could only sigh hotly, trying to catch ahold of his breath before you did it again. The sting made his thighs tremble, he was starting to lose control.

You angled your hand, smacking your hand straight over his fat, swollen folds. He cried out, throwing his head back. You lean in to nurse the sting, grinding your tongue over his spongy little love button.

“Please,” he began to babble. He was closer and closer to falling apart.

Smack.

“Oh god.” He pants, thrashing his head to the right as you dug the thick of your tongue against his clit again. The sting of the slaps began to spread his inner thighs, causing them to tremble even more.

“You’re going to break me, please!” Namjoon’s voice was high and tight, a sob. A world away from his rich baritone.

You gently pinch around the hood of his clit and frantically massage it back and forth as you lap away at his pussylips.

He loses his breath, seizing up as he came. You lap away his milky drips of cream, slowing the furious movement of your hand. Eventually when you feel that you’ve lapped away what he’d be able to give you, you run a soothing hand over his thigh as you pull away.

“Ready to keep going, Joonie?”

He takes in slow, deep breaths to calm his heart before responding with a nod.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Hi! I saw your headcanon requests were open, so I wanted to ask if you could write a Loki headcanon who's s/o has a very chaotic family or something, and when he meets them he's really confused and the reader's brother(s) welcome him to the family and he's just really happy and scared at the same time! The reader has she/her pronouns! If you can't I totally understand!

Chaotic family, Loki Laufeyson

You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to write something, thank you so much for requesting this🥺🤲

Headcanons, genderneutral pronouns

Tw: Chaotic family, normal sibling things (play fighting etc.), burning kitchen

- I don’t know about the backstory you wanted, but hereby, you now have four brothers; two younger ones, two older ones.

- And it was chaos. Truly. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the concept of one brother (regardless of age), but it’s chaotic at times.

- Your brothers might have been the epitome of pure annoyance and dumbass decisions. You knew this. Hell, you even joined in most of the times.

- When you first started dating Loki, you had told him all about your family, claiming they were the worst, but still held a place close to your heart.

- He didn’t really think much of it. I mean, he is the god of mischief. What could truly blow his mind?

- Your brothers.

- All four of them were left unsupervised at home. Your oldest brother being the said supervision. But you knew better. He could never be qualified as good supervision. You couldn’t even trust him to watch a cookie for a few minutes. And now he had to babysit your three other brothers.

- But they had been alone at home for more times than once, so you figured they’d be fine for a while. You also figured, if Loki were to meet them, now would be the perfect moment.

- And so you did. Upon opening the door, a strong smell of something burning reached your nose. Loki had smelled it too, immediately looking around for a source of the smell. But you were smarter. You knew them longer than today. They were in the kitchen.

- “LET THE SPOON GO!!” Your oldest brother screamed.

- When entering the kitchen, you could see the fire starting from the oven, your youngest brother poking it with a wooden spoon. Your oldest brother was trying to get him to drop the spoon as your two other brothers were fighting each other with baguettes.

- “What in the world?” You wondered, walking up to your brother poking the fire. “Let that go, you idiot.” You scolded, tilting up the brother and setting him down in the corner of the room.

- “What did you four do?” You questioned them, making your two brothers stop fight, one quickly hitting the other one on his head.

- “He started it!” The three youngest simultaneously said, pointing towards the oldest. “What?”

- “It was him, Y/N! He wanted to bake the toaster!” “I did not!!”

- One of the three had walked up to your accused sibling, pointing towards him again. “He forced me to join forces!”

- “Don’t touch me!” The oldest defended. “I’m not touching you!” “I see your finger right there!” “Not touching you.”

- “Excuse me, but what is happening here?” Loki had found his way into the kitchen, facing the chaos created.

- “Right, um, Loki, the guys. Guys, this is Loki.” You quickly introduced, nearly forgetting about your boyfriend. “And apparently they tried baking a toaster.”

- “It was an accident!” The oldest proclaimed, seeing as no one was coming to save him.

- “You can’t accidentally throw a toaster into a burning oven.” You accused, grabbing the fire towel, trying to douse the fire.

- “You don’t understand! He made me!” The oldest one said, pointing towards the small sibling in the corner, who now faced him with an accused gasp, his hand on his heart.

- “I don’t care who started it, it’s a dangerous thing to do!” You tried, fighting desperately to get the flames away. Loki had noticed your struggle and decided to help you, freezing the flames, using his Yotun form quickly.

- Your brothers hadn’t even paid that much notice to it, too caught up in the argument.

- “We tried to stop it, Y/N.” Your second sibling began, dropping the broken baguette.

- “He was poking a spoon into the fire while you two hit each other with bread.” You stated, turning back to your oldest brother.

- “You’re explaining this to mom.” “I’m legally an adult, Y/N. I don’t have to explain anything.” “Mom doesn’t care if you’re an adult or not. You were supposed to be supervision.” You argued, walking back towards the entrance of the kitchen.

- “I’m terrible supervision!” The eldest proclaimed, to which you laughed. “I know,” you answered teasingly and mocking, “but I’m not the one you should be telling that too. I’m going to the cable room to shut off the power in the kitchen. You four stay here.”

- While shutting off the energy, Loki had joined your side, not wanting to be in a room that now contained four bickering boys, varying from pre-schooler to adult man with 9-5 job.

- “I must say, your brothers seem like fun.” He spoke with a smile.

- “Don’t even get me started.”

[badass-at-fandoming]

Fandom: Ikémen Revolution

Pairing: Seth Hyde x gn!Alice x Sirius Oswald

Tags: PWP, Semi-Public Sex, Outdoor Sex, Hot Tob Sex, Threesome - Double Penetration

Thank you to @voltage-vixen and @xxsycamore​ for organizing this event!

There was no chance to treat Seth for the rest of the night. After securing your prize from the artists market, Fenrir invited you to play board games with Kyle, Luka, Jonah, and a gaggle of Army medical staff, which lasted well into the wee hours.

The following morning you rose bright and early for a ropes course. Two horizontal cables were tied to adjoining palm trees and formed a V shape. Side-by-side with Edgar, you stood at the vertex and slowly, gripping tight one another's shoulders, walked down the cables. While only a foot off the ground, adrenaline raced out of you in waves of nervous laughter. The next adventure of the "team skis" was much less nail biting. Brittney, Amber, Dimple, and you lined up on a pair of skis. Nestled amongst their warmth, you coordinated movement by shifting your weight and manipulating handy dandy ropes attached to the skis. Your muscles screamed and heaved, but your team won the race against the boys. Worth it.

Lunch wasn't much of a break, as the schedule squeezed in t-shirt tie-dying before helping weed local community gardens. You smiled in tired pride at the new rainbow t-shirt in your closet before quickly hurrying to a late dinner, then to a constellation story time, and then accepted an invitation to relax in the hot tub. A huge group squished themselves into the rectangular space, and there was much happy chatting on the events of the day.

With the constant motion, compounded by the constant activity of the past few days, is it any wonder that it takes you long moments to realize that only you, Seth, and Sirius remain in the hot tub after midnight?

Relaxing his neck back, Seth releases a long, contented sigh beside you. He sits with his arms stretched like wings behind him, resting on the tub's sides. "Finally, the day is over."

Sirius releases a breath through his nose. "Yeah, it is."

No one speaks. The jets continue to blow bubbles against your tailbone, slowly seducing you into truly loosening up. Earlier, the pool lights had been turned off so you could better see the stars—they stun like magic crystals in the sky, little pinpricks of power and light. Crickets sing from the hibiscus bushes. The hot water and quiet darkness make the pool seem more viscous somehow, like the droplets are consciously refusing to evaporate and kiss you goodbye.

"Can I tell you two a secret?" Sirius says, breaking the quiet.

Given his background, Seth is very careful with secrets. He guards them well. You know this, because he holds yours. With solemn expression, Seth tilts his head and waits for Sirius to speak again.

What comes out is most unexpected. "I'm leaving the Army after this trip."

"Really?" you say, not bothering to hide your shock. "For good?"

"That's right," he says. "I'm going to go into the family business. We have a flower shop, Canis Major, in Black Territory—or what was Black Territory. We want to open a second location in Central Quarter, right near the Civic Center." Sirius' smile is fond and faraway. "I've been planning it for a long time."

"'A long time?'" Seth repeats, but with a question. His carnelian gaze is quiet, assessing.

Sirius sighs and rubs a hand through his hair. "When I was in school, Lance and I made a promise. He would become the Red King, achieve peace, and ride into Central Quarter to visit my flower shop. After all these years, he's kept his promise. I better keep my end."

"You take such good care of the gardens at headquarters. I didn't realize it was a family tradition," you say. Your statement is trite, but it gives you time to run calculations, to weigh pros and cons; to predict the shape of the Army's future without Sirius in it.

"Yeah, going back generations."

Seth swims over to Sirius. "I'm happy for you. Sincerely," he smiles, quick and fleeting. "As you know, I was thinking of moving away and living peacefully with Nodisha not too long ago. Our decision to stay in the Army was the right one, but it was a decision between two good choices, no?"

"Y-yeah," Sirius says, a telltale red painting his cheeks. His wide amethyst eyes are fixed on Seth's face.

Seth touches Sirius' blush with a wet finger. "Are you telling us this now for a reason? Is it because," You watch, mesmerized, as Seth's pink tongue swipes across his lips, "you want us to appreciate you while we have you?"

Sirius closes his eyes, like he can't bear Seth's unrelenting stare any longer. His Adam's apple bobs up and down. His deep voice is cracked and hoarse with "Yes."

You didn't realize your hands were balled into fists until Seth kisses Sirius, which unclenches the tension wonderfully. Your boyfriend's hair is dark and loose, spilling over his shoulders like blue ink as he cups Sirius' face, breathes into him; angles the connection just so. Sirius' long arms gather Seth close and guide him into straddling his lap. You ache in pleasant arousal—made all the more pleasant from the hot water and sore muscles of the day.

Sirius licks the seam of Seth's mouth, and Seth surrenders with a happy sound. You peel off your swimwear and set it on the stone edge. The lack of constriction lets your body breathe in a new way, and your hands feel freer to play and tease your chest.

Sirius breaks off the kiss and wraps his arms tight around Seth. As a good supplicant should, Sirius nuzzles between the valley of Seth's breasts and sets to work giving equal attention to his nipples. Seth places his hands on Sirius shoulders and arches his back in enjoyment. You hold yourself as tingles skitter across your body.

When Sirius' downward kisses reach waterline, Seth pulls his commanding officer into a hug. "Let's not leave Alice out, hm?" he says, planting kisses on the trail of Sirius' shoulder. "Let me show you how to please."

Sirius groans. "Gentle," you say, as you take Seth's hand. After the pair remove their swim trunks, their erections are so obvious it's a wonder you didn't notice them earlier. You suck in uneven breathes as Seth carefully lowers you onto Sirius' cock. Sirius' hands automatically grab your waist to steady you.

"Gentle and slow," Seth instructs. "Our Alice is sore from today. You really put us through too much! This trip's schedule is grueling even for a girl like me. ⭐️"

Wet, sweltering heat has you biting your lip to hold in a moan. Sirius' cock is fatter and shorter than Seth's. You breathe, and your walls adjust. The hot tub eases the process. When Sirius lifts you up and drops you down, you mewl in approval.

"Good work ~ 💚" Seth praises, but there's an undercurrent of trouble in his tone. "Alice, I wonder if you can outlast Sirius and me? Can you be a good egg and not cum until after we finish? Even if we bounce you a lot? If you do, we'll have a reward for you tomorrow. 💚💚💚"

"We will?" Sirius gasps. He fidgets like a mare in heat, trembling and begging to be ridden by someone, anyone. His thick thighs shake under you, thrilling.

Seth smiles, wide and low. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry. Now: thrust."

Sirius bucks, and you squeal. Three hard and fast stings have you death gripping Sirius' broad shoulders. Instinct rips away your sense, and you slam down. Stunned, Sirius yields control. You set a slower pace, roll forward, and snap back, sparking delicious emotion. Waves undulate around you, slapping against the concrete hot tub's walls. Sirius kisses you like he kissed Seth, like he wants to savor and devour all at once.

Passion blinds you everything until you feel a familiar nudge against your ass. "Do you have room for me?" Seth asks, all sweetness.

"Yes, Seth, oh God, yes." You can't get the words out fast enough.

With a grunt, you're filled twice over. Neither can go to the hilt, but the heads disappear inside you easy. Weightless in water, you relax and take in the gentle tug and release of them in you together.

"Oh my god," Sirius says, words bursting out of him like a blow. His chest heaves up and down. "I've never—"

"Feels good, right?" Seth says. "Three's company."

"I'm going to—"

That's all the warning you receive before the orgasm punches out of Sirius. He groans loud into the night, and slick leaks out of you into the water. Seth seizes the opportunity to pull you deeper into the hot tub and bounce you steady and slow. Arousal dilates and dazzles, and you're scrambling to keep hold, to contain a volcano's worth of emotion damned.

Sirius's fingers caress your sex. You shriek.

The men are relentless, as inexorable as they are exactly what you need. Seth nuzzles into the meat of your neck, and you're sure you'll lose his challenge until you feel his seed surge inside you. Your relief is so palatable you cum immediately after, a rush of victorious euphoria.

All three of you suck in heavy breaths. After all your noise, the cricket symphony sounds far away.

Sirius frames your face with his big hands and kisses you once, twice. He kisses Seth once, twice. As if he doesn't want to say goodbye.

[one-boring-person]

Hey again! I know I just asked for one and I don’t wanna be bothersome, but I saw that Raymond Tango is on your list and I was hoping I could get an imagine with him and maybe Gabriel Cash as well?

Something like the reader works at the prison where they end up and helps them out when they’re jumped? Or whatever scenario you can think of 😁 Please add a lot of flirting if you can

I actually watched Tango and Cash and the Expendables because of your imagines 😆 And I’ll probably keep discovering more awesome movies thanks to you!

I also had an idea for Rambo where the fireworks on the 4th of July trigger his ptsd and the reader is there to comfort him? (It was Canada Day today so there were fireworks in my hometown to celebrate and I got the idea for it 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Thank you so very much!!! 💕

I'm really sorry for the wait, but I hope you like this!😊❤

Tip-Off.

Ray Tango x reader x Gabe Cash (Tango and Cash)

Warnings: injury, swearing, mention of violence, mention of gun use

Masterlist

Finally, I manage to fling the door open, the thick metal clanging loudly as it slams against the wall, announcing my arrival to the room behind it. Gritting my teeth, I crash through it, yelling out to the inmates I know are gathered there, my standard handgun held at the ready. I hate to use it, but I know very well that many of the people turning to face me won't move unless threatened by something a little more dangerous. 

The room is lit with a drab light, keeping most of the thugs' faces cast in shadow as they turn towards me, shouts of surprise and panic filling the air. As if startled by a ghost, the lot of them suddenly retreat into the darkness, doors banging open and shut around the perimeter, many of them cursing loudly as they clear out. Frowning, I move further into the room, shouting at them hoarsely, my head rotating quickly to make sure I'm not being ambushed by any of them. Thankfully or not, they disappear quickly, leaving me alone in the deserted area with two familiar people hanging by their necks from the ceiling above large troughs of water. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the water is electrified, a sparking cable lying a metre or so away. 

"Hey, hey, what's going on?! Don't just leave us hanging here, kill us or let us down! You shitbrains!" I groan in realisation as I notice exactly who is hanging from the ceiling, the two captives facing away from me.

"Are those my only options, or would you rather I tried to get you down?" I call out to the only one of them who is actually moving, walking round to face them.

"Huh? Who're you?" It's Raymond Tango, the one still writhing on his hook. His partner, Gabriel Cash, hangs listlessly, head drooped, blood dripping from his lip.

"The reason you're still alive." I frown, tapping Cash's foot.

"Oh, it's you. Feel like helping me down?" Ray stares at me, fear still bright in his eyes as he shifts in his bindings.

"Don't sound too grateful. I just saved your ass." I roll my eyes, but move to start helping him.

Going closer, I ignore the dark-haired man's expectant expression, bowing so that I can heave the troughs of water out of the way, first. It isn't easy: the containers weigh tonnes, their contents sloshing all over the place as I brace my shoulder against the battered steel, muscles straining to dislodge them. A grating screech sounds from the base of the troughs as they rasp along the hard ground, but I eventually manage to get them clear, panting by the time they're significantly out of the way. 

"Ok, this is probably gonna hurt a bit." I warn Ray, before going over to the knots at the end of the ropes holding them up.

"What is- argh!" The detective yelps in surprise as he drops unceremoniously from the ceiling, landing with a thud on the cold stone floor.

I leave Gabe's line for now, going over to help Ray up as he rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. Untying him, I check him over for any particularly bad wounds.

"Couldn't you have done that a little less painfully?" Ray grumbles as he moves to sit upright, wiping away blood from his nose, groaning. 

"Sorry, next time I'll bring a mattress." I roll my eyes again, "You'll live. Now help me with Cash."

"Can't we just leave him there? He makes quite a nice light fixture." Ray jokes dryly, climbing wearily to his feet.

Shooting him a pointed look, I try to ignore the small spike in my pulse as I regard the dishevelled detective, not for the first time admiring his chiselled good-looks. Swallowing down the idle thoughts, I move back to the end of Gabe's line.

"Catch him, will you?" I tell Ray, loosening the knot, Cash's limp body dropping ever so slightly as I do so.

"The lump'll crush me!" He complains, but goes to stand underneath him anyway, reaching up to brace Cash's thighs with a grimace.

"You know, your jibes would have much more effect if he were awake." I smile wryly.

Ray doesn't say anything, but sends me a quick smirk anyway, knowing I'm right. 

Turning away, I untie the knot completely, looking back to see Cash fall onto Tango, his torso rocking precariously as the latter struggles to hold him up. Rushing over, I reach out, arms outstretched as the two start to fall, Gabe landing heavily in my grip, throwing us all to the floor. We land heavily, a dull pain erupting in my back from the impact.

Winded, I lie there, Gabe on my chest, Ray on his rival's stomach, breathing heavily as we try to recover. Against me, Gabe shifts slightly, moaning in his unconsciousness, making me force myself to sit upright, his head now in my lap, Ray still trying to catch his breath on his back. Looking down at the man on my thighs, I brush aside some hair from his face, swiping away a little blood from his lip, glancing up to see Ray staring at me, jaw tight. Confused, I go to say something, my brow cocked, only to stop when a pained voice trickles up from between us.

"This isn't what I expected from the afterlife." Gabe murmurs, eyes barely open as he gazes up at me, licking his dry lips.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Cash." Ray jumps in, pushing himself back up.

Frowning, Gabe lifts his head, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it again, the sharp response clearly struggling to materialise.

"Come on, let's get you untied." I chuckle, moving to shift out from under the detective in my lap.

Gabe groans, whining as I roll him over, Tango reaching over to loosen the knots of his ties. Once free, he lazily tries to return to his original position, only to complain when he finds out I've moved. Now standing, I look down at the two with a fading smile, quickly becoming serious as I think back over the gravity of the situation. The two notice, joining me in standing, Gabe rapidly adjusting his clothes as Ray wipes blood from his lip.

"Whoever set you guys up has a serious problem with you two." I muse, scratching my chin in consternation.

"Wait, you believe us?" Ray sounds surprised, his rival regarding me with a similar expression. 

"About what?"

"The setup." 

Glancing at him, I tilt my head.

"Yeah, of course. What, you thought I was one of the bribed guards? After all the tip-offs I gave you both?" I shake my head in exasperation.

"Pretty dumb, if you ask me, Tango." Cash comments, smirking as he runs a hand through his hair, betraying his nerves.

"And who didn't listen to the tip-offs?" I tease him, grinning as Ray sends him a pointed look. 

"Hey, I've had a lot on my mind!" Gabe protests, before he conspiratorially rakes his gaze over me, "A certain someone in particular."

Blushing, I wave him off, muttering a quick "behave" before gesturing for the two detectives to follow after me.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" Ray hisses to Gabe as they limp along behind me, a scoff following this as we reach the door I came through.

"And you think you're better? Come on, man, I've seen you staring at her when she does her rounds. Your cellmate practically has to wipe the drool from your chin." 

"I'm not deaf, you know." I sigh, leading them into a side room,  where a desk and few chairs have been pushed to the wall, a couple of pieces of equipment sat neatly where I left them.

The two men enter behind me, frowning at the sight of the small room, confused by its purpose. Naturally, Gabe is quick to recover and goes straight to one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning back in it, head tilted back so that his mane of golden hair falls down between his shoulder blades. Ray eyes him disdainfully, only to take a seat near him, running a hand through his own hair, muscular arms flexing as he does so. It's a struggle for me to keep my eyes averted from them both as I go to the table in the centre and take out my first aid kit, opening it to check inside. 

"Ok, who's first?" I finally look up at them both, my cheeks warming up as I am met with two intense stares, neither looking away as I make eye contact.

"I'll go!" Gabe interrupts Ray before he can speak, hopping up and coming over to me, leeching on the table with a grin.

Shaking my head, I take some gauze and start to clean out the worst wounds he received, which I soon find are not particularly bad, so I move to check that he's not concussed at all. Removing a small penlight from my keys, I hold it up to his face, placing a finger under his chin to level his head properly. 

"Ok, stare straight ahead." I tell him, not quite realising why he's smirking until I realise that he's decided to stare straight at me, blue eyes fixed on mine. Shaking my head, I once more ignore the blush on my cheeks as I check if his eyes are dilating properly, quickly moving to check his response as I move my hand in front of his face. Thankfully he seems to be ok, everything working as it should be. 

"All done." I tell him, placing the penlight down on the desk beside him, glancing back up in time to see him leaning in. Surprised, I have no time to react before he's pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, the blonde smirking as he hops off the bench, eyes glittering mischievously. 

Ray makes a sound of disapproval, glaring at Gabe as his rival steps past, muscles tensed up as he tries to fight back the (very) obvious jealousy. Quickly, he takes Cash's place on the table, looking at me gratefully as I start cleaning up the wound on his head. His dark eyes don't leave mine the entire time, unnerving me a little.

"So what do we do now?" He eventually asks, voice low as I stand close to him to make sure the cut is properly dressed.

"You guys need to get out of here." I muse, chewing my lip as I work, "It's just how we're gonna do it that's difficult."

"We?" Gabe sounds hopeful, though I can hear a little jealousy in his tone. This confuses me, until I realise why: Ray has gently placed a hand on either side of my waist, most likely under the pretense that he needs a hold to ground himself. 

"Y-Yeah, we. I don't think you two will make it out without help." I tell him, calming my nerves as my pulse picks up, swiping the gauze over Ray's head once more before taking up the penlight again.

"And you're offering? Won't that lose you your job?" Ray questions, surprised at what I've said.

I sigh, standing back upright once I've checked his eyes.

"If I get caught, yeah, it will. At least it'll be for good reason." I shrug, stepping back out of Ray's grip, somewhat reluctantly.

Taking advantage of this, Gabe steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on my lower back. Unused to this kind of affection, I look up at him, expression somewhat blank as he speaks.

"You're sure about that?" He queries, searching my face for hesitation.

"Yeah, I am. What happened to you two wasn't fair, so I think it's good if you get your revenge." I nod firmly, glancing back at Ray, who smiles at me, "Look, I'll come up with a plan as soon as I can. For now, you two need to try and stay alive."

"Easier said than done." Ray murmurs, but agrees nonetheless.

"For you, we will." Gabe teases, tapping my chin with a grin.

[popopretty]

Storm Bringer Spoilers (8)

I said I would translate this part earlier and the last week has been a busy one but it’s finally here. This is the part in CODE;03 (I guess) where Shirase finally got over his fear and risked his life to help Chuuya when Chuuya was fighting the skeleton that is supposed to be his “original” (I said so because we never know if it actually is the original or not). For a boy like Shirase with no special power, to throw himself into a battle like that for someone is a really beautiful thing to me. Their interactions here are so precious too. I couldn’t help smiling when I was translating it. I hope you enjoy it too and have a great weekend.

Feel free to retranslate it if you want. Just remember that I don’t speak either Japanese or English as my first language so there might be some mistakes or imperfectionness in this translation.

...

Hey, hey! 

Hey, hey, come on! What the hell is that? A skeleton? Are you kidding me?

Shirase rubbed his own eyes. That was not an illusion. The surrounding scenery was distorted. The abnormality of the gravitational field left the surrounding gravel floating in the air. 

In other words, the gravitational skill is being activated over there. In other words, Chuuya is over there. 

Too frightened, Shirase almost dropped the clothes bag that he was holding with his two hands. He held it back in a fluster. That was a clothes bag, however inside it was not clothes. It was a bag of stolen items. On his way to find an escape route, he entered a research facility and went gold hunting. After all, neither the securities nor the researchers were out. On top of that, in the research facility, there were a lot of jewels used for laser transmitters, high-speed computing terminals and a lot of other things that could be worth a fortune if sold. 

Shirase thought. These things will surely be burnt down to destroy the evidences anyway. If that’s the case, then wouldn’t it be of better help for people if we use it as a foundation to rebuild “The Sheep”, and let it be reborn as military money? I’m such a genius. He was thinking so as he got lost during his looting.

Then he wandered into this room. 

Shirase looked around restlessly. There was no sign of anyone other than Chuuya and the skeleton. Apparently they were fighting each other. He could catch a glance of the pained expression on Chuuya’s face. 

“Chuuya!” Reflexively, he ran forward, but stopped himself in panic. 

What am I doing? If I go to such a place, I will die. There is a limit to how foolish you can be to get involved in the fight between two monsters. I’m not that stupid. I act wisely and firmly. That’s how I have survived until now. 

Fighting is Chuuya’s job. Getting hurt is Chuuya’s job. Engraving our terror onto the enemies is also Chuuya’s job. And we handle everything else. That’s obvious. That guy has power. It’s only natural that he has to fulfil that responsibility.

But Chuuya today is weaker than ever. 

The Chuuya who is fighting right now has wounds all over his body. He has never seen Chuuya like that. He looks just like a boy of his age. 

No, not “just like”. Chuuya IS a boy of his age. Shirase suddenly realized that. 

... 

But still...

Still, it has nothing to do with me!

“Like I care! I am running away. Alone or not! You guys can do whatever you want about those war weapons or the truths of those special skills! I simply want to live a happy live!”

Shirase held his stuff carefully, turned his back and start walking away, as if he was carving each of his long steps into the ground.

***

The weight from the skeleton increased. In addition to the sound of their bones creaking against each other, there was another lower, heavier sound, probably the sound of the floor’s foundation being bent. If it were an ordinary human’s body, it would have become one with the floor long ago. 

“Stop...”, Chuuya spoke with his lungs being crushed as if he was whispering. “You are me...” 

There was a hint of hesitation shining in his eyes. 

The chin of the skeleton made a sound. The eye sockets carrying no lights at all were staring down at Chuuya. There was no emotions there. There was nothing. A complete void. 

From those eye sockets, from that nothingness, Chuuya heard something. Maybe it was just his imagination. But he couldn’t stop one word from popping up inside his brain. A meaningless word that seemed to be coming out from those white bones. 

”You were supposed to be like this."

“You are... me.” Chuuya said, glaring at the skeleton that had drifted so far from humanity, unaware of what he himself was saying. “If that’s the case, who in the world am I...?” 

The gravity got even stronger. The face of the skeleton which looked like death itself drew closer in front of his eyes. At that moment, someone shouted. 

“Ahhhhhhhhh!!” 

Someone just threw themselves at the skeleton and sent it flying to the side. The skeleton and that person rolled on the floor together. Chuuya opened his eyes wide. He knew the person. 

“Shirase...?” 

Shirase, who just rolled over, stood up and screamed in a squeaky, inarticulate voice. The skeleton that was using up all of its gravity to push down on Chuuya, was powerless to the attack from the side. Its elbow bone was dislocated from the impact. But that had little effects on its movements. It opened its jaw, trying to bite Shirase to death.

Shirase raised his clothes bag, which the skeleton bit right into. There were sounds of high-value jewels and electronic devices breaking inside, but the hardness of jewels had won against that of bones and iron. The lower jaw of the skeleton cracked vertically.

“Stupid Shirase! Run!” 

“Aaaaaaaa!!” 

Shirase shook his two arms with his eyes closed. His arms accidentally got caught in a transfusion tube connected to the skeleton’s spines. The tube came off and a black and blue chemical solution spilled out from inside. The skeleton suddenly tilted and stopped moving for a few seconds.

Chuuya noticed that. He screamed, “Shirase! Pull out those cables! All of them!”. 

Shirase was still waving his arms around incomprehensibly but after a short pause, he came to understand the meaning of that instruction. He rolled around, covered in chemicals, and grabbed all the cords and tubes that were dragging around like tails. He pulled them in and pulled out everything at once.

The bundle of cables leading to the next room were pulled out of the skeleton’s spine. 

The skeleton let out a scream. A body made out of bones only does not have a vocal organ. Its throat cannot vibrate to scream. That was the sound of gravity and the vanishing power of the skills that shook the bones and resonated like a musical instrument. It was the resonant sound of a scream that can take your soul away.

It sounded like a young boy crying in agony on the verge of death.

Eventually, the skeleton that had lost its instruction system and its source of energy supplies fell to the floor headfirst, breaking at its waist. Losing the gravity that was keeping its body together physically, it crumbled into pieces. Furthermore, the cracks from the attacks stared spreading through its body and it ended up breaking into countless fragments before vanishing.

 And just like that, the skeleton disappeared. Like nothing was ever there from the beginning. 

Chuuya was watching over it in shock, before he finally stood up. 

“Shirase.” 

Chuuya looked at Shirase while holding his side. 

“What?” 

Chuuya stared at Shirase as if he was trying to say something. He looked at Shirase who was covered in dirt, mud and the black and blue chemicals for a few seconds, then said.

“You look hella dirty now.” 

“Shut up!” 

Chuuya held out his hand. Shirase grabbed that hand and got up. 

“Let’s go. We need to meet up with Adam first.” 

“’kay.” 

Shirase and Chuuya walked alongside each other. Shirase took a quick glance at Chuuya. He was covered in wounds, dirt and blood. There were countless bruises and his side was still bleeding.

“Hey Chuuya.” 

Chuuya turned around. Shirase’s expression showed that there was something he had to say, something he had to apologize for. 

Chuuya waited silently. Then Shirase said. 

“You look hella dirty right now.”

Chuuya laughed with his eyes downcast, “Shut up!”.

....

[nalgenewhore]

margot

elide x lorcan + margot (new child), modern au, domestic fluff + meeting the children, word count: 2345

He parked behind her car and Lorcan slowly turned the engine off, but not the vehicle itself. He didn’t move to get out, only glanced at her quaint two-storey home. 

It suited her, the simple layout and lush garden taking over the front yard. There were seemingly rows and rows of box planters, growing various vegetables and fruit bushes. On the porch, there was a swing he could picture her sitting on, rocking back and forth with a book in hand. 

The lights were on and Lorcan looked up, seeing the light on behind the dormer window, too.

He exhaled slowly and rubbed his palms over his thighs, his hands shaking. 

He was meeting her daughter tonight and Lorcan didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous for anything in his life. 

They were supposed to have dinner at six. Lorcan looked at the clock, which told him that he was early – thirteen minutes, to be exact. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the headrest, trying to stay calm. He remembered being introduced to his mom’s girlfriend when he was young and how nervous he’d been then, scared that his mom would forget about him and his sisters like his father had when he met his now-wife. 

The ringing of his phone startled in the pure silence of his truck and he picked up before he knew who was calling. “‘llo?”

“So… are you planning on staying in your truck for the rest of the night? It’s lovely, but I don’t think Margot wants to eat there.” 

Lorcan chuckled raspily and looked to the side, seeing Elide standing behind the large window. She waved at him and he huffed another laugh. “I’m early, Lee. I was just… waiting.” 

His girlfriend hummed, “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,��� he replied drily. “Wouldn’t you be?” 

Elide laughed lightly, “Probably. Just come up already, will you? She’s been looking forward to this all day. She changed her outfit three times and told her friends she was meeting you tonight.”

“Really? You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better?” 

“Of course not. Now,” Elide said, “stop being a little wuss and come in. I’m pretty sure she’s been watching you from her room.”

Lorcan’s eyes snapped up to the dormer and the curtain quickly fell shut. He grinned gently. “Ok. I’ll come up.” 

“Bon. Je t’adore.”

“I love you too,” he told her. They both hung up and Lorcan turned his car off. He climbed out, shoving his hands into his pockets. He’d asked if he should bring something for Margot, but Elide told him she’d probably think he was trying to bribe her. Lorcan had commented that she was just like her mother then and her pleased grin had warmed his heart. 

Lorcan walked up the stone pathway, his gait slow, but his steps long. He walked up the steps, of which there were only three, and knocked on the door, taking a step back as he waited for it to be opened. 

A moment or two later, Elide opened the door and smiled at him, “Salut, mon cher.” She stepped out and cupped his face, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Lorcan squeezed her waist once as she pulled away. “Come in.” She pushed the door open wider to let him in. 

Lorcan paused to take off his shoes and hang his jacket up. As he did, he eyed Elide, who was wearing a figure-hugging black cashmere sweater and a midi skirt – black with small red flowers. Her hair was in a simple twist and she wore the single ruby necklace he’d bought for her birthday in June, four months ago. 

Elide took his hand and walked him to the kitchen, gesturing him to a barstool. Lorcan sat down and tapped his finger against the butcher block island top. She noticed his fidgeting and hid her own nerves by checking the pot-au-feu for what seemed like the thousandth time. Margot was a… particular child. People often told her that her daughter was just like her. 

She turned back and poured them both glasses of wine. She took a sip of hers and walked around the island to the stairs. Before she left, she kissed him once more, longer and slower than the last. “Ça ira, oui?” Elide patted his cheek and walked to the stairs, her hips swinging side to side. 

His dark eyes watched the stairs. His heart pounded harder and harder against his chest. 

“Margot, viens ici, ma p’tite, s’il vous plaît."

From the second floor, Lorcan heard a little voice call back, “D’accord, maman!” A pair of footsteps ran across the ceiling and clambered down the staircase. 

Elide faced Lorcan and grinned, winking once. Behind her, a child appeared. She stopped and continued on slowly, her angular eyes on Lorcan. A pair of round glasses sat on the tip of her button nose and she pushed them up with a single finger. Her hair was dark, thick, and wavy like her mother’s, but cut into a short bob with bangs. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” Lorcan said, not sure whether he should stand or not. 

Before he could, the child marched across the floor and stood in front of him, staring wordlessly. She wore a pair of fern green corduroy overalls and a lavender cable knit sweater, matching the headband she wore. “Are you dating my mom?”

He raised his brows and nodded, “Yes, I am.”

Margot climbed onto the stool next to him and crossed her arms, looking at him suspiciously, “For how long?” 

“Mm… a year, almost.”

Her eyes were perceptive and probably too knowing for an eight-year old. “Hmm. Do you love my mom?” 

Lorcan chuckled and glanced up at Elide, who smiled supportively. She really is just like you. “Yes, I love her very much.” 

“...ok. That’s good.” She stuck her hand out, “I’m Margot.” 

His hand dwarfed hers as they shook hands, “It’s nice to meet you, Margot. I’m Lorcan.” 

Elide grinned fondly at the interaction and moved to the kitchen to pour Margot something to drink. She set a glass of water down in front of her daughter and leaned her elbows against the counter, resting her chin on her fist. 

“What do you do for your job?”

Lorcan put his glass down and clasped his hands, resting his elbow on the island. “I’m a doctor.”

Margot’s eyes widened, “Really?” Her brows shot up and she whispered, “Do you get to cut people up?” 

He chuckled, “Sometimes. I’m a trauma surgeon.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she cocked her head to the side, pushing her glasses up again, “What’s that?” 

“Well, when there are big accidents, we bring the injured people into the emergency room and I…” Lorcan looked at Elide, deciding on a less gruesome version of ‘I patch them up so they don’t die’, “figure out what’s wrong with them and then I fix them so they’re stable. After that we can send them to specialists.” 

“That sounds cool.” 

“Yeah? It’s kinda scary sometimes, but I like it.” 

“Mom tells them that scary things can be good, though,” Margot told him, nodding her chin. Lorcan smiled, delighted by her… precociousness. He’d never met a child who truly fit the term like Margot did. “Do you like to read books?”

He nodded, “I do, but I don’t get a lot of time to read.” Lorcan glanced at Elide, who was struggling to reach plates from up high. He stood up and went to her, resting his hand on her lower back as he hardly had to stretch his arm up to fetch them. Elide looked up at him and bit her lip, wanting to kiss him, but knowing that the extremely observant Margot was watching them. 

She settled for picking invisible lint off of the collar of his shirt. Lorcan’s eyes glittered with quiet joy and he pressed his lips together, looking back at Margot. Elide stepped away first and waved her hand to the bread sitting on the counter, untouched. “Um, le pain, est-ce que tu peux le cut it?”

He laughed quietly at her mixture of the common tongue and the Blackbeak dialect of Ironteeth. “Yeah, ‘course.” Lorcan washed his hands and dried them before picking up the bread. He put it on the island and glanced at Margot, pausing at her wide wide wide eyes. “Is… something wrong, Margot?” 

She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. Margot fixed her glasses, which were surely too large for her. “T’es très, très grand.” 

Lorcan frowned slightly, turning to Elide, who snorted and covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. She waved her hand, “She- she said you were really, really tall.” 

He looked back at Margot, whose cheeks were furiously red. An amused grin stole across his face and he leaned across the island, whispering, “It’s ok, Margot. Your mom is just really small.” 

Margot giggled and her blush faded, but her eyes – monolid like her mother’s – sparkled with delight. 

Elide looked over at them suspiciously, popping her hand on her hip. “What’s going on over here? Conspiration and the like?” 

Lorcan gasped dramatically, gesturing between him and Margot, “Us? Conspiring? Against you? Please. We would never, would we, Margot?” He looked at her and winked before schooling his face into neutrality. 

Margot copied him perfectly and looked at her mother, blinking calmly. “Jamais, maman.” Elide just rolled her eyes and went back to what she was doing. 

“So, Margot, do you like to read?” Lorcan pulled the drawer open and took a serrated knife out for the bread. 

She nodded, “Yeah, I read a lot. I like it when it’s quiet.” 

“I like quiet too. Are you reading anything right now?”

“Yeah, my aunt Manon got me The Sisters Grimm and I like them a lot.” Margot reached over and took the heel of bread, making sure to keep her fingers away from the sharp knife. She picked at it and told him about the adventures of the sisters, long-lost descendants of the Brothers Grimm, whose books of so-called fairytales were actually history books. 

They set the table together and Margot made sure that the utensils were perfectly neat. She took her seat at the table and swung her legs out as Elide served them all bowls of the hearty stew and Lorcan carried their bowls to the table. He and Elide sat on the opposite side of Margot.

They ate together and Margot went back to questioning Lorcan. 

“Where are you from? My mom is from Perranth.” 

He swallowed his bite of food, “I’m from a small town in the Northern Isles.” 

“Where’s the Northern Isles? Is it in Wendlyn?”

Lorcan tilted his head to the side, “No, we’re not part of Wendlyn or Doranelle. We’re all the way up north.”

“Are you near the arctic land? I bet it’s cold there.” 

Subtly, under the table, Elide reached for his hand and slid her fingers through his. Lorcan ducked his head for a moment to hide his smile. “It can be pretty cold, but we’re still pretty far away.” 

Margot picked up her glass and had a sip of water, “My aunt Asterin told me that sometimes it’s dark all the time and sometimes it’s always sunny, but I don’t believe her since she likes to play tricks on people.”

Lorcan chuckled, “Well it is true.” Margot snapped her head up, gasping incredulously. He grinned. “In the winter, it’s dark all the time and in the summer, the sun’s always up.” 

“How do you sleep in the summer if it’s sunny always?”

“We have special curtains and blinds. You get used to it,” Lorcan told her. 

“Well I think it would be cool to have sun all the time.” Margot ate a bit more and tucked her feet behind the legs of her chair. “Do you have any pets?”

Lorcan nodded, “I do. I have a Husky and her name is Tallulah. D’you like dogs?”

“Sometimes, but I like cats better.” Margot glanced at Elide and addressed Lorcan once more, her tone cautious, “Can… can I meet your dog one day?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

The eight-year old beamed and Elide squeezed Lorcan’s hand. 

The rest of their meal went by quickly and Margot helped stack their dishes above the dishwasher. She waved her hand for Lorcan to follow and he did after shooting Elide a hopeful look. 

She likes me, right?

Her wide grin was answer enough and they dutifully followed Margot to the living room. She directed Lorcan to the velvet wingback chair and her mother to the couch. Elide sat in the corner closest to him as Margot selected a movie and took the seat next to Elide, her eyes on the TV screen. 

They watched The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. Margot helpfully commented on the various fantastical creatures and beings, while telling them about her favourite character - Lucy, of course. 

Near the end, she started to nod off, falling asleep against Elide’s side. 

Elide lowered the volume, but didn’t dare turn the movie off, knowing that Margot would wake up the second it stopped playing. She held her hand out to Lorcan, who took it and kissed the back of it. 

Eventually, it ended and Elide carefully got up, gathering Margot up in her arms as well. The child’s head rested against her shoulder. Elide looked at Lorcan, whispering, “Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

He nodded and stayed still, his heart almost cracking as Elide murmured something gentle to Margot. 

“Maman,” said a hoarse voice. Margot slowly lifted her head and pushed her glasses up to rub her eyes. She peered over Elide’s shoulder and waved shyly at Lorcan, who smiled back at her. “Maman, j’veux lui revoir.” 

“Ah, oui? Vas-y, dit-lui.”

Margot looked at Lorcan, whose heart started to thunder against his ribcage. “You can come over again.”

Lorcan grinned, “Really?”

She nodded shyly. “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I’d like that.”

<3<3<3

an: new baby, new baby, new baby !! 

translations: Bon. Je t'adore: Good. I love you (romantic) Salut, mon cher: Hello, my dear. Ça ira, oui: it will be fine, yes? Viens ici, ma petite, s'il vous plaît: Come here, little one, please D'accord, maman: Ok, mom Le pain, est-ce que tu peux: The bread, can you [cut it] T'es très, très grand: You are really, really tall Jamais, maman: Never, mom Maman, je veux lui revoir: Mom, I want to see him again Ah, oui? Vas-y, dit-lui: Oh, yeah? Go ahead, tell him

@mythicaitt​ @eyllweambassador​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @ladyverena​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae�� @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts​ @maastrash​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @b00kworm​ @hizqueen4life​ @silversprings98​ @amren-courtofdreams​ @jadeaffliction​ @superspiritfestival​ @sanakapoor​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @spyofthenightcourt​ @thegoddessofyou​ @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx​ @claralady​ @neonhellas​ @darlinminds​ @readingismyonlyhobby​ @autophobiaxx​ @myshadowsingeraz​ @firestarsandseneschals​ @elriel4life​ @always-in-a-daydream​ @jlinez @ladywitchling​ @mariamuses​ @darklesmylove​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @sassyhobbits​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @januarystears​ @flamingveritas

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling pt. III - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, implied smut (nothing explicit), kinda angsty, kinda fluffy Word Count: 2.3k Summary: this is part three: Spencer has a habit of showing up at your door in the middle of the night. A/N: italics are memories/flashbacks. also sorry this took so long omg!!

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

-

The case concluded a couple of days later. Days which consisted of ignoring Spencer; unless absolutely necessary. Days spent trying not to look at him, days spent pretending you weren't thinking about him, his touch, or that night you spent together.

It was incredibly hard to concentrate on quite literally anything. 

The night you got home from the work trip was a sleepless one. You tossed and turned, anxious about seeing the brunette doctor the next day. You couldn't help but wonder how the two of you will act around one another now that you were back on common ground. How your dynamic will be now that you weren't working a case. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that you weren't the only one feeling restless. A knock on your door caused you to hop out of bed and wander towards it. Letting a yawn escape your lips you looked through the peephole to check who was on the other side. Spencer.

Quickly, you opened the door. The young doctor looked up from the ground and greeted you with a timid smile. 

“Spencer, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know it’s late but-” He cleared his throat. “-can we please talk?” He asked while staring deep into your eyes. You nodded after a brief moment and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. 

Spencer sat down on the couch, glancing around your apartment in the process. The place wasn’t fully decorated yet. A number of cardboard boxes were stacked on top of one another in the corner of the living room, clearly still full. The TV lay on the floor, cables tangled, and beside it was a half-opened suitcase with your go-bag thrown hastily on top. 

You asked if he wanted a coffee, or anything else to drink, but he politely shook his head ‘no’ so you situated yourself on the opposite end of the couch and waited for him to tell you why he was here.

Silence enveloped around the room. Suddenly afraid to say anything, in case it ended up in another argument, the brunette doctor nervously fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. You were slightly taken aback by his nervous demeanour, it was completely different to the way he acted around you the last week.

It reminded you of when you were younger. The shy, awkward, slightly closed-off Spencer. The guy who wouldn’t hold your hand or at time was afraid to meet your gaze, the guy that didn’t understand the sarcastic jokes you made. It made your heart ache a little.

Finals were approaching and they were approaching fast. Everyone said law school would be hard. Long hours, extensive curriculum, sleepless nights, projects, essays, case-studies. The list goes on.

It didn't help that you were a lot younger than your fellow classmates. Being an ambitious and driven kid you managed to skip a few grades and get an undergraduate degree in psychology at a very young age. Law school seemed like the logical next step although now you were thinking about giving up.

With junior year coming to an end, you constantly wondered whether this should be the end of your law career. Perhaps there was something better out there for you. Something easier, and not as draining. You weren't a quitter, far from it, but this was too much for a single person to handle.

It was Friday night, and yet currently you were curdled up on the library floor rather than at some frat party. Piles on piles of books and encyclopaedias formed around you as you worked away on your end of term paper. 

A not so quiet yawn escaped your lips. Followed by another. Leaning back against the shelf behind you, you closed your eyes. Honestly, you could fall asleep here, now. 

It was in that moment of silence you heard a shuffling sound approaching your location between the aisles of books. Slowly, you flushed your eyes back open to analyse your surroundings - see who it was that disturbed your peace. 

A scrawny boy stood just a few feet away, deeply focused on the collection of titles in front of him. The boy was around your age. Tall. You could see remains of gel in his short brown hair; which was now quite messy. He was dressed in a slightly oversized sweater, underneath he wore what looked like a neatly ironed shirt, and a dark bag was draped loosely over his shoulder. 

“Hello.” You said. His head instantly snapped in your direction. 

“H-hi.” He replied sheepishly. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.” His soft demeanour made you smile. “Oh, I wasn't actually sleeping. Just resting my eyes for a second.” 

The boy nodded. You waited for him to say something but he didn't so you reached out your hand. 

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” 

His gaze travelled to your hand before moving back up to meet yours. He didn't move any closer, and you could sense he grew a little uncomfortable, so you let your hand fall down to your lap.

“I’m Spencer.” He cleared his throat. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Your eyes widened a little at his esteemed title. “Doctor?” 

Spencer’s nose twitched gently. 

“I have Ph.D’s in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.” He retorted causing your mouth to part in shock. “Holy shit.” Pause. “Wow, and here I thought I was the resident genius having one silly undergraduate degree.” You joked; but the young doctor didn't laugh. He simply stared at you, a kind look spread across his face.

“W-what are you studying now?” Spencer asked, motioning to the stakes of books around you.

“I’m in law school.” You replied. “Failing miserably to write my stupid end of term paper.” Sigh. “One of many actually.” 

Spencer took one step forward. “M-maybe I can help?” He offered. “That is really kind of you but unless you have a law degree you haven’t mentioned yet, I don't know how you would be able to help.” 

“I don’t have a law degree, but I have an eidetic memory.” He said, nervously tugging at the strap of his bag. “I-if that’s of any help to you.” 

The smile on your face grew wider. “Well Spencer, now you’re just showing off.” 

It was at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such ease, the brunette doctor finally smiled. And holy smokes did he have a pretty smile. Your heart skipped a beat as his face illuminated. 

“But you convinced me.” You added while getting up on your feet. You picked up your things along with as many books as you could carry. Spencer shuffled toward you, and while keeping his distance, he bent down to pick up the remaining items. 

“Why are you here Spencer?” You finally asked breaking the silence.

The brunette agent tilted his head in your direction, eyes locking with yours once again causing the air to catch briefly in your chest.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that what happened between us the other night, that wasn’t some ploy to get you to stay.” He stated. “I tried to explain that to you but you never really gave me a chance.” Pause. “Y/N, I want you to stay. Not for me but because you deserve to be a part of this team.”

“I appreciate you saying that Spencer. Truly.” A small smile graced your facial features. The brunette doctor smiled down at his hands. “But you didn’t have to come here in the middle of the night to tell me that. It could have waited.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Spencer smirked before clearing his throat. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. “I guess I just wanted to see you.” You bit down on your bottom lip the second he said that, your heart skipping a beat. Spencer shifted closer to you. Without really thinking about it, you also moved in his direction. Your knees now touching. 

“You know, communication was never our strong suit. For two people with psychology degrees you would think we’d be better at it.” You muttered making Spencer laugh. The smile on your face slowly faded. “Maybe we’re too similar, maybe that was our downfall.” 

Spencer lifted his hand, reaching out for yours which was currently placed on your lap. He intertwined his fingers with yours. “In reality, opposites don’t attract.” The brunette doctor noted. “You’re more likely to be attracted someone who thinks the same as you do.” 

In the space of a heartbeat, without giving you a chance to reach, Spencer leaned in. His lips brushed against yours; electricity shooting through your body. His free hand found its way to your face, and he cupped your cheek. As seconds passed you pushed yourself into him more. Fuck. Should you be doing this?

You hurried through the halls, slaloming between the groups of students making their way peacefully to class. A feeling of excitement filled you from head to toe; excitement you only wanted to share with one specific person. 

Spencer was sat in your now usual spot at the university library. Two coffees in front of him, one for you. 

A sort of routine emerged since the two of you first met. It started out for purely academic purposes, but in the last week especially it evolved into something different. A friendship perhaps? No. It felt more than that although neither of you could quite describe it

“I did it!” You exclaimed while sitting down beside the young doctor - getting a dirty look from the librarian in the process. She shushed you before returning to whatever it was she was doing. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Spencer. “I am officially done with all my papers and assignments.”

“I’m happy for you Y/N.” Spencer smiled.

“Well, I couldn't have done it without you.” You beamed at him. “I don’t know how I will ever thank you Spencer.” He shrugged his shoulders.  

“Come on genius, there must be something I can do for you.”

The brunette doctor cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I-I have t-two tickets to this convention, but you wouldn't be interested.” You raised an eyebrow while reaching for one of the coffees on the table. Lifting the lid to your lips you smiled. “It’s a date.”

Spencer’s hands were now holding onto your waist. He lifted you up in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss, so that you were now cradling his lap. You held his face, the tips of your fingers wrapping in his light brown curls. 

Any reservations you had just a moment ago were now forgotten. You were completely lost in him, just as he was in you. 

As your mouth parted, Spencer’s tongue crept between your lips meeting yours. Instantly, your tongues began to play back and forth. Heads tilting side to side to vary pressure. 

Spencer’s strong hands began to travel up your body. They moved from your waist; slightly messing up your shirt in the process and sending a shiver down your spine. They stopped once they reached your neck, giving it a light squeeze. You couldn't help but moan against his hot mouth. 

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.” You breathed happily as you and the young doctor walked down the busy street after the convention. “You don’t have to say that Y/N.” Spencer said, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt. 

“Are you kidding? Spencer, today was amazing!” You beamed throwing your hands up in the air. “I was supposed to be making it up to you for your help with my papers but instead you treated me to another great day.” 

Spencer chuckled lightly. He loved seeing you this happy. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how many things he actually loved about you. But it made him nervous because what if he didn't just love things like your laugh or your attitude. What if in fact he was in love with you.

“I guess we’re going to have to go on another date.” You teased. Spencer’s nose twitched but he didn't say anything. His lack of response caused you to stop in your tracks. The young doctor mimicked your move and also stopped, just a step ahead of you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed. 

“Why are you sorry?” Spencer asked confused.

“I just, I called today our date and I don’t want you to think I expect anything. I know the idea of dating can make you uncomfortable.” Your mouth flipped into a half-smile. “I like hanging out with you Spencer. I enjoy your company, and I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.” 

“I like hanging out with you too.” 

“Really?” “O-of course I do Y/N.” He smiled nervously. “I-I would like to go on more dates with you. You’re like a breath of fresh air.” Your face flushed red at his comment. Something Spencer noticed immediately. Without really thinking, he reached out his hand and gently caressed your cheek. 

Your heart stopped. This was the first time he had touched you, ever. It was the first time you felt his soft skin against yours. You wanted desperately to lean into his touch but you didn't want to scare him off so you stood still, taking a mental picture of this moment. 

Very slowly the two of you broke apart. The brunette doctor looked deep into your eyes; what he saw was longing, fervour. He felt the exact same. 

Between the constant fights and misunderstandings it felt wrong to feel this strong desire to one another. This strong pull. It felt almost toxic. But Spencer shook the invasive thought away, his lips once again meeting yours. 

“Would you like to move this to the bedroom?” You suggested in a mere whisper in between kisses. Spencer nodded. His hands situated themselves on your bum. The brunette agent picked you up allowing you to swiftly wrapp your legs around him. He carried you to the bed, kicking the door shut behind you with his leg. 

-

story taglist: @ashwarren32, @haylaansmi, @spencersblog, @lovebodymindstuff, @april-14-blog, @wooya1224, @chevyimpala00067, @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​

masterlist

[junova]

never been in love — single dad!steve (headcannon)

pairing: single dad!steve x teacher!reader

abstract: the one where steve likes you a lot and his daughter does too. 

warnings: it gets a lil smutty towards the end (18+) not really tho, this is so much longer than i intended jfc, bucky being kind of a dick, hint of daddy kink, cheating? 

[a/n]: this was totally inspired by @marvelouspeterparker​ post. i read it and it pulled me out of my writers block so thank u ! also this is so unnecessarily long but i have no excuse other than im a hoe for steve rogers?? 

*** gif isnt mine — i forgot creds srry :/

                             -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-  

oh god this one is going to hUrt me

but can you just imagine when steve really gets to see you, not just in passing as he picks up his daughter

he nearly shits himself because how in the hell had he not noticed you before?

one any given day, he’s right on time to pick up shai

he’s always punctual

— until today

not only was he late, but he was an hour late and in his mess of mind he was fully convinced they’d never let him bring her to the school again

to make matters even worse his phone had died and his cable was nowhere to be found in his dying, old pick up truck

not to mention his sweet little angel, more than likely frightened out of her mind

— but he was so wrong

practically in a full sprint, he quickly made his way to shai’s classroom when he found her perfectly peaceful while she talked with her teacher

even though, she was facing him and could see him she paid him no mind. it didn’t faze her that her father was so late because you had stayed to keep her company

“well, it looks like he finally decided to show up.” shai spoke to you, loud enough so her father in the doorway could her. the edge in her tone pushing sassy all the way through

of course as soon as shai found her way in steve’s arms he profusely apologized and graciously thanked you for staying with her saying he would repay you for it

— and it definitely had nothing to do with how attracted steve was to you. nope. not at all

you dismissed his gesture, it was a delight to be with shai and you told him such but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let it go

— and he didn’t

the very next day, when he dropped shai off and handed you a dozen pastries he had made fresh this morning

the way you gushed over it, cheekbones high and happy over his kindness made steve’s heart swell

they were still warm and you just couldn’t believe he made these with his bare hands

it was easily the kindest gift anyone ever gave you and you told him that too before you could stop yourself

then he just started bringing you a pastry or two every other day, even if you’d refused them the next day he would bring double the amount he brought the day before

you stopped refusing him bc you already felt guilt since he wouldn’t let you pay for a single one

after two weeks, steve asked you out. you weren’t shocked he had, he had been buttering you up but no matter how charming you thought he was you couldn’t.

he was a parent of one of your students and you just couldn’t allow yourself to go there

it wasn’t necessarily against the rules, but it was frowned upon

accepting your rejection with grace and humility he grabbed shai before bidding you goodbye that day

you thought that was the end of it, until you saw him the following friday night at the bar you frequented at

— alone

you wanted to talk to him, the tequila in your system giving you an irresistible urge to but you were on a date with on of your friends’ coworkers

james buchanan barnes

he definitely was a smooth taker, those dazzling blue eyes sparkling like they knew something you didn’t

you really wanted to be interested, he was a loose shape of a man you’d dream about. maybe you could even pretend he was the one you really wanted

not when steve was sitting at the bar, alone.

but you left that thought behind and you convinced yourself you really were smitten with bucky

two weeks later, bucky and you had been on a few dates and he seemed to like you but you knew you had to end things.

whatever little fling you had going on

your heart got more of kick when steve used to bring you pastries in the morning before class than when bucky kissed you after your first date.

then he asked if you would come to his house, he was having a small get together and would love if you’d be there

— reluctantly, you went

bucky’s friends were nice, each one of them making you feel welcomed into their tight circle.

it turned into a better night than you thought and bucky seemed to be super touchy, guiding you onto his lap as you sat around the fire in his patio

natasha, bucky’s long friend since high school, had you all in fits on the stories from the past

everyone was too busy reeling to recognize his presence but you had the to be blind not to

there steve stood gaping at you’d like you were a ghost, certainly surprised to see you perched on bucky’s lap

yep you wanted to just crawl under a whole a stay there forever

“Glad to see you showed up, punk.” Bucky gesturing for him to make his way over to you, even when you pulled at the sleeve of his henley to stop him.

— of course your efforts to tame bucky in did nothing

he grabbed a cold one before making his way to the two of you

and dear god was it as awkward as ever

“Honey, this is my best friend, Steve.” Honey? He had never called you anything besides your name. By the way he pulled you even closer to him made you think there was something else entirely going on.

you certainly didn’t miss the way steve’s jaw clenched or as he held his right hand picking at the piece of bark rather aggressively

“Um, we actually know each other. Shai is in my class, actually.” Feeling rather suffocated by the weight of Bucky’s arms now that the man you felt too much for was here. “Really? I had no idea.”

steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, infuriated. it wasn’t just that bucky knew you were shai’s teacher but he knew just how much steve liked you.

he didn’t shut up about you since he you with his daughter — something inside him changing in an instance

it wasn’t just that he thought you were the most wonderful woman he’d me — shai also raved over you

shai’s mother leaving a gaping whole in her heart she didn’t quite understand at the age of five was filled by you

you were kind to her, your patience never wearing thin as you gave her the attention she deserved

it may be your job but you enjoyed every moment with her and steve noticed

“Oh? She’s the one you would wake up an hour early for to make the pastries?” Bucky blurted out.

he woke up an early just to make those for you?

the way steve looked at the ground, grinding his fingertip against the label of his beer made you want to cry. his neck flaring pink at the embarrassment only made you wish you were in his arm instead

— even more than you already did

“You really should have seen the smile on his face when he came back from the school gushing over how much you liked what he had made.”

Bucky tightened his arm around your waist before saying. “Or when you reject him, I still can’t decide which is better.”

“That’s enough, James.” You tone harsh, before you ripped yourself away.

you couldn’t even look at steve, you don’t think your heart could handle it so you practically sprinted to your car

you needed to get the fuck out of here

until you reached for you keys, but they weren’t in your pocket

“Looking for these?” His hands looping through your keys giving it a twirl. “Star Wars fan?” Steve gesturing to you baby yoda key chain. “Maybe just a tad.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He tried to ignore the jump you ignited in his heart whenever you said his name.

handing your keys, he turned away from you, heading back into the house until you yanked him forward

the force so strong he though he was going to body slam into you before he pushing his weight against the car.....and you

“I’m sorry about, Bucky. I never would have gone out with him if I knew you two were friends.” You admitted while Steve just stood there looking embarrassed.

god did you always have to ruin everything

“I-I just, um, have these feelings for you. These very complicated feelings that make me want to throw every morally sound thought I have to the wind.”

“Which thought did you want to get rid of right now?” Stepping outside of his comfort zone, Steve grabbed your hands and just on instinct alone you cradled his face like it was the most natural act in the world. Like you had done it a thousand times.

“I mean, for one I’m telling myself I shouldn’t be this close to you.” Steve taking you by surprise as he tilted his head to the side, kissing the palm of your hand.

did he really just-

“What else, sweet girl?”

oh, you really were a goner

“I don’t know.” You spoke softly. Admitting to not only him but yourself — you couldn’t think when he was this close to you.

“Oh, but I think you do.” Steve diving right in as he latched his plump lips to your neck. Making whispers of his name drip off your tongue.

before you register what was happening steve had you pressed up against the car, rough hands gripping your thighs as your legs clinged to his slim waist

not to mention the ratio from his broad shoulders to his hips had your pussy drowning more

making you forget why you’d ever rejected him in the first place and he had hardly even touched you yet

then his lips met yours and you knew he had ruined you for anyone else. no one would ever compare to him and not anyone from your past did.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, completely in awe of what Steve was capable of doing to you in a matter of seconds. The proud smirk he wore in great contrast to what he felt back by the fire when he saw your body entangled with Bucky.

“If I ever see you sitting on my best friend’s lap again, I will go fucking crazy. Do you understand?” Steve eyes burning with envy.

“Yes, Daddy.”

brb gonna cry that i don’t have my very own steve rogers rip 

                            -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

 tags: @tonystankschild​ @parkastoria​ @kayteewritessteve​ 

[darkisrising]

Five Times, by DarkIsRising, pt1

Oh, yes, it is time for me to at last tackle this beloved fic convention! So excited, I’ve wanted to try one for years but it never worked out.  This WIP is a DinLuke, will eventually be Explicit, starts pre-Mandalorian S1 and will end post S2 Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted) 

1.

He’s drunk, and he isn’t quite sure how that happened.

That’s not true, Luke  does remember vaguely how it happened, more or less, and it all started with Han.

He’d been the one that had brought Luke here. He’d said there was a guy with information and the only place they could find him was this one bar on Flausy. Well, they happened to be on the Millennium Falcon, and Flausy was just around the star system from them, so, sure, it made sense that they ought to swing by and find the guy. Get the information.

“Han,” Luke had said when they’d walked in and looked around at the bright lights cutting through the dance floor, the tight press of bodies grinding to the music together, the flirtatious finger waves as they passed by the lower-lying tables. “Han, is this a gay bar?”

When it became evident that yes, this was in fact a gay bar, and Han had in fact brought him here, a few other pieces of this plot had begun to come together. “Was there ever even a guy with information?”

“Not really. Lando mentioned this place. Said it might be a good one to bring you to.” Luke’s legs stopped working and Han had been forced to throw an arm around his shoulder and frog march him the rest of the way to the bar. “Come on, kid, loosen up. You’re too young to be this serious, and I figure the best thing I can do for my dear, sweet, too-serious brother-in-law is get him out of his head for a bit. Get him drunk or laid. Or both, that would be ideal.”

“Does Leia know about this?”

“Whose credits do you think I’m using?” he replies with a lazy grin as he slaps a card on the bar. A droid comes whirring up, towel slung over it’s cybernetic shoulder, and bleats out a question. “Shots. Lots of them.”

Now here he is. Drunk. A tiny glass with a swirling purple drink in it and each one he throws back makes his mouth feel more and more like a spaceship entering hyperspace.

Han is taking his job as Luke’s wingman very seriously. He’s leaning against the bar like rough trade—blaster strapped to his thigh, leather vest gaping open, a knowing slant to his crooked mouth—and every guy that tries to pick him up is nimbly redirected toward Luke. Han talks him up in a voice that is loud enough to carry over the music, but not nearly persuasive enough to do much good.

It would hurt his pride more—that not even Han’s classic bait-and-switch can do much for his dismal love life—but he has purple shots to keep him warm and if Leia is buying, Luke figures it would be rude not to keep ordering them.

“That tin can is checking you out,” Han says, nodding to a dark corner, and Luke lifts his head from counting the drink rings on the bar to find a Mandalorian in full, if a little worn and poorly matching, regalia standing there.

He’s also wearing a silver helmet with the kind of blacked-out visor that’s impossible to see what he might be feeling or doing or checking out under there.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha. Very funny,”

“He could be checking you out,” Han says with a shrug. “No way to know for sure.”

“Another round?” Luke calls to the server droid who scurries to obey. “You sure he’s not here for you? Maybe you’ve got another bounty on your head.”

“Ha. Ha.” Han repeats with an eye roll of his own. “Didn’t you hear? I’m respectable now. All bounties on me have been squared away, Leia’s orders. Now I’m just a faithful husband and a soon-to-be doting dad.”

Luke can’t help the hysterical laugh that takes him then, and for that he blames the liquor. He gets a punch to the shoulder for it that is harder than a friendly tap yet not quite hard enough to mean business.

“I do think Tin Can is checking you out,” Han says a few minutes later, thoughtfully, as he idly rolls an empty shot glass between his fingers.

“Maybe I have a bounty out on me,” Luke says, snorting down into his drink. *

As it turns out, Luke does, in fact, have a bounty out on him.

* “This is all a misunderstanding,” Luke says standing behind the Mandalorian in the cockpit of his ship as he prepares for take off.

His wrists are bound in front of him, something he could probably get out of with one well placed thought if he wanted to but, well, Han had been right. He has been too serious lately, too lonely, and there’s something about the tall, aloof type that gets to him. And he can’t get much more aloof than a Mandalorian whose face he has yet to see and who has only said a handful of words between capturing Luke and bringing him back here.

Also, Luke’s been drinking. That might also be part of it.

“So, is that bar like,” he tries to think of a tactful way of putting it, very aware that it’s been a long time since he’s tried this talking to (potentially) handsome men thing. “Do you go there a lot, or…?”

“No.”

Luke waits for him to elaborate but that seems to be all he’s going to get.

“Oh. Well, me neither. It was my first time at that place.” The ship tremors as it leaves the atmosphere and Luke lurches forward. He catches himself on the back of the Mandalorian’s chair with his shins since his hands aren’t good for much in these cuffs. “First time having those nurple shots. Have you ever had a nurple shot?”

No response.

“They’re purple,” Luke says helpfully. “Really, really purple. Strong, too.”

The ship makes a sharp turn and Luke staggers to the side along with it.

“I think I might be drunk,” Luke confesses and the Mandalorian snorts out a laugh, the first sign of an emotion he’s shown yet.

“You think?” And then because apparently Luke’s luck is holding he tilts his head and keeps talking. “How about you sit before you hurt yourself?”

“Wow,” Luke says as he falls into the copilot seat. “That was like a whole sentence. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

Another snort, but that’s all the answer he’s apparently going to give Luke.

“That’s not a no,” Luke points out.

The silence continues on and the white out of hyperspace starts to lull Luke to sleep which is probably not great for his future escape plans, but he feels himself start to slump over nevertheless.

Kriffing Han, he thinks as he comes ever closer to passing out. Kriffing nurple shots.

Just as he’s drifting off he hears the Mandalorian say: “It’s not a no,” but he can’t for the life of him remember what they’d been talking about before darkness takes over. *

The thing is, if Luke were in his right mind he’d try making a pass at the Mandalorian.

Luke doesn’t have the most sexual experience, but for a farm boy from a nearly uninhabitable rock, he’s done pretty well for himself. He knows he’s got the blond thing going for him and that aw-shucks-I’d-be-delighted-to-go-down-on-you thing, and together that can be a pretty winning combo.

Or at least it is according to the holovids that he used to watch and then swear to Uncle Owen that he had no idea how those charges ended up on their plasticard account. Which is to say, he might not have experienced it all but he’s seen some things and if that one ‘vid ‘Mand-ooooooh!-lorian, vol.9’ had anything to say about it all it would take is the right smile, the right wink, and Luke would see himself bent over the cockpit’s console in no time.

Instead he wakes up from a dead sleep and manages to turn his head away from the man he’d really like to impress before vomiting nurple shots all over the floor.

“I'm sorry,” Luke moans. “I’m so, so sorry.”

If the Mandalorian is disgusted at Luke, it's hard to tell with that helmet on.

“I'll clean it up. Just tell me where you keep your supplies and I'll take care of it.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t so much as move from where he’s fiddling with the ship's controls, but still the cockpit door opens behind Luke with a whir.

“Right, yeah, okay.” Luke scrambles up from his seat to the door. A piercing pain is starting above his right eye that he tries to blink away. “I can figure it out.”

The ship’s compartments are narrow and the lights are flickering just enough to make his nausea even worse, but he’d said he would clean up and so he will. A storage door opens with a snick and Luke is staring at more weaponry than he’s seen in one place since the Rebellion ended.

For the first time since he’s been captured Luke wonders where his lightsaber has gotten to.

He remembers fumbling for it with fingers that had gone nerveless from the shots, but then the Mandalorian was hauling him away with some sort of cable line and Han was no help at all, laughing himself into a stupor as he leaned against the bar.

And that’s as far as he can remember.

Luke closes the weapons storage door, turning away a little too fast and the headache is worse now.

He’s wincing, reaching up with his bound hands to pinch at the space between his eyes when he realizes he isn’t alone any more.

“This’ll help with the hangover,” he hears over his shoulder before he’s swung into a carbonite chamber and unceremoniously blasted with freezing gas. *

By the time he’s rescued the Mandalorian is long gone, having collected on his bounty, and all Luke has to do is wait out the shivering aftereffects of the carbonite with a bemused Han shape that he can barely see through the hibernation blindness.

Squatting down to where Luke is sprawled across the floor, Han presses the hilt of Luke’s lightsaber into his hand and asks: “Did you at least get his comm code?”

“I didn’t. Even. Get his. Name,” Luke forces out through chattering teeth.

A warm hand claps him on the shoulder.

“Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

[theawkwardterrier]

8+25 for a Steggy drabble

Amicus Curiae

Summary: Spending her Sunday watching high school students argue the same fake case is starting to seem like something Judge Carter might regret, until the Brooklyn Community High School team shows up. Or rather, until their teacher does...

Peggy is perfectly aware why she had volunteered for this. She knows why she should be proud and excited to be here, can mentally list through all the positives, the importance of it.

By her fourth session of the day, she has given up reminding herself of these things and is just hanging on.

It isn’t that the students are terrible - many of them are actually quite good. It’s only that listening to the same case being argued repeatedly over the course of several hours has the tendency to put a bit of strain on a person.

Perhaps it is especially grating because she had specifically only signed up to work for the morning today; she was planning on indulging in some actual relaxation over this weekend, or at least a bit of it after she had finished giving the keynote at the Women and Law conference on Saturday and spending Sunday volunteering, then finishing up on some work, and so long as her neighbors’ newborn actually took a break from indulging in a seeming undying passion for crying….

Well, not being around to listen to that was one blessing of having been begged by the very harassed tournament organizer to stay for a bit of extra time when Thompson had begun vomiting after lunch and needed to go home (Peggy can’t say she’s sorry about it, and she suspects that students will appreciate not having to put up with his tendency to pontificate).

Still, it’s hard to remember all the benefits, the meaningful logic, when the next set of teams has settled into her courtroom and she has to push back her shoulders and enter for yet another round.

“Just one more to get through. I’ll text the café and put in an order for your usual,” Rose mutters out of the corner of her mouth as Peggy passes, then raises her voice to announce, “All rise, the superior court of New York is now in session. Judge Margaret Carter presiding.”

Peggy scans the crowd absently as she gives her now-standard introductory speech. There are Zola and Schmidt, who have served as faculty coach and legal advisor for Hydra High over the past several years. She doesn’t envy the students on their team; the two might have a fairly steady winning record, but their personalities are miserable and they have a reputation for being harsh leaders.

Her gaze shifts to the other side. She’s never even heard of Brooklyn Community, guesses that they have never made out of preliminary rounds before. They are serving as the prosecution, with two young women and a young man as their attorneys. The three have their hands folded atop the table, listening to her attentively, but as she wraps up, she notices them sneaking glances toward their chaperones.

She is almost certain that they aren’t looking for reassurance from the lawyer accompanying them. She knows Howard Stark, although then again everyone does. He hasn’t argued before her, but he takes high profile cases and makes them even higher profile. If he wasn’t actually a talented and thorough attorney, she would dislike him quite a lot for how well he plays the media game, turning the law and people’s lives into sound bites and cable news clips. It’s a surprise to see him here - she would not have thought him the type to volunteer his time, especially not for something as small as a high school mock trial tournament - but no surprise at all to notice that he is glancing down at the phone in his lap, typing surreptitiously.

The thought of penalizing him for that crosses her mind, but before she can say anything, a tall student in the front row shifts and she can see whose eye the young prosecutors were trying to catch.

Their teacher is young, Peggy realizes as she directs Rose to read the name of the court case on the docket (which she already knows extremely bloody well by now). Not as young as some of the bright-eyed-bushy-tailed types she’s seen, but she’d wager that he’s in his thirties, perhaps a year or two older than she is. The smile he directs toward his students is not a flashy, movie star sort of thing but more solid than that, real and reassuring, and he meets the eyes of his charges and nods with firm encouragement toward them before sitting back to watch.

Incidentally, he is also incredibly good looking.

Peggy honors her commitments, prides herself on that, in fact, and so she takes as much care in overseeing this trial as she does with those which come before her in a more official capacity. Still, between watching the excellent prosecutorial team and noting some of the more interesting choices being made by a few of the witnesses, she manages to keep an eye on the teacher - Steve Rogers, according to the file she had glanced at.

He watches the trial carefully, making notes as he does, but it isn’t like Zola, who only jots things down when his team has made a misstep. Mr. Rogers seems as likely to mark things done right as those which could be done better. He nods along with his students, smiling especially widely at several points; Peggy would venture that those were things that they worked on particularly hard in practice. And every so often he turns to look at her before turning swiftly back toward his students. 

It’s the way his eyes widen and shift quickly away which makes Peggy suspect that his gaze isn’t entirely to do with analyzing how she is perceiving his team.

He keeps his eyes on hers, however, when she returns from her brief recess and announces that his team will be advancing to the next round. It’s only for that moment, though. The next he is turning to congratulate his team, who have all swarmed around him, patting their shoulders and speaking quietly to them, turning to shake Howard Stark’s hand.

With one last glance at Schmidt, whose face has turned sour with rage, and Zola, who is trying to calm him even as he shakes his head at the team, Peggy allows Rose to announce her exit, and goes to absorb the quiet of her chambers. As nice a distraction as Steve Rogers was, she knew that it could not be for long.

Still, she’s a bit regretful when she, divested of her robe and carrying her briefcase, returns to the courtroom to take the stairs down to the back parking area and finds it empty.

Then she hears something.

“Gotcha,” a voice says, and Steve Rogers stands from between the benches of the gallery where the Hydra team had been sitting earlier, a crumpled paper cup in his hand. He spots her almost immediately, and she can see the awkwardness come over his face even with the courtroom lights dimmed.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says. “Your Honor, I mean.”

“It’s no trouble, Mr. Rogers,” she says, walking nearer. “Have you forgotten something?”

He glances down at the cup he is holding and winces. “Oh, no. I—When we were in here before, I saw that there were a few things left behind. I figured I’d come back to clean up a little once I saw my team to the subway.”

“You don’t have to do that. Really.” They are at comfortable speaking distance now. “Tidying after other teams isn’t precisely within your job description.”

He shrugs, wide shoulders looking a little helpless. “I was here and I could take care of it. No reason that the custodial staff should have to deal with extra just because some people weren’t as respectful as they should have been.”

The response seems to make something warm and expansive trail through her chest, but she only says, “Hmm,” in return, tilting her head to one side. “Well, I should hope that you didn’t entrust the well-being of your students to Mr. Stark while you came back to take care of litter.”

“They’re city kids, they’ve been taking the subway by themselves for years. And if anything, I’d trust them to take care of Howard instead of the other way around,” he says. A smile touches at his mouth, and although she’s seen him smile many times over the course of the afternoon, it is different when it is directed at her. 

“Well, let us hope that it won’t come to that. I did wonder, actually, how you managed to convince Mr. Stark to participate. I only know him by reputation, but I wouldn’t think it his sort of activity.”

“I might not have thought so either, but I know that it never hurts to try, so I got in touch. Turns out that he got his start on a team back in high school too. He still has a soft spot.” He shrugs. “I was lucky to get him. My kids deserve the best.”

“I’m disappointed not to be asked then,” she says. His eyes widen a bit before he realizes that she’s teasing.

Still, he sounds truthful and serious as he tells her, “If you weren’t a judge, you would have been on my list. You got yourself on the bench even though you’re young, a woman, and if you’re a naturalized citizen you already have to be pretty self-directed and able to go through all that’s involved in that...I know that none of that would have made it easy. People with vision about their futures who were able to achieve their goals despite obstacles - that’s exactly who I want around my team.”

She shifts her briefcase a bit, knowing that she’s already eaten through most of the day and that the journey home will lose her even more time. But it feels so nice standing here talking to him, not just small talk, not just because of the compliments, but because it feels like the start of something. So instead she says, “I apologize, by the way. I haven’t congratulated you.”

“They did a great job,” he says, immediate, eager. “It’s our first year even offering Mock Trial and I wasn’t sure how well it would work out, but they’re doing themselves proud. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear about some of them making partner one day - or making their own way to the bench. Nat, who did the cross, she—” But he cuts himself off, blushing a little. “Sorry, I know I can get carried away, and you probably don’t want to hear it - you already spent the whole day knee deep in this, after all, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to bias you somehow.”

There really isn’t a word for the pink in his cheeks other than fetching. Well, perhaps darling would do it.

Just earlier today, she would have said that her life was quite full enough, perhaps even overfull. But somehow, she thinks that a space could open for him, for speaking with him and seeing him and more, if she wanted it to. So she takes a breath and says, “I actually won’t be judging any further rounds this season, so there can’t be any sort of conflict of interest at all. Even if you were to, for example, join me for a bite to eat sometime soon.”

For a blink, she wonders if she might have misjudged, if she has mistaken politeness for something more, but then his mouth curves back into that smile which sends warmth running through her and which she is already beginning to like so well, especially when it is being aimed in her direction.

“I’m free tonight if you are,” he offers, something a bit worried still lying beneath the offer he has laid plainly at her feet. It makes her want to take his hand, to lean her head against his shoulder and promise that he has nothing to be nervous about.

Instead she says, all thought of taking off her heels and climbing into a hot bath forgotten, “If you’ve finished neatening things up around here, I know a place nearby.”

His smile gets just that bit wider. “Let me toss this out. Then you can lead the way.”

She’s happy to.

[kyber-crystal]

here again || s.r

words: ~2k

summary: you & steve reunite in wakanda after two long years apart

warning: literally none, just fluff. also bad writing bc this is an old ass oneshot

a/n: so uh,,,this was apparently the result of me falling in love with nomad steve rogers all over again. IW was actually the first avengers film i saw and let me just say, hot damn...also i’m horrible w/titles i’m so sorry. if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be the first to know when i publish something new loml!

tags: to @wxstedhexrt​ ! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET AND SUPPORTIVE AND ALWAYS TAGGING ME IN STUFF ILY

Time flies, people told you. Make the most of every moment. Take nothing for granted. Appreciate those you have around you while they’re still here, because you never know when they’ll leave you. 

What they didn’t mention was what happened between those long hours, the immense pain that came along with missing someone you loved and held near and dear to your heart. The countless sleepless nights awake, wondering if they’d be alright, wondering if they were safe and not in danger. The countless nights hoping and praying they’d come back to you and crying yourself to sleep.

They didn’t tell you that sometimes, you never knew what you were missing until it was gone. 

In your case, your ‘what’ was Steve Rogers. 

Initially, you’d started off on Tony’s side. Not because you agreed with his argument - that wasn’t the case at all - but because you couldn’t stand the idea of turning your back against the man that had sacrificed so much for your sake. But as soon as you saw Steve on the other side of the battlefield, eyes soft and pleading, you couldn’t take it anymore. You caved.  

Being in love made people do strange things, you thought.

You were lucky enough to have found refuge in Wakanda. T’Challa was more than happy to let you stay, knowing you had nowhere else to go and wanting to make sure you were looked after at all times. The others - Sam and the rest of Team Cap, had been sent to the Raft - they weren’t as lucky.

You felt awful. Here you were, living out a peaceful life (well, as peaceful of a fugitive’s life could be), while the rest of your teammates were trapped within the iron fists of the government.

Two years passed, and you still hadn’t gotten a message, any sort of sign, from any of them. You began losing hope. Maybe they weren’t coming back...

“Miss Y/N?” a calm voice suddenly jarred you from your thoughts. 

You turned around to see T’Challa standing there with his hands behind his back. “How many times have i told you to just address me as Y/N?”

“My apologies, Y/N,” he nodded curtly, correcting himself. “Are you alright?”

“Just...thinking,” you hummed. 

“It seems as if you have a lot on your mind,” he guessed. “Is there something that’s bothering you?”

“No, no...”

“Miss- Y/N, you’ve been here for two years, and you think by now, I wouldn’t know when something’s up?”  The Wakandan king raised an eyebrow. 

“T’challa-”

“Hopefully, some good news will lift your spirits?” he offered. “I have received a call, they’re on their way.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“Captain Rogers and the others are due to arrive soon. War is coming, and we need to prepare.”

You froze. “D..did I just hear you correctly?”

“Indeed. Okoye will meet you outside your chambers in half an hour, so take some time to wash up and rest, will you? You seem exhausted.”

“You know me so well,” you yawned and stretched your arms in the air. “See you in a bit.”

After you finished washing up and drying your hair, you changed into a comfortable cable-knit sweater and dark jeans before opening the door to see Okoye and Shuri standing there. “Hi.”

Shuri came forward and squeezed you into a tight hug. “Hey!”

You chuckled lightly and ruffled her hair. “So, what’re we doing?”

“T’Challa’s already there, we’re going to see Barnes,” she explained.

“Bucky?” 

“The one and only.”

Okoye offered you one of her rare smiles. You’d formed an unexpected close friendship with the fierce warrior during your time here - she made an excellent sparring partner, and even taught you how to work her weapons.

You headed outside to meet T’Challa, and made your way towards the fields together. 

...

“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0,” Steve stated as he walked up to the pilot’s seat. Despite the calm tone of voice he had, everyone could tell he was on the verge of losing it.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap,” Sam said, “or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

“Nervous, Rogers?” Natasha nudged him gently in the side. 

“No.” But the look in his eyes gave it all away.

“It’s been a wild two years, huh,” she exhaled as she stared out ahead, the Quinjet passing through a camouflage forcefield into the Golden City’s valley, landing at the airfield outside the palace.

“Yeah...it has.”

“So when are you gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re hopelessly in love with her.”

“Natasha-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, I know you are,” she gave the super-soldier an accusatory look. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have woken up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare that she died, and it was only after talking with Sam for an hour that you fell back asleep. Which has happened multiple times before.”

“But, Natasha-”

“Come on..why can’t you just admit it? Are you afraid she’s gonna reject you? Because that should be the least of your worries. She’s head over heels for you.”

“What makes you think that?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. 

“Intuition. And the way she looked at you.”

“When you said we were going to open Wakanda to the rest of the world...this is not what I imagined,” Okoye commented as she and T’Challa walked side-by-side.

“And what did you imagine?”

“The Olympics. Maybe even a Starbucks.”

The Quinjet’s back gate dropped open and its occupants disembarked. Steve and Natasha stepped down the ramp first, followed by Bruce and Rhodey, with Vision and Wanda in the back.

“Should we bow?” Bruce whispered into Rhodey’s ear.

“Yeah,” he replied, dead serious. “He’s a king.”

“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve said as he and T’Challa shook hands. 

Bruce awkwardly bowed. Rhodey pretended to look shocked, but there was a hint of an smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa motioned with his hand. Bruce shot Rhodey a look, and was just answered with an amused grin. “So how big of an assault can we expect?”

“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault,” Bruce replied as they began walking back into the administrative building.

“How we looking?” Natasha questioned.

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“A semi-stable, 100-year-old man,” Bucky finished with a wide grin as he walked towards his best friend. The two men exchanged a tight hug. 

“How you been, Buck?”

“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “But I think I’ve been holding up better than she has.”

“Who?”

“Everyone’s favorite retired Olympian, ex-nurse, and fugitive electrokinetic hero.”

“What-”

Before he had the chance to answer, your familiar figure stepped out from the shadows.

“Y/N?”

“Steve?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat and froze on the spot. He still had that same lean, muscular figure that any girl would swoon over, but his hair had grown out from years on the run and a rugged beard now covered his sharp jaw. His suit was darkened from dirt and grime and the star in its centre was torn out. But he was still absolutely breathtaking - bright blue eyes shining through the coverage. 

His expression immediately softened upon seeing you. After many nights praying to see your face again his vision had finally become reality - and he had to keep pinching the inside of his palm to remind himself that this in fact, wasn’t a dream at all. He wasn’t dreaming. You were real, and you were standing just a couple yards away. 

You felt your chest ache at the sight of him - it had been two years since you heard him speak. And it didn’t seem to matter how long you were apart for, because his voice would always make you weak at the knees. You hated him for making you react the way you did - or was it yourself that your hatred was directed at more?

But then all feelings of resentment and frustration starting to bubble up to the surface suddenly evaporated. You snapped out of your temporary trance and broke into a sprint, running as fast as your legs would carry you and launching yourself towards him, flinging your arms around his neck. “Steve-”

You slumped against him and broke down, your body trembling from your sobs. He pulled you closer against him and circled his arms around your waist. You didn’t know whether you were crying out of frustration or relief - but the feeling that was brought upon you by being held by him was unlike any other - you’d never get tired of it. You felt so safe, so protected in his tight embrace that you didn’t want to think about anything else. You didn’t want to think about the inevitable war on your way, you didn’t want to think about the past nor the  future, you just wanted to live in the moment - with your head on his chest, his chin on top of your head. That was it.

Steve felt his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. You were crying. You never cried. You never cried and now you were breaking down - because of him.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hair. “God, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I left you-”

“It’s okay-” you choked out, “I’m just glad you’re alive-”

You lifted your chin up slightly and he rested his forehead against yours, so close that there were only a few millimeters that kept your lips from touching. That’s when you realized he, too, was crying - tears streaming down his face and you swear there’s literally nothing that could make him look any less handsome. You felt your heart stop momentarily. A strange feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. If it weren’t for his steady gaze, you’re almost 100% sure you would’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief, inhaling the fresh scent of roses in your hair. It’s been two years since he was last able to hold you like this - and two years later, he still believes you fit perfectly together and that you were made to be held by him, and him alone. 

Then you were overcome with a sudden surge of confidence and quickly cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his, closing the gap. 

It was like fireworks were shooting through your veins as he deepened the kiss and pulled you closer - if that was even possible, given that you were practically pressed against one another - your heart racing at what felt like a million miles per hour at the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his hand between your shoulder blades and on the small of your back. He tasted like everything between euphoria and heartbreak, salty tears and berries and warm coffee, and his touch was electrifying.

You probably could’ve gone on like that for hours on end. It was only when you heard someone cough awkwardly that you broke apart, eyes still glassy with tears, your faces flushed, and lips swollen.

“Are you and lover boy gonna keep up the baby-making or are you gonna say hi to the rest of us?” Sam interjected. “Just a friendly reminder that you aren’t the only two people here.”

“You’re gross,” you muttered as Steve released you to go greet the others. “Hey, Sam. It’s been a while, huh.”

“Long time no see,” he agreed.

“Well, well, well, I see you’ve finally worked up the courage to make a move, both of you,” Natasha smirked as she brought you in for a quick hug. “I’m proud of you both.”

“Nat! I missed you.”

“I missed you too. You know, Cap wouldn’t stop rambling about you the entire way here-”

“Shut up, Nat,” Steve cut her off. “I wasn’t rambling.”

“Not rambling my ass,” Bucky muttered, “you were talking my ear off that day we took the Quinjet. Wouldn’t stop worrying about her when she insisted she’d be okay.”

“If there was an Olympic sport of being passionately in love with your best friend and mutually pining over one another for years before finally breaking the through-the-roof tension, I assure you you’d win, Captain,” Shuri grinned mischievously.

“Oh, my God.”