#I’m telling him to pose with me instead of doing the same grumpy face | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bronx-bomber87 · 2 years ago

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Happy Saturday lovely Fandom :) We’ve reached my favorite episode of the season. I explained in detail to that ask I received about my fav eps why I love it so much. Great follow up to the previous episode. So much good content in this one. Married moments galore, growth, all the goodies. The name on this one is apt. Makes me breakdown every time I watch it. Let's get going.

4x09 Breakdown

First off imma need more Lucy/Genny scenes in S6. Their banter and bonding makes me so happy. Idk what Tim was expecting with these two together again. Of course they were going to bond more and chat. Get off track while doing so. Genny trying to reminisce about the house. Asking Tim if he remembers their mom used to make them pose for pics by that window? Lucy jumps in because why wouldn’t she? Joining in saying her mom did the same thing. The smile on Genny's face. She clearly enjoys Lucy's company. Probably thinking why isn't Tim dating her?

Tim doesn’t look amused by this at all. Even huffing a little bit. They continue on like he isn’t there. Talking about wrist corsages they had to wear. Genny saying 'Why was that ever a thing?' Tim cuts off memory lane. Stating they’re just here to fix this place up and sell it. That’s it. Lucy therapy mode is activated by this comment of course. Stating they’re closing an important chapter in their lives. They need closure by doing things like this. Reminiscing and such.

Tim being so very over this turns on the saw. Trying to drown her out saying ‘What? LOL Such a little shit ha I love him so much though. (So does Lucy heh) Lucy screams 'You need closure!' again despite him trying to drown her out. He screams again 'What?! 'She is so flirty when calls him an idiot. Mixture of exasperated and flirty. Like he’s her idiot and I love it sfm. Also let’s note this is clearly Lucy’s day off. How is she spending it?

Renovating Tim’s childhood home and bonding with his sister some more. Not soulmate behavior at all… It’s crazy just like in S2 you forget he’s dating Rachel. It’s the same in S4 only their bond is even stronger now. Where is Ashley is all this? Not here... Their married vibes are insanely high in this moment.

Tim’s exasperated face when she calls him an idiot haha Epitome of Sunshine x Grumpy. All in front to Genny too. Like Grey I’m sure she also knew long before they did. If you needed a future depiction of their marriage this is it. Sister in-law and all in the mix. This is so domestic I cannot stand it.

As they continue to tear down the wall Lucy is telling them how much she wanted a sibling. She begged her parents for one. Instead they got her a turtle ha. Not really the same thing... Saying it was cute but a little smelly. Then Genny comes in with the hilarious sibling slam. 'Cute and smelly sums up Tim’s teenage years' LOL Saying she didn’t miss much at all. Tim returns the sass in full above. The cute family bonding getting me all in my feels. Lucy is so happy to be apart of this.

Written all over her face. Future sister-in law bonding as well it’s so great. Unfortunately while they’re tearing down the wall they find a gun. Tim goes from light-hearted and fun to serious at the drop of a hat. Genny asks how long that could’ve been in there? Tim isn’t sure. That it’s hard to say. He shows Lucy that the serial number has been filed off. Lucy says they need to run ballistics. Tim nods agreeing with her completely. They're so damn in-sync and just a well oiled machine with work stuff. Just comes together so seamlessly.

Genny panics a little. Says they don’t actually think it was used in a crime do they? Tim lets her know it’s THEIR job to find out. Not just him THEIR. I love it. Genny is upset they’re leaving. Wondering if anyone else can handle this? Tim promises they’ll be back as soon as they can. Genny scoffs and says she knew he’d find an excuse to leave. Tim tells her this is serious. They have to go.

Genny doesn’t fight him and tells him to just go. Lucy’s face when Tim exits the room. She’s torn between comforting Genny and rushing after Tim. Naturally she goes after Tim. He needs her more and is clearly so upset. She’s worried about him so he takes precedence. It’s like an instinctual pull to him in that gif above.

You can tell she wants to stay to help Genny but Tim needs her more. Before we delve any further. Let’s talk about seeing Tim in jeans during this. Phew lord. Tall drink of sexy in tight blue jeans. I am here for it. Break me off a piece. Those biceps in that t-shirt too. Trying to kill me good sir. This man can make the simplest outfits sexy af. How does he do it? It's not fair to be this attractive.

Once Lucy catches up to him she says Genny has a point. He could call someone else to handle this. That he still can. Tim gives her a good company line. Saying 'How a good Sergeant doesn’t create work for his officers. Even on his day off.' Lucy of course isn’t buying what he’s selling. Knows this man better than anyone else. Asks if 'It’s not at all about the emotions this house is stirring up?'

Tim not wanting to deal with his emotions says ‘It’s just a house…’ How you acted all of 4x08 would contradict that statement my love. *sigh* Oh my poor Tim. Lucy hit the nail on the head and he doesn’t want to face it let alone deal with it. Lucy doesn’t press him any further. She knows her boundaries with him. That doesn’t erase the massive worry on her face though. If she could hug him right now she would.

We rejoin them at that station. First off how can two people exude so much chemistry just walking next to each other? Tall/Smol gloriousness. The little to no space between them as they walk together. Personal space? Never heard of her. That word is foreign to them and it makes me giddy. How Tim is drawn to her as they move. Looking like he’s reading the file. When really he’s just magnetically drawn to her. He physically can’t help it at this point.

I can’t get over Tim being in street clothes in the station. Mmm. Not only that but being in jeans plus his badge showing? My god I’m a puddle. This man is my undoing and I welcome it. *Ahem* Their dialogue here is married af. It’s so god damn natural I cannot stand it. Lucy being on it with ballistics. Saying she got it already. Tim comments that was fast. Lucy stating above how she achieved said fast results.

Forever love that silent communication they do. He doesn’t even need to say thank you. That cute little smile does it for him in the second gif. It’s his thank you and she reads it loud and clear. Her buying cookies just to expedite this case? Tell me your ship is in love without telling me they’re in love. Gah this ep is doing things to me. It’s like when you see a cute puppy and are overcome with cute aggression. I’m overcome with amazing cute ship aggression LMAO

Lucy gives him the details she has from the report. Saying the ballistics match a 25 year old murder. Someone named Frank Ochoa. Tim freezes and says he lived down the street from them. He also mentions he was 14 when he was murdered. Lucy continues on and says the investigation resulted in a botched home invasion. Tim replies they can rule that out now that they found the gun in their wall.

Lucy asks Tim if he remembers anything from that night? Tim tells her he had football game. His mom took him and Genny. When they got back it was crawling with cops. That his dad hated Frank. Lucy tells him he had an alibi. Frank’s wife. This incites Tim’s anger even more. Saying he was having an affair with her. She was no alibi.

His mom didn’t know but he did. Ugh. Poor Tim having to live with that. To protect his mother’s feelings by living with it. You can see the hurt on his face. The anger welling up inside of him. So much so when Lucy tries to theorize with him he just says I don’t know. So overcome with emotions of his past. I wanna hug him this entire episode.

This next section we see protective/worried Lucy come out. Honestly she’s present most of this episode tbh. She finds Tim in the hallway headed towards interrogation. Asking what he’s doing? Tim lets her know Monica Ochoa is in interrogation. That he’s going to get to the bottom of this. Lucy stops him right away. Knowing he will go in there like a raging bull full of emotions. Tim shoots back she’s his father’s alibi.

She has the answer to whether it was her or his dad that killed Frank. He's so antsy to have answers. His anxiety coming off him in massive waves. Luckily Lucy is well versed in the ways of Tim Bradford. Knows exactly how to handle this. She agrees but says he can’t be the one to question her. That he will have an immediate bias towards her. Lucy does what she does best. Tells him what he needs to hear. Saying he can’t be the one to do this.

They need to do this the right way if they're gonna tackle this together. The best part is he agrees and hands the file over to her. No fight in him at all. My damn heart. I'm bursting. The immense amount of growth in this man. Seeing her reasoning right away, handing it over knowing she’s right and trusts her to interrogate Monica. The levels of growth for them and Tim as a person are off the charts. I adore him pointing to her then handing the file right over. Not giving it a second thought that she is right. Not only is he trusting her to do this correctly. It’s a family matter he’s letting her handle.

I cannot emphasize enough how huge this is. How far we’ve come from where we started. It’s moments like this where we truly get to reap the reward of all the build up. How Tim ‘I don’t talk about my personal life’ Bradford is handing over the most personal thing he could to Lucy. Saying you’re right, I trust you, let’s do this. To have this guarded man hand the reins over to Lucy is colossal. That wall of his with her is in damn near ruin at this point.

Tim watches from observation as Lucy handles questioning. Monica is defensive right off the bat. Dodging all of Lucy’s questions. Lucy gets her back on track though. Has her recite what happened that night. She says she was over with Tom (Tim's father) doing her taxes. He was a CPA so she went to him for help. When she got home their house has been broken into. Found Frank’s body in kitchen. Lucy tries to poke at the affair a bit more. Trying to get her to admit to it.

Asking if she was with the Bradford’s a lot? If so we're the kids there? Did Tom leave the house at any point while helping her? Monica gets even more defensive and gets up to leave. Lucy isn’t able to keep her in the room much longer. Suspicious af behavior. Tim can’t stand her up and leaving. He confronts her in the hallway. It goes about as well as you’d expect. If you think she was defensive with Lucy amplify that by ten with Tim.

When she takes off Tim says she’s covering for him. Lucy says maybe…but they can’t prove that. For first time he’s not looking at something with cop eyes. Thankfully he has Lucy who is. He’s so determined to see this the way he wants to. To nail his dad for something. If he does it’ll be cathartic for him. Almost likes forcing his father to atone for all his sins with this one crime.

Tim goes to see his father and it’s hard to watch. Tim has tears in his eyes from the moment he steps into that room. All his pent up emotions barreling out of him. He tries to keep himself in check and it gets the best of him. You can hear the hurt in his voice as he speaks to his father. I know that hurt well. His father joking the nurses love him. But not enough to give him a shot of patron. Tim is so irritated with him. Annoyed he always finds people to take care of his even when he doesn’t deserve it. Tom asks him if has something on his mind?

Tim brings up finding the gun, Frank Ochoa, his wife. His father denies knowing her cause he’s awful. Tim letting him know he knew about the affair. He tries to deny it further and Tim lets him know he caught them when he was 13. His father finally giving in with an 'Oh crap.' Then Tim says something that breaks my heart. ‘For some reason I still don’t understand. I lied for you. Lied to mom.’ You can see how that ate at him to do so. He was too young for such a burden.

I think the reason he doesn't understand is he wanted his dad to be proud of him. It sounds messed up but I get it. Wanted him to praise him for something. Anything. Give him an 'Atta Boy.' I so understand that. You’d think the relationship I have my own parents their opinion would mean nothing. Now it does less so than it used to. But there’s still something deep down inside me wants them to be proud of me. Praise me. Say I did a good job. Instead of being disappointed.

It’s some crazy DNA thing with your parents. Where even if you’re on bad terms there is still part of you that wants that acceptance. When really it should be the other way around. Tim wanted his dad to recognize what he had done for him. Even now he wanted that and all he got was emotional abuse as his reply. Belittling him and calling him ‘Poor little Tim-Tim’ I bet you Tim was a very emotional sensitive child like me and he was shut down constantly like I was. Hence that nickname. Ugh. I hate his father so much. Tim asks why he did it? Ruining one family wasn’t enough for him?

His father gets out of bed. Tim tells him to get back in. His father being defiant knowing Tim won’t lay a hand. Says ‘Make me.’ Tim can’t even look him in the eye and his father tacks on ‘That’s what I thought.’ This hurts my soul watch. Feels like a glimpse into how things were for him growing up. Anytime Tim stood up for himself or Genny. This was probably the reaction he got. Him goading him into a reaction. Then when he didn’t get it belittling Tim was the next step for not doing so. *sigh* Seeing the emotional abuse in action is hard to swallow. I hate seeing Tim shrink like he does in his father's presence.

That strong confident man we’re all used to reduced in an instant due to his father. Breaks my damn heart. His father confesses to killing Frank. Goes after Tim some more and says screw him. Calling Tim mockingly a ‘big man’ for dragging him away from his death bed. Tim tells him ' This isn't over..' tears threatening to spill from his beautiful eyes. I wanna hug him so much. His father tells him to get the hell out. *heart clutch* When a parent cuts you down like that and you’re too stunned to really reply. It's a helpless feeling. The rage I feel is a culmination for him and what I’ve dealt with myself.

We return to Tim at the station. Ready to write his father up. Man on a mission really. Lucy comes over to talk to him. Tim word vomits all over her. Coming out faster than Lucy can get a word in. Asking her a favor and getting the DA contacted for him. Lucy finally is able to tell him to stop. Let’s him know she brought Monica back in while he was away. Tim is confused and asks why?

One of the two things I adore about this scene is Lucy’s initiative here. She knew from very jump how emotionally compromised he was. He only saw one narrative and ran with it. Blinding him to any other possibilities this case had. Lucy was the one with cop eyes for him. Brought Monica back in knowing she could get more out of her solo.

The second thing I love is once again is the personal growth from Tim. He doesn’t question her doing this. Isn't mad about it. Hears her logic and her telling him like it is like she does best. Letting him know his judgement was clouded. That Tim couldn't see past the version he wanted. Tim doesn’t disagree. At all. She took charge of this case and he’s not upset in the least. Just curious and asks her what she’s found? I’m just so proud of him. It’s not easy to work on yourself and he has so very much. It shows so much in moments like this.

We cut to Tim back at his dad’s room. There is a finality in the air as he walks in. Gives his dad that shot of patron he has been wanting. Like Tim is giving him little something to gain passage into talking him. To say how he’s really feeling. Calls his dad out on what really happened. What he learned from Lucy. Frank was beating Monica. She lost it one night and killed him. Ran to Tom cause she was terrified. He helped her stage the house.

His father goes off saying she deserves a medal for what she did. That he was an abusive brutal bastard. This where Eric should win all the awards. He is so masterful in his inflections, The emotion in his voice, The tears in his eyes, His facial expressions, Everything. How he calls his father out for being the exact same thing. His reaction is the same as my mother is anytime I bring up something from our childhood. Defensive saying they’re nothing like what you’re bringing up.

Being defensive because they know it’s true. Or so deluded they truly think they did no wrong. Not sure which one is worse tbh. Tom trying to take credit for who Tim became. That he turned him into a man. His reply is so so good. The deep emotion’s in his voice as he tells him off. Saying he became who he was despite him. Yeah you did babe. As did I with my parents. His final words an amazing slap to his father's face. ‘Goodbye dad. I hope it hurts.' I hope it does too.

I would like to say first I adore her coming to hospice with him. Knowing he would need it after confronting his father. Knowing him so well. He would never ask for her support directly. Lucy recognizing this and coming for this reason. He needed her and she knew it. She watches him emerge from his father’s room so distraught. Immediately asking if he’s ok? Lucy looks like she wants to cry the minute she see's him. He looks so broken and sad. Melissa and Eric are just incredible in this scene. That look of intense worry on her face. my heart.

Tim telling her right away he sure as hell isn’t. Divulging his feelings and showing how deeply hurt he is. That his father protected Monica. The way his voice breaks as he tells Lucy this. How his father never did anything to protect him and Genny. All he ever did was tear them down. Physically hurt Tim on top of emotionally damaging him for life. The pre-tears in his eyes when he says but he didn’t think twice for his mistress. Broke half a dozen laws for her...

His reply a mixture of incredible anger and deep hurt. Lucy updates him saying Monica is being processed now. That they probably won’t go after his father. Since he’s on his death bed. Tim is so drained and resigned at this point. Says 'It doesn’t matter. He will get judged soon enough..' The worry is still coming off Lucy in waves. She knows he’s holding something else back. Something that is still hurting him. She is just waiting for him to share it.

Lucy is pleading him with her eyes above to share it. It comes shortly after this. The line that circles us back to the one Lucy said toward the end of 4x08. The 'Tim Test' line she let slip. One that has been eating at him ever since. A thought that no doubt was destroying his mental health further. Adding to his overall anxiety about the connection between him and his father. Worried Lucy viewed him the same way as his father. That she associated his tests with training to the abuse his father put him through. It’s heartbreaking to watch Tim say this to her. Almost begging Lucy to relieve him of his hurt. His deep seated anxiety about this.

To alleviate him of the bottomless worry that she’s made an association between how he was abused and she was trained. NEEDING her to let him know they’re not the same. Because if they are it’ll destroy him. To think he hurt one of his favorite people because he was just like his father. It's not a thought he can handle. The fear in his eyes thinking he had done to her what his father had done to him is breaking him. Tim is unraveling at this point.

It’s the way his body language is defense and guarded as he speaks his lines above. Like he’s bracing for impact. Waiting for her to give into his deepest fears. He’s expecting the absolute worst due to his damaged past. Lucy with all the empathy in the world splayed across her face says ‘I know. You’re nothing like him…I...’ Too stunned to finish her sentence. She's hurting right along with him. Because she is seeing the load he's been carrying and wanting to relieve him of it so badly. She truly believe's he isn't like him. Needs him to know this.

I mean back in 1x04 when she defended Tim to Nolan. When she was at the height of her tests. She said he was 'Calculating not cruel.' Lucy not once believed that of him. Always saw his good heart from day one. You can see Tim take a step back from her in the first gif. His body innately trying to protect himself. He looks so broken I wanna cry. He so desperately wants her to assuage him of his fears.

Yet when she does he can’t believe the grace she is extending to him in this moment. The way he steps back instinctively. Like he isn’t sure he can trust this. That last bit of his wall holding him back in this moment. His gut instinct to retreat from having any emotions. Especially this openly with someone. Lucy can’t stand him pushing away when he’s hurting this badly. Doesn’t waste anymore time and encases him in her arms.

Rushing to not only reassure him but to comfort Tim on a physical level. Giving him the solace he didn’t even know he needed. She does this because if she doesn't she'll start crying herself. She has never seen him this vulnerable. This open and its making her emotional too. Lucy is wanting to absorb his pain, his fears and most of all put him back together. She does so with this beautiful embrace. His beautiful sunshine human wrapping him up in her arms is just what he needed. Pushing away his dark clouds with this hug. He is stiff at first with the initial contact then gives in fully below.

Hands down my favorite hug of all time because of the emotions that go with it. She then reassures him once again. 'You're nothing like him.' We watch Tim melt into her arms fully giving into the comfort she is providing. That wall she’s been chipping at since S1. That’s gone now. Utter rubble after this moment. Lucy validating him is everything his soul truly needed. His person confirming he was a good man. Tim’s body finally surrendering and sinking into her embrace once she spoke those words again. Reaffirming it for him.

Her opinion mattering the most. This moment screaming that in every way. Hearing this from her was EVERYTHING to him. Absolutely everything. I remember when I first watched this moment I was in awe of it. How perfectly he fit into the crook of her neck. Once again they fit together like a perfect puzzle piece. I also knew we were headed towards our endgame. This was our pre-getting together season. The emotional depth out of this episode alone I felt it. The hug solidified that gut feeling.

One of the many reasons why this is my favorite episode of the season. These are the moments I love so much because they’re developing emotionally, as characters and their relationship as a whole. It’s why they work so well in S5 when it finally happens. The bond, the growth, the things they went through together before they got together. It’s what created this amazing base they’re standing on now in s5 and what we will get in s6. I love their journey so much. Wouldn’t trade a single thing in this slow burn. Not one.

Tim shows back up at the house. Looks like Genny has done a lot do work solo. You see the guilt splayed all over his face. He apologizes for not helping out more. Genny tells him she’s used to cleaning up messes by herself…Tim apologizes again for that and says he knows she is. He wants to be a better big brother. Genny compliments him says he’s not that bad. When he’s around....

Tim tells her that’s all gonna change. He’s going to visit for every holiday and call twice a week, and he’ll handle fixing and selling this house. That she should get home to her family. Genny replies sweetly and says he’s her family too. I do love their scenes a lot. I need more of this in s6.

She has them make a deal. That they’ll do this together and be done with it. All of it. I love this so much. There is a lot I don’t love about my childhood. But the one thing I’m eternally grateful for is the relationship with my baby sister. You can’t beat that bond. I am so happy for Tim to have it. Her asking about the gun was too funny LOL I imagine he would tell her even if it’s awkward af.

Side Notes-Non Chenford

Gonna be honest didn’t care about anything else in this ep. Other than Tamara owning Smitty’s ass repeatedly in this ep haha

Thank you forever and always to those who like, comment and reblog these reviews. Makes my heart happy. Shall see you all Monday with 4x10 :)

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gloryofluv · 4 years ago

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Reaction to You hiding under a table... (All the boys)

Hiding under a table. Reactions and laughs abound! All the brothers and the dateables.

Lucifer-

He walked into the room and saw you ducking under the table with the cloth hiding most of you. He lifts the cloth to reveal that you’re not shivering with fear at the sight of him. Obviously, you’re not just hiding like Mammon has done. Nope, you had a book and were under a… table???

Cue questionable scowl. WTF is this human doing now?

It only is more confusing for him when you glance up to see him, wave, and smile before returning to your book.

Does he even want to know? Actually, he does. However, should he spend the time to ask?

He does. He’s a sucker for you. Your response is simple. You wanted to read in peace, and (almost) no one would see you here.

He inwardly groans and tells you to go hide in his room next time.

No, he wouldn’t mind seeing you reading in there when he gets home. In fact, go ahead, make that your primary space to hide. Coming home to you would be exactly what he dreamt about.

Bonus points if you laugh and agree. Melted firstborn, anyone?

“If you insist on hiding from my brothers for some peace, you may do so in my room. I won’t be perturbed as long as you don’t tell them.”

Mammon-

Walks into the dining room to try and find something to sell for some quick coin. Scowls at the sight of your shoes sticking out from under the table.

Most definitely will crouch and stick his face in your space. This boi is perplexed at you huddled under the table with your phone.

Huh? Is this a human thing?

You smile and ask if he wants to come to sit with you.

Mammon will snort and toss an insult or bravado of some sort but still be really confused at your new place to sit.

Hiding from Asmo because he wants to dye your hair? Well, that makes a little more sense. However, he still doesn’t get it. You have a bedroom.

You pat the ground again, and he grumbles but agrees. Sitting with him, you start playing the funny Deviltube videos of demons getting scared by human items. You and he are laughing at the idiots together.

He soon wraps his arm around you as you’re cozy in the dim light. Forgetting about his task, he asks if you want to come back to his room. Ya know, to watch videos there???

If you agree, he’ll drag you off. It wasn’t the first time he was hiding under a table, but it would be your last.

“Now, human, that happens again, and ya just come to my room. I’m supposed to be watchin’ ya.”

Levi-

He was walking up to the bathroom. Usually, his nose was stuck to his D.D.D, but he caught sight of you. You were napping under a table?! What?

He thought about leaving you there. Belphie usually falls asleep in the weirdest places. However, why??? Why were you under a table? In the hallway???

Bending down, he touches your shoulder, and you wake up. He asks what you’re doing sleeping under a table like a normie?

You tell him that you were waiting for the bathroom to take a bath, but Mammon was taking forever. You got caught up reading a manga and fell asleep under the table.

Cue heart eyes and blushes! He stammers about going to use the bathroom. When he comes out, you were still under there reading.

Immediately he was a jumbling mess. Asks you if you would read it in his room instead of under a table.

If you agree, expect blushy boi to timidly ask what it's about. If you explain the plot to him, he will definitely show you similar types from his own collection!

He will likely keep you captive all night because the thought of you under a table with a manga stole his otaku heart out of his chest.

“If you d-don’t mind spending time with a disgusting otaku. You could come read it with me. I have more if you like. P-please?”

Satan-

Inquisitive and actually perceptive about his surroundings, he wanders into the library to immediately see you under the table in there. You pulled a chair over to block the view of anyone who would be just glancing in the room.

He ignores you, for the time being, grabbing the book he had an interest in reviewing. Instead of leaving, he picks that chair to sit in.

Minutes go by as he enjoys the subtle sound of your breathing and the beautiful announcement of the pages being turned when he thumbs them.

Is he curious why you’re hiding under a table? Absolutely. Will he ask? Well, he was debating on how long he’d let you believe you’re actually hidden.

Instead of asking flat out, he turns and slams the book on the tabletop, causing you to jump and bump your head. He’ll ask you why you’ve been hiding under a table at that point.

Lucifer.

Enough said. He offers a better solution to your issue. He invites you to his room, where you can seclude yourself from his fury until the firstborn is busy with other tasks.

If you agree, he’ll smirk and feel smug as hell. Lucifer will ask and ask where the human went, and he won’t say a word.

“Honestly, there are far better ways to disappear than under a table. Come to my room, and I’ll shield you from the chaos.”

Asmo-

Glorious clothes. Fabulous makeup! Asmo just returned from his shopping trip and was on a high. He walks into the sitting room to see you lying under the table.

What?

Flat out asks you what you’re doing under the table. Oh, you’re glancing at all the cute outfits in the latest Devildom fashion??? He would climb on the floor and join you if it wasn’t dirty.

Comments on the dirt.

You say that you’re waiting for Mammon, and he never looks lower than the sofa. You wanted to scare him for him stealing your hairbrush. True. Very true. A great place to jump out and scare him.

However, just not working for Asmo. Nope. Insists that you end your ploy to scare Mammon and help him go through his new things.

He promises to help you get back at Mammon with a better, less dirty plan.

If you agree, he will be skipping all the way up to his room. He’ll have you all to himself, and you both can do a fashion montage!!!

“Honey, he’s an idiot, but this is no way to treat your poor skin. Let’s go through all my new clothes and plan something far more deserving!”

Beel-

Baby boy just got done with his workout and was going to walk into the kitchen to make a snack. Walks by the dining room to see your knees under the table.

What?

He stops and scowls. This is a new behavior. Beel goes into the room and ducks down to see you huddled under the table… eating Simeon’s cookies?!

You give him a simper and offer the bag saying he can have one. Beel accepts and then asks why you’re under the table.

Hiding from the others because you didn’t want them to know Simeon made them just for you?

He's a little hurt that Simeon wouldn’t make him any, but happy that you shared. You ask him if he wants a few more because you only had a handful left.

He sits down and eats the offering with a smile. After you both have finished the cookies, he asks if you want to come with him to make a snack.

If you agree, this teddy bear is glowing. He’ll make everything you want, and you just need to sit on the counter and tell him about your day.

“If you want, since you shared, I could make your favorite snack. I love sharing my food with you too.”

Belphie-

Tired. Grumbly. Tired. He walks into the sitting room to see you stationed under the side table.

Um? What? He scowls and smacks his pillow at you reading a book before slumping on the sofa.

His version of asking you what’s wrong??? Well, it worked.

You tell him that Lucifer was looking for you to do a chore and figured you could plead ignorance if he didn’t find you sitting under a table.

Mammon never gets away with anything like that, and Belphie tells you so.

You curl smaller and laugh. See, he can’t find something this tiny, right?

Thump. Thump. Thump. Yes, his heart is just beating for how cute you could be. Tells you how ridiculously stupid that is instead.

You unbunch your legs and sigh. Well, he sucks at times… So, instead of apologizing, he offers to take you up to the attic and hide you in the blankets if Lucifer comes knocking.

If you agree, he walks with you all the way up, and when you snuggle on the bed together, he apologizes for being grumpy.

Turns into a melty soft boy when you run your hands through his hair and say you didn’t even notice with a smile.

“Well, if you want a plan that actually will work. You can come with me to the attic. I’ll hide you in the blankets, and we can nap.”

Solomon-

Walks into the library at RAD with one goal in mind. There was a book on energy manipulation he wanted to read. However, the goal is postponed.

Sees you under the table, and now, he’s completely intrigued. You had your book in hand. You even looked to be in perfect health. Hmm… odd.

Approaches you, and you glance up. No words. Not even a plea for help. Still odd.

He finally asks you why you’ve chosen this space to sit instead of a useful chair. You reply that there was a demon giving you dirty looks. So you ducked under a table, and the demon walked away in confusion.

He finds it fascinating that something this odd would work. Now is intrigued if that’s all demons or just you doing it.

Climbs under the table with you and asks what you’re reading. Makes no effort to remove you from under the table nor ask you to sit in the chair.

Both of you read under the table and watch as demons glance at you with pure befuddlement. Cue laughter and enjoyment. He would have never thought he’d walk into a rare social experiment with demons that day.

“You know, that poses an interesting question. Do demons insist on the same social norms as humans? Care to perform this experiment with me?”

Simeon-

Walks into the House of Lamentation to have tea with Lucifer. However, he is quite amused at the sight of seeing you trying to tuck as far under the side table near the hallway.

He walks over and ducks down, lifting the cloth, asking, what are you doing?

You rush out in a whisper that Levi is angry with you because you beat him at a game. You don’t want him to send Lotan on you!

He nods and hears footsteps on the staircase, so he stands in front of you. Levi comes storming down the staircase and asks if he’s seen you. Simeon spills a few lines from TSL. Levi is blushing and waves him off before stomping by.

He checks the hallway before bending down and whispering that you can come with him back to Purgatory Hall. He’ll explain what happened to Lucifer so he can calm Levi down.

If you agree, he doesn’t waste time to skirt you out the door and away from danger. What a freaking angel??? Well, maybe it’s a little selfish. He gets to keep you safe, after all.

“If you would like, you can come with me and have some tea to calm your nerves. You look shaken, and I do hate to see you out of sorts.”

Luke-

Skips into the sitting room at Purgatory Hall and immediately scowls. What are you doing under the table???

Walks over, and you press a finger over your mouth. You thought you saw a bat. A flappy bat in the sitting room! They see with sound.

What??? Is it a blood-sucking bat??? Does it eat humans? Are things like that really in the Devildom?

Climbs under the table with you and looks around with a hint of anxiety on his face. It doesn’t help that his clothing tickled your arm, and you jumped and screamed.

Insists that you both run into the kitchen to tell Simeon! He’ll know what to do!

If you agree, both of you are bolting into the kitchen to describe an exaggerated version of the event. Your fear was enough to scare this wee angel. You weren’t scared of demons, but were of a bat??? This had to be a very evil bat!

“If we run as fast as we can, it won’t find us right away! Simeon will be able to help!”

Barbatos-

He was well aware of lunacy thanks to his very creative prince. There were things he just expected to weave sideways from the norm. However, you under a table in the hallway of the Demon Lord’s Castle wasn’t one he foresaw.

Should he bother to ask? Yes, he best do so. Bends and questions your oddity.

You explain that one of the Little D’s was yelling at you for walking on their clean floors. It called you a stupid, ignorant human. You wiped your face, and he noted the blotchy color of your cheeks. Well, someone was going to have an unfortunate accident later…

He asks if you would like to come with him to the kitchen. You could have some tea while he prepares dinner.

If you agree (let’s face it, no one tells Barbatos no), he will assist you in climbing from under the table. He will pull out a handkerchief and wipe the tears from your cheek and escort you to the kitchen.

You may not have seen it, but it did bother him immensely that you were cowering under a table. He would fix that and have you smiling in no time.

“I’m apologetic that someone was rude to you. Let me make it up to you with some tea and cookies. We will cure this bad experience with a better one.”

Diavolo-

He was enjoying the party thus far but was in need of a moment, just a brief moment alone. Walking into the dark sitting room, he turns on the lights to see you under a table. Your formal attire was pooling around you.

He walks over and ducks down to see the shock on your face and D.D.D in your hand. Asking what you’re doing in here, he smiles.

You answer with taking a break from the party. Though it’s beautiful and jovial, you were tired of dancing with so many demons.

He agrees and asks if you don’t mind the company. Actually, while he’s asking, he found a way to duck his torso under the table with you. (Big boi could actually break furniture and you if he wasn’t careful)

You show him the cute animal videos off Deviltube, and both of you begin to laugh. One video leads to six leads to twelve. It didn’t matter. It was so nice to just spend time with you.

He asks you if you want to have another table date again. He actually would sit under any piece of furniture as long as you said yes.

“I’m so glad to see you! I was actually exhausted from all the dancing myself. Care if I join you in watching whatever was amusing you?”

#obey me headcanons #obey me fandom #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelezebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo

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calwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Star Star Tours

Summary: You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now, but the public doesn’t know that yet. Keeping your secret causes some tension on James Corden’s Star Star Tours.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x actress!reader

This is my first time writing for Marvel, so I hope people enjoy! It’s just something that I wrote really quick, but I love the bus tour video, and I thought this could be a cute story. Also, Sebastian was not in nearly enough of the disposable camera pictures.

It was no secret that press tours could be draining. Being stuck in a room for multiple days while people keep asking you the same questions over and over again even though they know that you can’t really answer them. And considering how big Infinity War is, it was no surprise that there were even more interviews than usual.

That was why you had been so excited when you had heard about James Corden’s bus tour. Getting to spend the day outside, surrounded by some of your costars, sounded like a vacation compared to being stuck in a chair all day. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be chaos. Of course, you would do you best to add to that chaos.

Still, as you glanced over at your boyfriend, you thought that maybe press tours weren’t all that bad. You and Sebastian had met while filming Civil War, but you hadn’t really talked much. Sebastian was pretty quiet, and you had worried that he found your loudness annoying, so you had focused on befriending your costars who seemed more receptive to your large personality.

It wasn’t until the press tour that you actually got to know Sebastian. You weren’t sure if you had been partnered with Sebastian and Anthony because someone thought Anthony might ease your nerves about your first Marvel press tour or if they hoped being stuck with two people as outgoing as you and Anthony might force Sebastian out of his shell. Either way, the three of you had been a hit that press tour. More importantly, Sebastian had asked you out shortly after Civil War premiered.

The two of you had been dating ever since. It had made interviews a bit difficult for both of you though. You had decided to keep your relationship private. In theory, you were going to go public after a few months, but the two of you had enjoyed having a part of your lives that was actually private. It was a surprise that no one had let it slip, considering both Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo knew about the relationship. Still, it was hard ignoring dating rumors every time someone thought you must be with whatever costar you had smiled at that week.

“What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked, glancing at you before looking back the road. He took one hand off the wheel and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers.

“Nothing.” You knew that Sebastian wouldn’t buy it. Not when he had seen your goofy grin.

“Nothing? Wanna try again?”

“What if we went to the premiere together?” You kept your eyes on your hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s.

“Like together together?” Sebastian took his hand back so he could turn into the parking lot of the studio. You tried not to notice the slight frown that he wore as he thought about your idea.

“We don’t have to. It’s just that it’s been almost two years. I thought it could be a good time. Maybe everyone will be so focused on the movie that we wouldn’t be big news.” Sebastian didn’t answer as he parked. You could already see a producer rushing over to the car, no doubt to get your ready for the tour. “You don’t have to answer now. Let’s just enjoy the tour and we can talk about it later.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over towards the bus.

After you got your mic and everything, you climbed up to the top of the bus, where James gave you a name tag after doing a little bit. Immediately, you rushed to the front row and took the seat next to Lizzie. The two of you had clicked immediately while filming Civil War, and she had been one of your best friends ever since.

You noticed that Sebastian waited for a few more people to get on before he climbed on and took a seat at the back next to Winston. You tried not to read too much into the fact that he was sitting as far away from you as possible. It was possible, probable even, that he was keeping his distance just so neither of you slipped up on camera. It was a tactic you used quite often. But it was also possible that you had freaked him out when you proposed going public and now he was going to avoid you.

Shaking off the doubts in your head, you picked up the disposable camera that you had been given and started snapping pictures as everyone settled in. To your relief, Sebastian gave you a smile and a small wave when you pointed the camera at Paul and Letitia, catching him in the background. Before it could descend into total chaos, the bus began moving and the tour started.

You and Lizzie almost died laughing when Benedict had to put sunscreen on James’s legs, but he had a point. “Does anyone need face sunscreen?” you asked, waving the bottle of face sunscreen that you had thrown in your purse at the last minute. Very pointedly, you turned to Benedict and Hiddleston. “I’m looking at you two.”

“We get it, Y/N,” Anthony yelled from the back. “You’re a mom friend.” You stuck your tongue out in reply, mainly because flipping him off didn’t seem very TV friendly. Nevertheless, your sunscreen got passed around the bus. Paul tried to give it back to you without putting any on, claiming that he didn’t need any, which resulted in you and Lizzie basically wrestling him and putting it on his face yourselves. The laugh died in your throat as you began turning back to the front and caught sight of Sebastian’s grumpy face. You raised your eyebrows, but he looked away.

“What’s up with him?” Lizzie asked quietly. Apparently she had seen his expression too. You could only hope that no camera had caught it.

“Tell you later.” You tapped slightly on your mic and Lizzie nodded.

Luckily James began the tour before you could dwell on it any more. Between Don’s exaggerated pose when he took a picture of the coffee shop, getting into trouble with James for being “disruptive,” and the singalong, which you got way too into, you had almost forgotten about Sebastian’s stormy expression.

“This is actually Barbara Streisand’s holiday home,” James said, pointing at some strange, red building. “She actually designed it herself.”

“Is that true, Josh?” you called, spinning around so you could face him.

Josh shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well what do you know? You’re just the bad guy. You’re just trying to cause trouble,” James complained.

“She’s his stepmom, so I think I trust him a bit more than you, James. Sorry.” You shrugged innocently at him before turning back around the air high five Josh. Again, as you were turning back to the front, you caught Sebastian’s eye. He was basically glaring at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, which of course everyone behind you saw, causing them to turn to look at Sebastian too.

“Y/N, I am trying to give a tour, and you are being disruptive once again. I need eyes up front please.”

“But James,” you whined, huffing in your seat like a little kid, “Sebastian keeps looking at me. Tell him to stop.”

“Sebastian, I need all eyes on me, please. I am the reason you all paid to be here-”

“We have to pay for this?” Hiddleston asked, but James continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-so I need you to stop looking at Y/N and pay attention to me.”

“I didn’t even look at her. What am I not allowed to look around now?” Sebastian answered a bit too hotly. There was a brief moment where you could feel everyone look between the two of you, even James and Reggie, who had no idea why it was so strange that Sebastian had snapped like that.

“Geez, Mackie, control your man,” you joked, trying desperately to diffuse the tension.

“No way. Sebastian is not my man. He’s sitting with Winston, so he’s Winston’s problem today,” Mackie yelled back. Luckily, this caused Winston and Anthony to start bickering about who had to take care of Sebastian during the tour. Sebastian, of course, hated the attention and eventually agreed to behave and even gave you a very child-like “Sorry, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out in response and turned back to give James your full attention.

You all continued the act of disconnected celebrities as James explained what waiting in line was. Hoping to get a better view of the “normal people,” you tried to stand on your chair like you were ogling some animal at the zoo, but almost immediately at least five different people were yelling at you to get down. Apparently it “wasn’t safe” to stand on top of chairs on top of a moving bus.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?” You didn��t turn around this time, worried about seeing Sebastian staring at you again. Instead, you focused on the faux apologetic look on James’s face.

“I’m really sorry. The problem is that the rules on the tour is that you have to have appeared in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom. End credits scenes don’t count. Y/N, do you have to use the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been in three movies,” you pointed out.

“That’s right, you haven’t. So I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom. Tom Hiddleston, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m actually okay.”

“Oh, so sorry Y/N. Sorry Josh. Maybe you should ask your stepmom Barbra Streisand if you can use the bathroom at her holiday home.”

“I don’t even have to go,” you protested as Lizzie died laughing next to you.

“Well that’s good because you can’t. Now, does anyone die in the next Avengers?”

The bus was quiet as you all looked at each other. Finally, Paul yelled, “Snitches end up in ditches!”

“I thought they got stitches first,” you whispered to Lizzie.

“Apparently Paul is skipping that part,” she replied. The two of you gave each other a look before dissolving into giggles at the thought of Paul actually throwing someone in a ditch.

The tour continued with more of James’s jokes before he had the bus pull over at a comic shop. A part of you was nervous to go inside. While most of the fans that you had met were nice, you knew that there were still a lot of comic fans who didn’t like your character, or how you played your character, or that you had been cast, or whatever. You gave Lizzie’s hand a nervous squeeze, which she returned, but really you wanted to be holding Sebastian’s hand. You were each other’s biggest supporter. Whenever one of you was feeling nervous, the other was normally right there to offer support.

But instead, you walked in separately.

Luckily, everyone seemed too starstruck to gripe about anything. It ended up being a pretty nice time. You signed some comics and chatted to some fans. One girl even told you about a tattoo dedicated to your character that she was going to get. You almost had a heart attack when she asked you to write down her favorite line of yours, so that she could add that to the tattoo. Afterwards, Mackie had teased you about how much your hand was shaking when you were writing it. It looked like Sebastian was about to say something, but then a camera was suddenly in your face and he disappeared to the other side of the store.

After buying a couple of comics for yourself, you and Lizzie found yourselves in the corner of the store playing with a Scarlet Witch doll that you had bought for her. You didn’t notice when she looked up with a small frown on her face, but you did feel the hand that came to rest on your waist. You looked around quickly, making sure that no cameras were on you, before meeting Sebastian’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Seb?” you whispered. Without you realizing, Lizzie snuck away to give the two of you some privacy. Or as much privacy as you can get when you’re wearing a mic and possibly being filmed.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I just got kind of jealous and I snapped a little.”

“Jealous?” You put your hand on Sebastian’s arm to keep him in place when you felt him begin to back away. “Jealous about what, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” He waved his hand around a bit at the rest of the group. “Just seeing your hands all over Paul and joking around with everyone around you.”

“Lizzie and I were forcibly putting sunscreen on Paul. I did that to you before we left the house this morning. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Sometimes it just feels like you always have everyone’s attention and you’re joking around with all of them and you never pay attention to me.” You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing at the adorable pout on Sebastian’s face. “And I know that we kind of have to ignore each other sometimes because we don’t want people to know about us, but I just always wish that I could be joking around with you too. I have so much fun talking to you and being around you, and seeing other people having fun around you when I can’t is just annoying sometimes. It’s like I always want to be right next to you.”

You placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s cheek, making him meet your eyes. “I always want to be next to you too. And most of the time when I’m joking around with other people, I’m wishing that you were there too. But right now, we should get back to the others. It’ll be a miracle if we haven’t been caught on camera.”

“Oh I asked Anthony to make sure that no one would be paying attention to this side of the store.”

“Is that why he’s been yelling for the past few minutes?”

“He’s the best choice for a distraction, unfortunately.” You grinned at Sebastian as you wrapped your arms around him. Smiling back, he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“That’s way too bold,” you scolded him. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way we would be able to explain that away if anyone saw. Way too many questions.”

You began to walk away, but Sebastian pulled you back to him. “Let them ask questions. The premiere is soon and they’ll have their answers then.”

“Oh they will?” You raised your eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Of course. When we go together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” The two of you smiled at each other and were about to lean in for a kiss when Anthony was suddenly pulling Sebastian away.

“Break it up, lovebirds. I thought I was providing a distraction so you two could make up, not so you could make out. Now come on, Sebastian. We need to take a picture with that Spiderman statue outside.”

Sebastian gave you a shrug as Anthony dragged him outside. You rolled your eyes at their antics, then followed the rest of the cast as they began to make their way outside and back to the bus. You had stopped to admire Benedict’s drawing skills when Lizzie was suddenly clutching your arm and squealing. She, of course, had seen everything, though she assured you that everyone had tried their best to be as entertaining as possible on the other side of the store, so that no cameras would be on you.

You wore a smile for the rest of the tour. Lizzie kept teasing you every time you and Sebastian would sneak glances at each other. Not that you could really sneak glances when you had to turn around constantly to look at him. Once again, you got way too into the singalong. This time, Sebastian yelled encouragement at you as you sang off key.

By the time you reached the studio again, you had decided that this was really the best way to do a press tour. You waved goodbye to James and Hemsworth and you climbed off the bus. Before you could take more than a few steps, Sebastian had picked you up and was spinning you around.

“How have you two not spilled the beans yet?” Paul asked as everyone watched in amusement.

“You weren’t even being subtle at the comic shop,” Benedict pointed out.

“Y’all are lucky that the cameras love me so much that they weren’t looking at you,” Mackie joked.

Apparently, the cameras didn’t love Mackie as much as he thought. When the video came out, some eagle eyed fans spotted the two of you looking cozy in the background of a shot. Some people argued that it was impossible to say for certain that it was you and Sebastian, but your Twitter and Instagram notifications were full of people asking if you and Sebastian were dating.

The two of you decided to ignore the questions. Lucky for you, Marvel made it very clear to all of the interviewers that there should be no questions about anyone’s personal lives. All focus was to be on the movie. So you kept the fans guessing until the two of you showed up to the premiere arm in arm.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people more focused on your relationship than on the movie, so there were plenty of articles about the two of you. Apparently, you were Marvel’s new power couple. As long as you had Sebastian, that was a title you could live with.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #marvel one shot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan oneshot

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darthzero22 · 4 years ago

Text

A moment of peace

Crosshair x Neutral Reader

For a moment you find a moment of peace, but that wasn't going to last much longer, whether outside or inside the ship.

You decided to leave the ship to get some air, since after being inside for about an hour waiting for orders, it was already boring. The planet was nice, there was vegetation and the sky was light blue with beautiful white clouds. You found it hard to believe that it was in the hands of the Separatists, but that was war.

You didn't stray far from the Marauder, you had to keep an eye out in case you were called, and so you lay down on the grass. Being like this you appreciated much better the sky and the air that the planet possessed. Everything was pleasant and that's why you close your eyes. You inhale a good amount of that pleasant air and then exhale.

You remained like that for a few minutes, with your eyes closed, until suddenly a shadow covered a large part of your face, preventing daylight from reaching you. That shadow was not from a cloud, earlier you managed to hear footsteps against the grass coming towards you, but now you didn't hear them because the owner of the shadow had stopped next to you. You open your eyes and smile when you see who it was.

“That cloud has a strange figure, but it is a very attractive figure” you said.

Crosshair was the owner of that shadow. From that perpesctive you could tell how tall he was. He was looking at you standing next to you, and just as you said he looked very attractive in that pose, with one hand on his waist and a toothpick in his mouth.

“A cloud? Really? That's your idea of flirting?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“Your hair looks like the color of clouds, maybe a little grayer”

“It sounds as ridiculous as before, even more so”

“Well, I can see a little blush on your cheeks. It didn't seem so ridiculous to you then” you were smiling.

“You imagine things. So what are you doing out here? We're not on a beach”

“Oh, it's just that this planet is pleasant to me. We have seen few planets as nice as this one, so I wanted to take advantage of it”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and moves the toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

“I guess it sounded too corny to you”

“What does it matter? For me all planets are the same” he looks at you.

“But, Cross… Imagine this, almost all your life you lived and live on a rainy planet with gray skies, isn't it nice to be on one that doesn't have any of that?”

“No” he didn't take a second to answer you.

“Come on. Really?”

“I told you, all planets are the same to me. I'm only here for the missions, not to enjoy the scenery… Besides, I've gotten used to a planet like Kamino, so I don't find another planet pleasant”

“You would have to try. Kamino has its touch, but sometimes I'm a bit sad about its rainy and wet weather. Here, on the other hand, there is a blue sky, a soothing wind, not to mention that the grass is pleasant to the touch”

Crosshair sighs and leans down a little, now covering your whole face with his shadow. Now you could only see his face and not the sky.

“You are aware that a droid could appear at any moment, right?”

“I am” you smile.

Your smile was calm, which was very beautiful to Crosshair, but he wasn't going to admit it so easily. He straightens his back and looks at the sky, now allowing you to look at it as well.

“You definitely can't tell if a droid shows up around you. You are vulnerable” he lowers his head and looks at you again.

“You can't know that because you're standing”

“I'm not going to lie on the floor”

“Are you afraid of grass?” you now put on a smirk.

Crosshair frowns, then he pulls the toothpick out of his mouth to throw it in your face and you give a slight laugh at that. Your smile gets bigger when you see him sit down and then lie down on the grass next to you.

“That wasn't too difficult, was it, Cross?”

“I don't know how you convince me to do this nonsense”

“Perhaps because you love me?”

“Hmmm”

“You don't deny it, so there's your answer. So, opinion?

“Of what?”

“Wasn't it that you lay on the floor to see if I could see if a droid appeared?”

“Right now if a droid appears, you are unable to react in time”

“So I would be dead”

“In short, yes”

“At least I would die seeing a beautiful sky”

You turn your head to the side to look at him, and Crosshair did the same to look at you.

“Sometimes you are ridiculous” he said.

“You already said that” you smile.

“Because it's true” he turns his head to look at the sky again. “But I guess that's one of the many reasons I like you”

“And even though you're a grumpy on many occasions, that's one of the reasons I like you too”

You see him smile and laugh, without opening his mouth. You smile and turn your head to look at the sky again, and remain silent for a few moments.

“I admit, this planet is nice” he said finally.

“See? I told you”

“And that's annoying”

You sigh, but keep smiling, and grab Crosshair's hand, crossing your fingers with his. Again you and he stare at the sky in silence, and being like that with him gave you more peace than being alone. The reason was that you felt at peace being with him, sometimes you forgot about the war, like now. Although he would not admit it so easily, the same thing happened to him, and it was that with you he felt peace, something extremely strange because he was trained for one purpose, but with you that purpose was forgotten to him.

You decide to straighten your back and grab Crosshair's rifle that was resting near you, as he was hardly ever separated from it. You rest it on your knee and point it in a random direction to look through the scope.

“I think I can now watch to see if a droid dares to approach”

Crosshair was still lying down, but decides to tease you, so he raises his arm to caress your ear with his fingers, and even squeeze it a little, tickling you. That's why you raise your shoulder on that side out of pure impulse, as well as lowering your head on that side.

“Cross!” you push his arm with your elbow, and you hear him laugh.

“What?” he was smiling.

You decide not to answer him, so you again look ahead and again take aim with his rifle. It was to be expected that he would annoy you again, but now he scratches your neck with his fingers, obviously tickling you. You managed to laugh, but shut up after a second and you lower your head to stop him from continuing.

“Hey! Stop! I almost pulled the trigger!”

“It has the safety on, so relax" he smiles.

You look at him with narrowed eyes, but then you look forward again and again aim the rifle. What you wanted was to look through the scope, to see what was beyond. It looked like Crosshair wasn't going to bother you this time.

You were so innocent to think that. Crosshair finally straightened up, to be next to you, but you didn't notice, and he brings his mouth to your neck to kiss it and instead of giving you pleasure he wanted to tickle you.

“Crosshair!”

This time you couldn't find a way to stop him, the tickling diminished your strength considerably, and he knew it, that's why he continued kissing your neck and even added kisses to your ear. Hearing you laugh only kept him going.

“Crosshair! Really, stop!”

“You didn't say the magic word" he laughs a little mischievously.

You put the rifle aside, you were trying to stop Crosshair, but he kept tickling you with his kisses, and you kept laughing. All that made you end up lying on your back on the floor again, with him on top of you now, and that made it more comfortable for him to continue his kisses.

“Fine, fine!” you were still laughing. “Please stop!”

“That's better”

You start to gasp when Crosshair pulls his mouth away from your neck, because you had actually laughed willingly, and he looks at you with a somewhat smug smile.

“You always have to be on the lookout for everything, Y/N"

“Idiot” you give him a gentle push to his face, causing him to look to the side.

Crosshair laughs without opening his mouth and looks back at you. You had your cheeks a little flushed, perhaps because you were embarrassed to have lost your strength like that. He noticed it, so he lowers his face again to bring his lips and yours close together.

“It's not my fault you get distracted so easily. By the way, nice laugh”

“Sometimes I really hate you” you smile.

You break the little distance there was between your mouths and bring them together in a kiss. You start caressing his face, and he caressed your waist with one hand. The kiss was loving, and you did not separate, every time you did the distance was minimal and after a second you were united again in another kiss.

You decide to end the kiss by separating, so you grab his face with both hands, make him look up to free his neck and you place a few kisses there. You hear Crosshair moan a little as well as grunt, unlike him earlier you wanted to give him pleasure with those kisses, and it was working.

“We are not... especially in private, Y/N” he said.

“I know. It's a little payback” you finally give his neck a lick and then go up to kiss his ear.

“Great...” he lets out a sigh of pleasure. “Now it will be hard for me to concentrate on the mission"

“You’re welcome” you smile.

You raise his hand and start caressing his face again, and he moves his face a little to kiss you on the palm of that hand.

“You really make me forget about the war... Thank you" he said.

You didn't expect that to come from him, so your smile gets bigger.

“Cross, I love you...”

“I love you too, my heart”

You kissed again, and the kiss was only affectionate, you just wanted to enjoy each other's closeness. You felt him squeeze your lower lip with his mouth every time you broke away from the kiss to catch your breath, and you start stroking his hair with one hand.

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair bad batch #sw the bad batch #tbb #clone trooper crosshair #ct-9904 #clone force 99

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belit0 · 5 years ago

Text

Caught in the Act

sharinganslut

can you like have madara ruining your shit and tobirama and hashirama come in and catch you (female reader) thank you i’m just a slut😀 and fuck anon i want people to know i’m horny

We are all horny ppl when it comes to the Uchiha. I fucking support you a lot, I’m like that but with Indra

Rating: E

Pairing: [Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader]

Additional Characters: [Senju Hashirama] [Senju Tobirama]

Tw: Domination, Degrading, Roughness, Some Praising

“Tell me why do I have to be here when this is a favor requested of you?

"Because if I have to suffer Hashirama’s lack of intellect, you as my lover will too. Now find that man’s fucking coat so he can stop bothering me.”

It’s nothing new to witness the leader of the Senju lose and forget his Hokage dressing gown, but it’s something that always causes great annoyance to the leader of the Uchiha. Outraged at his old friend’s lack of responsibility, when Hashirama asks him to help find it for him, Madara only avoids exploding in the air because he knows it’s a good excuse to spend time with you and not working.

“I could be taking a nap at home… Or having some sweet jasmine tea while thinking about the beautiful face you make when you get angry… Maybe even eating something while I remember your muscles on me and- ”

“You’re walking on thin ice, [Y/N]. Shut up and look.”

With a tense posture, Madara passed by you, heading to check out the different rooms of his best friend’s house. Imitating his action, you took a different route from him, and searched the other end of the big building.

Sliding the door of Hashirama’s main room, you hit the target first. On the large two-person bed, stretched out, red and immaculate, lay that piece of cloth that gave reason to your lover’s grumpiness.

Entering the bedroom, you slid your hand over the material, feeling the softness in your fingertips. A mischievous urge attacked your mind, and a great idea to provoke Madara suddenly struck you.

Quickly, to prevent him from catching you in the act, you put on the Hokage garment, which was considerably large. Hashirama was monstrously tall, so the cloth touched the floor and dragged over it when you slid it over your shoulders.

Laughing weakly, you looked at yourself in the mirror on one of the walls, and found that the cloth was not at all flattering in your form. Even more tempted, you tried to keep your composure, and prepared for the stampede that would come upon you in a minute.

“Dear! I found it! But there’s something wrong with it, hurry up up and come have a look!”

After a second, you heard Madara’s footsteps approaching the room where you were, and the anticipation in your chest began to grow. Suddenly, you regretted your stupid joke a little. Walking down the corridor, you heard him talking, without even reaching the door.

“What do you mean by something wrong? If you did something to that damn piece of trash I swear that-”

Posing, you surprised him with a… great… idea. With both arms in the air and over your head, you put on the best smile of satisfaction that your features could have had at his reaction, and despite the growing anxiety in your stomach about his glance, you rejoiced for a second in the situation.

Yes, one second.

From the door frame, the Uchiha was paralyzed by the image you offered to him. His eyes had quickly changed from a deep black colour to a bright red, with an unnerving dancing pattern in them, characteristic of Mangekyōu.

His shoulders were stiff in their stance, his chest was forced up and down by clearly strained breathing, his biceps were increasingly inflated with every second that passed thanks to the two fists he held tightly on either side of his body.

His hair began to bristle, and the tension in the air became extremely heavy. Not brave enough to speak or look him in the eye, you put your hands together in front of your legs, bent your shoulders and your head. Reducing your size as much as possible, as if trying to make yourself invisible to Madara’s terrifying gaze, you waited for the inevitable.

With the voice that made your blood run cold and your hair stand on end, he spoke, intimidating from across the room.

“What… are you… doing… with… that…”

“I-I-”

A grunt erupted from his chest, deep and serious, animalistic, making you exult when it hit your ears. Without courage, you continued to stare at the ground.

“That… belongs… to him.”

You nodded, hoping that your good behavior would calm the beast in front of you.

“You… are… not… his…”

Another nod.

“So, tell me… WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?”

“I-IM S-SORRY-Y”

“Look at me.”

Trembling and in your reduced form, you raised your head reluctantly, staring at those terrifying red orbs. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was take off that dressing gown once and for all, show Madara that it was a foolish mistake.

“Who is your owner?”

“Madara-Sama.”

You said it without hesitation, quickly after his question, which generated a slight smile of satisfaction on the Uchiha’s face. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at you over his nose, he continued.

“Are you mine, or are you his [Y/N]?

"I am all yours Madara-Sama.”

“Kneel before me.”

“Look what a pathetic bitch you are, dressed in that shit, taking my orders without a problem… Tell me [Y/N] Why should I fuck you right now?”

Knowing your man’s habits, you answered.

“Because I’m a stupid little whore who needs your cock right here, right now. Please Madara-Sama, don’t deny it to me, I need you inside my tight pussy.

"Oh well, really? If my slut is so desperate for my dick, you leave me no choice but to give you what you ask for.”

“Please sir.”

“Come here.”

On all fours, knowing what turns him on, you crawled to his feet, where you sat back on your knees and looked at him from below.

“Use your filthy little mouth.”

Obeying his orders, you rose to the height of his hips. Biting the waist of his trousers, you captured the cloth between your teeth, and with experience you lowered it strongly to his ankles.

“What a talented little pup, an expert in doing everything without hands… Go on”

Smiling slightly at his compliment, you repeated the action, but in his underwear, revealing a semi-erect limb, which promised to harden with little effort.

“No hands, or I’ll have to take them off.”

Faced with Madara’s threat, you understood that it was better to stick to his rule than to challenge him, and you introduced his penis into your mouth, maneuvering your head at a strange angle.

Working at a steady pace, his member became rigid in a matter of a couple humid strokes and your task became easier. Moaning at the situation generated by a foolish prank, you devoured your man’s cock with hunger.

After a few minutes in the same rhythm, Madara needed a speed boost, and he grabbed your hair. Combing it into his grip while breathing heavily thanks to your supplies, he held it with one of his big hands, forming a ponytail. With the new security of the hairstyle, he was able to use your hair as a handle to press your head harder against his length. As your nose hit his pelvis and your throat begged for a break, you placed both hands on his thighs, trying to free yourself from his hold.

At that moment, he stopped all activity dead on, but did not allow you to free your mouth. Even with his limb inside your moist cavity, he moved away from you a little to stop the pressure at the bottom of your throat, and spoke.

“I said without hands [Y/N]… Did your hunger for my dick cloud your mind? No problem, I told you that I would take care of it if necessary.”

Without further ado, he took your wrists and held them above your head, fully stretching your arms. Releasing your hair, he gave you the freedom to move as you wished, but now your upper limbs were minutes away from losing circulation and falling asleep, which was a big pain in the ass.

Because that’s what Madara is really like, a big, big pain in the ass.

Taking up your task, you put your best effort to make him cum just with your mouth. Moaning over his member, your pussy was dripping from him to hear him talk, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Oh [Y/N] don’t you dare stop, keep it up, you beautiful obedient whore. Eat my whole cock like it’s all you need, I want to fill that naughty little slut’s mouth with all my cum”.

“Agh… -gasp- [Y/N] -gasp- I’m… I’m…”

A shot of hot liquid hit the bottom of your throat, while you felt his limb throbbing inside your cavity. Swallowing everything he had to offer, you dutifully waited for his release to end.

“What a good puppy… I think you’ve earned the benefit of being rewarded. Take it all off.”

With a broad smile coming from his compliments, you did what he asked, standing completely naked in front of him.

“Put Hashirama’s coat back on.”

Without wanting to contradict him and make him angry again, you took the garment from the floor and dressed it on your naked body, looking at him with curious and expectant eyes.

“In bed, lying on your stomach.”

Putting yourself in the right position, you waited.

“Show me that beautiful ass of mine, rise it up.”

Following his demand, and with your stomach still leaning on the bed, you positioned your legs over your knees, providing an easy entrance for Madara. What you did not expect, is that the Uchiha would continue with his jealousy whim.

Taking Hashirama’s gown in both hands, he tore a hole where your cunt was, accessing it through the fabric instead of removing it from your body.

“MADARA! WE ARE SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS TO HASHIR- ”

Two fingers were inserted mercilessly inside you without warning, moving towards a specific point that made you moan suddenly.

“You will not say another man’s name when you are giving yourself to me you naughty whore.”

An overpowering spanking hit your skin covered by cloth, making your whole being vibrate.

“Tell me [Y/N], tell me whose pussy is this.”

“…M-Mad-dara’s!”

A third finger entered you, moving at an overwhelming frequency. A second spanking hit your buttock before he spoke again.

“You don’t sound very convinced… I’m going to ask you again. Who is the owner of this pathetic little cunt?”

“MADARA-SAMA!”

His tongue attacked your slit for a few long seconds, before inserting his fingers back into you accompanied by more spanking.

“PLEASE MADARA I BEG YOU.”

“What is it [Y/N]? What does my slut want?”

“I NEED YOUR COCK INSIDE ME, DON’T TEASE ME ANYMORE, PLEAHHHG… -gasp-”

He got into you firmly, using your fluids as sufficient lubrication to slide in. Hashirama’s coat soon found itself soaked in the body liquids flowing from the union between the two bodies, with the hole in the fabric being the main factor in allowing penetration.

Lost in the pleasure of both, drowning in moaning and heat, neither of you noticed when the front door opened and closed, when footsteps sounded down the hall, or when two pairs of curious and surprised eyes stopped to look at the scene unfolding before them.

“M-Madara?”

The Uchiha slammed on the brakes, being able to recognize that voice anywhere. Not coming out of you, he faced the gaze of Hashirama and Tobirama.

Understanding the situation, you refused to face those men, and hid your face in your arms and the leftover cloth, holding your eyes and hoping that the shame would soon be over.

“This… well…"

Without noticing it, his pelvis moved involuntarily towards you, hitting a spot with his member just inside you and making you moan in front of the two brothers.

Tobirama blushed completely, coughing uncomfortably and looking away, while Hashirama seemed not to care at all.

"Is that my dressing gown?

"Yes… we found it…”

“Oh well… oh well… I’ll send you the ticket later… Shall we go Tobi?”

“But brother! They are using your bed, they broke your clothes, they desecrate your room! You should say something to that damn Uchiha instead of…”

A growl of fury escaped from inside Madara, who was still inside you, when Hashirama interrupted before a fight broke out.

“Now, now, Tobi, you’ll understand when you stop being a virgin… come on, there’s a new tea shop I’m really dying to try!”

“HASHIRAMA!”

The front door soon opened and closed again, and at the same time, Madara took his overwhelming step over you, thanking his beautiful friendship with Hashi from the heart.

#uchiha madara #senju tobirama #senju hashirama #madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara #tobirama #hashirama #x reader #founders #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #naruto imagines

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danger-xylophones · 5 years ago

Note

Can you do something with Cad Bane being jealous? 🥺

One for the bastard man, coming right up. (So sorry this took so freaking long, I fell into a rut and it just wouldn’t go away. But I got this written and I hope you like it!)

“You do know that you don’t have to do that right?” You asked with a wry smile on your face as you glanced out the corner of your eye at the hat-wearing bounty hunter. He huffed in response and tightened his grip on your waist in response, further wringing the fabric of his coat he’d unceremoniously tossed over your senatorial dress.

“Yes, I do.” He gritted out, voice low and dangerous as he sized up the citizens of Coruscant the two of you passed by. “This place is crawling with scum, doll. And every one of them could be lookin’ for a way to snatch up a pretty little senator like yourself.”

You snorted unceremoniously at his statement but pressed closer to him all the same. “Doubtful, Cad. But if it makes you feel better, I won’t complain.” Cad didn’t acknowledge the sentiment out loud but you felt him pull you closer again with a grumpy huff. You giggled at the angry grimace he wore and reached up to pinch at his chin. “Cheer up, you grump. This is supposed to be a romantic evening.”

With a growl, he tore his face away and pinched your side in retaliation, eliciting a shriek that you barely managed to stifle. “I’m plenty romantic, izrin. C’mon,” he grunted pulling you in a random direction, “let’s get a drink.”

“Yeah, you’re a real casanova.” You muttered under your breath. Although, in truth, there was little room for disdain - you were just happy to be out with him before your big speech to the galaxy tomorrow. Without comment, Cad maneuvered the two of you through the throng of people to a seedy-looking bar. Upon entering the establishment, your nose was immediately bombarded by the stench of cheap whiskey, sweat, and grime and you had to fight the urge to turn around and head out into the marginally cleaner Coruscant air. But, Bane’s firm grip on your waist reminded you that this was one of the few times you could be with Bane without a real threat of discovery. So, you sucked it up. The bar was filled with people of all species - some clad in armor, others barely clad in anything - and further solidified in your mind that this had to be a hotspot for bounty hunters and criminals. With that realization, you found your own arm winding around Cad’s waist to secure yourself to him. You weren’t scared, per se, just a bit wary of your surroundings suddenly.

There was a telltale rumble emanating from Cad Bane’s chest and a second later a gentle brush of his hand down the length of your arm. “I got you, izrin, don’ worry.” He mumbled just for you to hear as he continued to quietly chuckle at your discomfort. With all the confidence in the galaxy, Cad led you over to a lonesome booth in the corner of the cantina shrouded in relative darkness. He swept his free hand out to gesture for you to take a seat and you reluctantly let go of him to do so. Cad watched you crowd into the corner of the booth for a moment with crossed arms before humming suddenly, “You want anything?”

You perked up. “A Nubian Sparkler?”

“No, doll.” He chuckled at you with a slight tilt of his head causing your face to flush. “They only sell hard stuff here, none of those fruity drinks you senators enjoy so much.”

“Oh,” you coughed, “nevermind then.” You shifted in the booth and pulled his coat tighter around you. Cad shook his head at you and left without another word, making a beeline for the bar. With your lips pulled into a thin line, you admired the duros leaning on the countertop of the bar from the comfort of the corner of the booth. You were an odd pair, you knew that - a senator and a bounty hunter. Sometimes you wondered how this relationship even came to be and how it continued to work. You knew it had started out as just sex but it had definitely grown into something more. There was this underlying tenderness you couldn’t pinpoint.

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Reluctantly you dragged your eyes away from Cad and to your right just in time to make eye contact with a man who was hesitantly approaching you. But the second your eyes met his, he suddenly started to swagger over to you. He was conventionally attractive with lightly tanned skin from frequent exposure to sun - Tattooine native, perhaps? - fluffy looking red hair, and high cheekbones to balance out his still baby-round cheeks. He had sparse armor that looked brand new and a pistol strapped to his hip that glinted in the low lighting as if it had been freshly polished. Everything about him - from the brand new armor to the arrogant swagger - screamed young and naive. And not your type. Although you knew he probably wouldn’t pick up on the nonverbal signal, you set your face and looked back to the bar where it appeared as though Cad Bane was getting ready to threaten the trandoshan standing next to him.

“Hey.” Like you had predicted, the man hadn’t picked up on the hint. Inwardly you groaned, already annoyed, but outwardly you just sighed and turned to the hotshot. He was standing at the end of the table with chest puffed out, one hand on his hip, the other on the table as he leaned forward, and one foot crossed over the other so the toe of his boot balanced his leg. You had to fight the urge to laugh when you saw what you thought was meant to be a smirk on his face. You knew it was supposed to make him look confident - all it did was make him comical.

Boredly, you raised one eyebrow at him and made a purposeful show of sizing him up. After another quick glance at Cad, (who was indeed pointing his blaster at the Trandoshan hunter next to him) you decided to spare the kid his wrath. “Not interested.” You stated with a click of your tongue. His face fell immediately.

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” He protested, pose faltering, in a higher voice than he had initially greeted you with.

“Don’t need to, move along.” You remained firm.

“Can I at least get your name?” The man continued, even going so far as to slide into the opposite booth. You bristled immediately.

“No. End of story. Now move along.” You repeated, going so far as to make a shooing motion at him. Again, you set your face and returned your focus to Cad while remaining keenly aware of the persistent young man that was still seated in the opposing booth. The situation at the bar was escalating at a steady rate (The Trandoshan had his own blaster out now) and so was your agitation with the man as you could feel his gaze on you.

“Oh, I see...” he mumbled suddenly, startling you enough for you to look at him. He was leaning on his elbows on the table now with fingers tented beneath his chin and a focused gleam in his eyes as he darted his gaze between Cad and you. “You’re interested in Cad Bane.”

That did pull a huff of laughter from you and you subconsciously wrapped the coat still concealing your high-ranking status closer. “Yeah, that’s a word for it.”

“Uh huh...well, what if I told you that I could set you up on a date with him?” You froze, trying to process what he had just said whilst fighting the urge to tell him to take a good long look at what you were wearing and what seemed to be missing from the duros bounty hunter.

“I’d say you’re a dirty liar.” You settled for instead.

He shook his head frantically, further ruffling his fluffy hair. “No, I can do it - but it’ll cost you.” His face changed, a scheming grin replacing the uncertain and dejected look he’d previously worn. You raised your eyebrow at him again, mildly curious and gestured for him to say his piece. “I want to know your name.”

“And I want to see you follow through on this,” you kept your voice stern, already imagining how well that would go. Although you’d started this interaction wanting to spare him from Cad, now that he was being stupid enough to try coercing you into accepting his invitation you found you didn’t care. A final glance at the bar showed you Cad Bane standing over the body of the Trandoshan, quickly downing a shot of some bright green alcohol. He’d be coming back in a minute. “I’m Padme.” And he wouldn’t spare the young upstart.

“Padme...a gorgeous name.”

At that you did laugh but quickly covered it up with a faux sheepish thank you. “And you are?”

“Cristen Tiel.”

You hummed. “I gave you my name - now you go talk to him.” You nodded your head to the duros that was just turning away from the bar to face your booth. You could see the exact moment he noticed whoever this man was because his hand immediately landed on his blaster, his eyes narrowed, and he began to storm over. You glanced at Cristen just in time to see him blanch. A silky laugh slipped from you at the sight. You straightened up in the booth and obnoxiously adjusted the lapels of Cad Bane’s coat along with your hair, making a great show of preening for the approaching bounty hunter. It caught the attention of Cristen and he wilted. With a small smirk of your own cast in his direction, you left the table and stepped in the way of Cad before he got to Cristen. “Cad, your friend here was just telling me about how he could set me up on a date with you.” You purred, letting one hand fall on his chest in both a romantic gesture and a way of forcing Bane to halt.

Without looking away from Cristen who looked about ready to piss himself, Cad’s hands came up to lock onto your waist. “Did he now? Mighty kind of him.” He lowered his voice, dipping into that low drawl you knew he used to intimidate targets. “’Specially considerin’ he owes me for bailing.”

“B-Bane! Um, I...S’good to see you made it out! Uh...I-I was ju-just keeping...uh, Padme here company!” Cristen stammered out as he hurriedly got to his feet, a loud thunk following when he smacked his knee against the table.

Wordlessly, Cad looked down at you and you just shrugged in response. “Yeah...” he began, “my fullua is quite charming.” Cad finished in a low voice, one hand creeping around to encircle your waist completely while the other fell to his blaster again.

Cristen swallowed nervously, eyes darting down to the blaster and back up to Cad and then to you. Calmly, you looked him dead in the eye and mouthed the word ‘run’ and that was all it took for him to start scampering. He didn’t get far though. Just as Cristen got to the door of the cantina, a single blaster bolt cut through the air and speared him right in the back. The young bounty hunter fell forward and landed flat on his face. A hush fell over the bar as patrons looked to the body with the smoking hole in the back. Then, all of a sudden, everyone sprung back to life - completely ignoring what had just happened. The next moment, Cad was pulling you out of the cantina and back out into the Coruscant night life.

Angry mutterings slipped from the duros, a mix of basic and durese too condensed to make out any words as he roughy cut his way through startled citizens all milling about. You chose not to fight and just let the man lead you wherever he deemed appropriate with an oddly amused smile on your face despite technically just witnessing a homocide (perhaps, Cad was rubbing off of on you more than you realized).

Cad took a hard left and eventually came to a stop in an alleyway still fuming and muttering about the cantina. He released you almost violently, as though your skin had suddenly burned him, and began pacing in front of you. You took the opportunity to lean against the only clean spot on the wall and fold your arms across your chest. Cad made two more laps before you decided to call out. “Cad.” Nothing. “Cad.” Still, no response but his angry mutterings transitioned fully into durese. “Cad.” You pitched your voice higher and added a lilt but still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you pushed off of the wall with your foot and stepped in front of him. “Cad!” You yelled at him and grabbed his forearms before he had the chance to reach for his blasters out of habit.

“What?!” He yelled back.

“You need to calm down.” You lowered your voice back to its normal volume and released his arms to cross your own. “We’re not in the cantina any more, there’s no need for you to be this worked up.”

“I am not worked up.” He huffed.

“Right, and I’m not in love with a hard ass.” You fired back with a mocking nod of your head. Cad’s jaw tightened at the sass but he ultimately remained quiet. In the silence that followed, you took the opportunity to examine Cad in an effort to pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. With an idea in mind, you glided forward and reached out to cup his face with both hands. “Thank you.” You quietly murmured, watching his face for any minuscule reaction.

“For what?” He asked, hands settling on your hips this time in a stronger than normal grip. You took a note of it.

“For dealing with...that back there. He was starting to get on my nerves.”

“One of the reasons I keep on tellin’ you to carry a blaster.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of the ongoing argument. “I would, Cad, but you have to admit it would look a bit strange for a senator to be lugging around an LL30-blaster pistol.”

“Be attractive though.” He muttered, bowing his head just slightly to brush his lips against your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling as your hands fell to rest against his chest, not exactly use to Bane’s softer side peeking out, but he paused suddenly. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t.”

You eyes flew open and you sent the bounty hunter a disbelieving gape as you received the confirmation to your theory that you needed. “Cad, listen to me.” Your voice grew hard as you snapped your head up to meet his eyes. “I want you to take a good long look at where we are.” Cad, albeit reluctantly, did as he was told before returning his attention to you with a questioning squint. “Look at what I’m wearing.” He gave you a quick once over. “Look at where I am.” While Bane seemed to retreat into his head for a moment, you were quick to curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and press your face against his chest, just below his clavicle. “We’re in an alley way on Coruscant, alone, while I’m wearing your coat - a coat, might I add, that you never let anyone touch - while you’re holding me in your arms.” You lifted your head enough to gently press a kiss to his jaw. “What further proof do you need that I’m yours and that I’m not leaving you?”

Cad took a moment, letting one of his hands previously resting on your waist travel upwards to the back of your head. With the new positioning, he was able to angle your head upwards and to the side. Finally, he dropped his head enough for him to murmer, “The rest of the galaxy to know,” into your ear. Without warning, Cad was walking you backwards and firmly pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss that stole the air from you lungs. Your back met the wall of the alley with a harsh thump that pulled a startled yelp from your throat that was swiftly muffled by Cad’s mouth. Still, he persisted, pressing you against the wall and never straying too far when the need for air arose. You separated again, chest heaving in a hurried attempt to gulp down the much needed air before Cad decided to continue. But, it seemed like the bounty hunter had found something else to concern himself with. While you were distracted, Cad moved to your neck and immediately found his mark high - just under the curve of your jaw - where nothing you owned would cover. You couldn’t even find the energy to be annoyed - too consumed by the feeling of Cad sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin.

Slowly, he pulled away and brought his hand up to clasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “There,” he hummed with a disarming smirk while he angled your head to the side to examine your neck, “I expect to see that during your speech tomorrow, fullua.”

#cad bane x reader #cad bane #star wars #clone wars #star wars: clone wars #dane's writing

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Pull Over (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Warnings: Fluff!! description of a dead bird, swearing, not edited

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: On a cross country road trip with your boyfriend Frankie, you wake to a beautiful sight...

A/n: I’ve pining for Frankie all week, add this gorgeous prompt photo and this is the result

---

You woke up slowly to the sound of Frankie mumbling along to the radio, as he had been when you fell asleep. Blue sky was all you could see out the window as you slumped in your seat, it wasn’t until you sat up properly that you saw the majesty of your surroundings. You gasped at the sigh of the expansive red dirt, sun dancing on the endless road ahead in mirages. The last time your eyes were open you were driving through concrete suburbs, a far cry from the desolate and beautiful desert you drove in now.

“Holy shit, Frankie!” You exclaimed, choking up in emotion at the sight through the windshield. Frankie startled at your sudden proclamation, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” Tears streamed down your cheeks, happy tears, shocked and amazed tears. You wiped them quickly from your eyes hoping your fiancé wouldn’t see.

“Are you crying?” Frankie laughed, turning his head for a moment to look at you properly. He didn’t miss the tightness in your voice.

“Shut up,” You sniffed, wiping your eyes, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t know you’d react like that!” Frankie continued to laugh at you, “And besides you looked cute!”

“That is not an excuse!” You exclaimed, cheeks heating up at his compliment, “Oh Babe, it's so beautiful,” You sighed happily. You pulled your phone from your jeans and took pictures through the truck window. They’d come out blurry and scratched, Frankie knew that. Then he had an idea.

“Do you want to pull over to take a proper photo?” He asked. Your mom had recently given you her old polaroid camera, the one she used when you and your siblings were younger. Having been there as a stop on the road trip already, it was sat in your bag waiting to be used. Here would be the best location to start, he thought.

“Really? What about your schedule?” Ever the military man, Frankie liked to have a plan and stuck to it religiously. You’d been on the road for two weeks, he had planned every moment down the minute. He’d refused to stop at rest stops, despite if he himself needed to pee, all in the name of the schedule. You were surprised he was allowing the break.

“Baby I can allow five minutes for a photo I’m not a complete hard ass,” He chuckled, “there's a stop point up ahead, I’ll pull over there and you can take some,”

You cheered and began to root around the stuffed backpack in the footwell to find out the camera. Frankie pulled the truck up ahead a few meters, parked and you jumped out eagerly.

“Fuck me it’s hot,” Outside of the cool AC in the vehicle, the air was dry but scorching hot. You could practically feel the soles of your shoes melting to the tar as you stood on the road.

“It is a desert,” Frankie said, looking around at the expansive nothingness.

“Really? Would never have guessed!” You stuck your tongue out at him, he copied and you quickly snapped a photo. Frankie pouted and reached for the paper as it printed but you were fast and slipped the photograph in your pocket before he could get it and ruin it.

Frankie wandered around the truck, you walked a few paces in the opposite direction enjoying stretching your legs. You’d been driving for eight hours, even if you had been asleep for the last two hours, your legs were cramped up. You stretched them out as you walked through the red dirt, watching your sneakers slowly become red stained too. You snapped a photo of Frankie leant against the truck staring off into the distance, a photo cliffs in the distance and then...

“Ah gross there's a skeleton!” You exclaimed. A half rotted carcass lay on the side of the road, bones pale under the beating sun it had been there for a while. It used to be a bird, though its feathers were gone. You stepped closer to it to get a better look.

“Don’t go closer to it!” Frankie said, walking over to you to look at it too.

“What? It’s already dead, it’s cool!” You peered at it, gagging as the smell of rotting flesh hit you. You retreated back to him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you took in the expansive desert surrounding you.

“I do worry about you sometimes,” He teased you.

“As you should, baby,” You grinned and kissed him quickly. “Take a picture of me, I’ve got loads of you,”

“Watch for cars,” Frankie warned as you stepped into the middle of the road.

“Somehow I think I might see them,” You joked, it was clear from miles around you. You stood in the road and posed for the photo, waiting for a moment before calling back, ”Did you take it?”

“If you stop moving!”

“I’m posing!” You laughed, Frankie raised a brow. “Fine I’ll hold still for you, slow poke,”

“Got one,” He said after another couple seconds. You sighed and jogged back over and took the developing photo from his fingers. You smiled, it was a really nice photo actually.

“That’s cute! You are a surprisingly good photographer,”

“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” He smiled proudly.

“That you are,” You pressed up on your toes and kissed him on the lips again, “I’m going to take a couple more and then I will be back in the car and we can get to Vegas!” You sang, doing an excited dance at the thought of finally getting to your destination. Frankie cheered too and laughed heartily before giving you ass a little tap and letting you go.

He watched you wander about in the wilderness ahead, ever the adventurer. Unlike him, you didn’t really know the harshness of the world. You knew the things he had done, the things he’d seen, but only through stories. You weren’t hardened to the world like he was, like he used to be. Pope always teased him that you’d turned him soft but Frankie couldn’t find fault in that if it meant he could have moments like this. Usually a small reminder in his head would tell him to watch the back mirror, to watch for people hidden on the side of the road. Now, he didn’t think about any of that and instead watched you stride fearlessly into the unknown, smiling at the wildness taking photos as if you belonged among the rocks that surrounded you.

Your smile was his favourite thing in the world. He would rather die than never wake up to see it again. You brought so much joy into his life, even when things were tough to hope that you would stick around long enough to smile again helped him through. Through fights, through low moments for the both of you the smile always sat as the prize for getting through the dark. It was what he dreamt of stuck in the Andes, it was what drove him home when he wanted to run away from everything. You.

The question had been his head the entire trip. He wanted to ask at a good time, a romantic spot meant something to the two of you. One memorable and meaningful. His plan was to take you out to California, where you’d met, and propose on the same beach. But each day with you in the truck was making him impatient. He nearly slipped it out when you had sex in the horrible motel you’d stayed at the night before. He was desperate, couldn’t wait another day to ask you to be his for forever. Now, watching you and your reaction to seeing it waking up from your nap. Maybe he didn’t need California, and past memories. Maybe he could make new ones here in the middle of the desert.

He watched you walk back to the truck, slipping the last polaroid into your back pocket. You opened the door and smiled at him. That smile. The decision was made. He had to ask now.

“What?” You asked, with an awkward laugh. You could tell he wanted to say something. He didn’t so you began to pack up your camera, putting it and the polaroid photos you’d taken away safely.

“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” He asked, you stopped fiddling with your backpack and looked back up at him. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

“What?” You were surprised. You had spoken about marriage with him, from the beginning of your relationship you had joked about being grumpy grandparents on a porch swing together. You just didn’t think Frankie was the type to just ask like this. You sat up and looked at your boyfriend. He was staring directly at you, he cleared his throat and readjusted his shirt.

“Marry me? Tonight. In Vegas,” He said with more confidence, “Our friends are already there, I don’t have ring but we can go get one when we get there and I-,” He stopped, catching himself rambling, getting excited at the idea, “I would like to marry you,” He admitted, with a hopeful smile.

“You’re serious?” You asked, shocked at his words in the best way. Francisco didn’t speak, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. He needed an answer, “Yes of course I’ll marry you! Yes!”

“Thank fuck,” He gasped as you leaned over the console and kissed him hard. You’d kissed him a million times, but this was special, a new spark.

“I have one condition,” You said as you pulled away.

“Anything,” He smiled, eyes starry looking at you, so full of love.

“I want an Elvis impersonator to officiate” You tried to remain serious but couldn’t fight the grin on your lips. Frankie laughed and shook his head, “And you need to call my dad,” You said seriously, “I know it takes away from the spontaneity but he’d be-,”

“Already asked him, two weeks ago,” He interrupted you. Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“We were at their- Oh my god that’s why Dad had that stupid grin on his face when we left, isn’t it?” You gasped, hitting his arm playfully.

“Maybe,” He smirked, proud of himself now his plan had fully worked out. You gaped at him,

“So you really planned to propose next to a decaying bird?” You looked at the skeleton again, curling your lip at it.

“The bird wasn’t in the plan,” He chuckled, turning your attention back to him with his hands on your cheeks. You smiled and leant into his touch, affectionately.

“I love you Frankie Morales,” you whispered.

“I love you too sweetheart,”

---

tagging: @autumnleaves1991-blog the wonderful host of this awesome game

@hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @this-cat-is-dea @wille-zarr

#writer wednesday #frankie morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie x reader #triple frontier x reader #x reader #francisco morales x reader #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character x reader #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #fluff #x reader fluff #frankie x reader fluff #molly writes

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kjhmyg · 5 years ago

Text

rough edges pt. 6.5 (m)

pairing: jungkook | reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk, fluffy too :( warnings: swearing, drugs word count: 1.5k

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / part 6.5 / 7

author’s note: a short filler chapter.

RE asks tag

Suga’s drink lands on the table with unnecessary force, earning some stares. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

After a text from Jungkook asking to meet, he figured it would be nothing more than a good lunch with his buddy. But as Jungkook settles into his seat and opens his mouth, the older boy closes his eyes in disbelief.

Jungkook expected nothing short of absolute resistance from him. “She won’t get in the way."

"She already is."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Suga lowers his voice, eyes wandering to the bouts of people walking around the mall on this lovely Tuesday. "Let’s not pretend you weren’t about to run off with her and have ten children a few weeks ago."

Jungkook’s eyes shift uncomfortably, fingers mindlessly drumming the armrest of his chair. "I wasn’t thinking straight then."

"Yeah because of her.” He stresses the last three words.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with Y/N the last time.” He gives Suga a questioning look. “What’s with the sudden hostility towards her now?”

“That was all fun and drinks.” He states, like it’s obvious. “Also, don’t lie to me and tell me she can handle what goes down at the club. What really goes down."

"I’ll keep her out of it.”

“How?"

"She can stay in the office and help out with our accounts and inventory."

He watches Suga think it over, knowing it’s a sure win for him after now that he’s brought up the accounts. It’s the one thing he hates with a passion and they alternate the task every week. But with you around, he wouldn’t have to set eyes on those numbers anymore. Or liaise with the grumpy old man who supplies them toilet paper.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jungkook smiles in victory. “Don’t front, you actually like her.”

“She’s alright.” He sighs. “I’ve said it before, I don’t care that you’re dating. But I’m still worried about you.”

“I’m feeling better now and I promised I’d get my shit together, didn’t I?”

“Kyun’s on to you, you know?”

Jungkook’s quirks a brow at him curiously, edging him to go on.

“The dip in your deals.” He says. “That’s the reason RM joined us. You need to watch him.”

“Not like there’s anything I can do about it,” he shrugs, “half of my buyers switched over.”

“That’s what I said to him.” Suga looks at Jungkook like a dad giving advice to his son. “He’s willing to let your numbers slide but you need to prove yourself and show up more. He wouldn’t have sent RM on campus if you hadn’t ghosted your buyers back then.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a thin line and scratches his head. “Sorry. I’ll keep up. I promise.”

“Don’t let her distract you from doing your job.”

“It’s not her fault.” He sighs, “I’m just…”

“Lovesick?”

“Shut up man.” He kicks the older guy under the table and they laugh, mostly out of embarrassment for Jungkook. Then he shakes his head until the smile on his face goes off, staring at nothing. “I love her.”

Suga observes his little brother, worrying it might be harder to keep the two of you apart than he thinks. “Love is a strong word.”

“Well I feel very strongly for her.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly.

“Dude, I get it. She’s sweet, kind, caring, cute, has this vibe that makes you always wanna be with her and⎼”

“And you better watch it ‘cause you’re starting to sound just like the voice inside my head.”

“And it seems like she loves you too.” He finishes, making Jungkook smile.

“You do get it.” He grins proudly, thinking about how excited you’d be if you knew just what Suga thinks of you.

“But…” Suga continues, crossing his leg over the other and pauses, choosing his next few words carefully. “She might not even be the one.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying, you’re still in your honeymoon phase. Everything looks and feels great now. But shit happens and sometimes relationships don’t work out in the long run. Feelings fade. I don’t want you to risk what you’ve got going on now for something that might not even exist in future.”

The words hit Jungkook hard. He can’t even bear to think about what would happen if you weren’t together anymore.

“Real talk alert.” Jungkook laughs bitterly. Suga looks at him, unimpressed at the lame attempt to brush his feelings aside.

“Just think of it as another one of your casual relationships. Don’t set yourself up for disappointment.”

He knows that’s impossible. Your relationship is vastly different from the ones he’s had before this. Even with the ones he dated exclusively, he’s never felt the same way as he does for you now. To reduce your entire relationship right now into nothing more than a fling, would be heartbreaking not only for you but for him as well. At this point even calling you his girlfriend doesn’t seem to do your relationship justice. He nods but it’s only to get Suga to stop.

“Alright, let’s go.” Jungkook gets up, a sudden change in mood.

“Where to?”

“Just come with me.”

Past the rows of retail stores, they head into a separate section of the outdoor mall which houses sports stores and other recreational studios. Large see-through windows allow passer-bys to view inside. Jungkook comes to a stop in front of one of them and Suga follows behind, stopping just short of bumping into his back.

“Amazing.” Suga says, staring approvingly at the ongoing class. Of course, then he spots you in one of the rows and realises why he’s here. “I love pilates.”

“It’s a yoga class.”

“Oh whatever, it’s hot.”

The class moves from a downward facing dog to a puppy dog pose, bottoms in the air, chest and chin on the mat. “Goddamn.”

“Dude.”

“What? You brought me here!” He reasons, “We already look like perverts standing in front of this window, I might as well enjoy it.”

“You’re so embarrassing.”

“Y/N has her ass up, face down right now, are you not staring too?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, eyeing groups of people walking past them.

Rolling his eyes away from Jungkook, he watches you, and your butt, and thinks about what Jungkook proposed earlier. “You sure about this?”

Jungkook turns to him. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know, buddy.”

“Please? It’ll only be temporary.”

Suga presses his lips together. “Only for a couple of months?” He asks and Jungkook nods. By then you’d have gotten a new job anyway, he’ll make sure of it even.

“Alright fine,” he says, but before Jungkook can celebrate he holds a finger up to stop him, “but on one condition ⎼ I’m not babysitting, you come in for work together so you can keep an eye on her.”

Jungkook slaps him on the back as a way of saying thanks. “No problem.”

It’s a nice surprise, leaving class to find the both of them standing there, waiting for you. Hana tugs the back of your top, wary of Suga’s presence. He doesn’t seem to notice her though as he eyes the hug you give Jungkook.

Without Jungkook telling you they have some good news for you, you would’ve never guessed with the way Suga remains looking indifferent.

“Remember what you said about working at the club?”

“Yeahhh, what about it?” You ask slowly.

“You’re in.”

“What?” Hana and you simultaneously say, though hers was more in shock.

She gets ignored as you squeeze Jungkook’s hands and start bouncing on your toes. “Really?”

“You start tomorrow.” Suga says. “Don’t be late.”

You nod enthusiastically, moving in to hug him but he stops you and takes a step back. Seconds later you gasp, then smile timidly at him. “Can I start the day after instead? I have some papers to complete.”

“Already going against the boss before you even start?” He shoots you a look which tells you he’s less than impressed at your antics and that cute face won’t get you any special treatment. Shaking his head, he looks at Jungkook. “Whatever man, you deal with this.”

“Thank you!” You yell at his back as he walks off in the other direction. Then you wrap around Jungkook, resting your chin on his chest. “Did you do this?”

“Mhm,” he nods, “but it’s only temporary, got it?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together.”

“Yes, sir.”

He scoffs, though he admits it sounds nice when you say it. There’s something quite exhilarating about all this. Now, you get to be near him while he works, though, you still haven’t figured out what the plan is and Hana will most likely grill you about it later.

“You’ll just be helping us with some admin stuff. We’ll discuss your pay later, probably have to have you sign a contract but we’ll see. No need to dress for a club but make sure you get some sleep before that okay? And make sure you have dinner.”

Pinching both his cheeks and bringing his face down to yours, you give him a peck on the lips.

“Yes boss!”

#jungkook fics #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #rainworks #myfic

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fandomlurker · 4 years ago

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A Ponderous Rewatch: Pavlov’s Mice and Cameo

So thanks to Tumblr nerfing my ability to make an admittedly absurdly long post combining the previous episode rewatch with this one, I had to do this entry in two parts.

But at least now we’re in for the real treat: The first episode in airing order that’s animated by TMS Entertainment. And hey, even the Animaniacs show itself seems to acknowledge that this is special, because theme song rhyme is…

We're Animanie! Totally insane-y!~

Pinky and the Brainy!~

…which hasn’t been done since their debut. So this is gonna be fun.

Might as well get this out of the way, then, since this episode obviously involves Ivan Pavlov. I think most people who know of Pavlov through cultural osmosis pretty much know him as just “that one scientist who got dogs to respond to the sound of bells as if they were being offered food”. This is what happened, but it’s only part of the story. In reality, Ivan Pavlov was doing research on the physiology of digestion in dogs and he noticed one day that the dogs he was studying started to drool in the mere presence of the lab technician who regularly fed them even if the technician didn’t have food with them. Pavlov developed a way to redirect the dogs’ digestive juices outside of the body so that they could be measured, and then he ran some conditioning experiments to see if he could get them to salivate in response to external stimuli that had nothing to do with food, like ringing a bell.

The year in the title card, 1904, was the year Ivan Pavlov was awarded the Nobel Prize for the previously mentioned experiments, which he published the results of in “The Work of the Digestive Glands” in 1897. Basically, by 1904 he was done with his work with dogs and he moved on to experimenting with mice…at least according to this article in National Geographic by Virgina Hughes.

With that, let’s begin the episode proper.

“At the dawn of the 20th century, Russian scientist, Ivan Pavlov, trained animals through his technique of conditioned reflex” says the narrator as we zoom in on a laboratory with Pavlov and our lovable mouse duo.

“Time to earn your dinner, my little mousey friends!”

It’s interesting how Pinky is the one that flinches uncomfortably at the loud sound of the gong while Brain simply snaps into his conditioned response. And that response? Uhhh…

“I’m a little teapot, short and stout.~”

“This is my handle, this is my spout.~”

(Is he…you know…?)

“When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!~”

“Tip me over and pour me out.~”

Oh no… This is a cute and funny scene and all, but when you know about Brain’s canonical issues with how he hates not being in control of a situation and all the traumas he’s endured (for those of you not in the know, yes, Brain does have a lot of trauma in his backstory that we learn about much later, both in the 90s spin-off and the reboot) regarding both general control and losing family and friends…there’s a bitter tinge to this scene.

He’s so embarrassed and humiliated.

He takes the cheese but he is positively fuming with rage, and I can’t exactly blame him from what I know about him.

This is made all the worse by Pinky’s innocent reaction to Brain’s little song and dance.

“Hahahahaha! Wonderful! Hahaha! EGAD, Brain, I could watch you do that dance all day! Haha, narf!”

For Pinky, this is harmless silliness and he gets to see Brain sing and dance and “have fun”, which is not a usual occurrence. But for Brain? Well...

“You have watched it all day, Pinky. Sixty-one times, to be exact. It’s a conditioned reflex to that infernal gong.”

“I’m powerless to stop it!”

Well, Brain, at the very least it’s not like you were a part of a more inhumane experiment like one regarding, say, learned helplessness or anything. …Oh wait. Whoops. (For those sensitive to animal abuse, I suggest refraining from clicking on the second link, and caution against clicking on the first if even more clinical text descriptions of such would upset you. The third link is spoilers for the reboot.)

All that aside, it seems like it’s Pinky’s turn. He gets the more traditional bell chime for his stimulus.

And the result is him going into an uncontrollable and very enthusiastic Slavic folk dance.

With violent results. I hope you appreciate that last screencap, as the animation goes by so quickly I had a lot of trouble isolating the part where Pinky kicks Brain and he goes flying.

Pinky is all too happy to get a reward of cheese, his favourite food, for doing something that he has no memory of.

“What’cha doin’ over there, Brain?”

“Contemplating your afterlife, Pinky.”

That’s not exactly fair, Brain, you know he has no control over this. To Brain’s credit, though, he doesn’t bop him or anything for kicking him involuntarily.

Pavlov leaves, playfully saying that he hopes the mice dream of cheese tonight, and the mice are immediately down to business.

“At last, he’s gone.”

“Now we can begin our conquest of the world!”

We’re already back to it being “our” conquest of the world, eh?

“Behold my latest creation, Pinky: The Vacuum-o-nator.”

Brain has never been good with naming things, has he? At least, not so far. I wonder if this will continue throughout the franchise?

Pinky is certainly very happy and impressed, though.

“It uses reverse air pressure to vacuum everything toward it.”

You know, I was just about to roast Brain for thinking that making a very odd version of a vacuum cleaner was such a brilliant thing, but then I remembered that this takes place in 1904. The vacuum cleaner as we know it was “invented independently by British engineer Hubert Cecil Booth and American inventor David T. Kenney” in 1901 according to Wikipedia, and portable vacuums were available to the general public starting in 1905.My apologies, Brain, that actually is very impressive.

Although, this all hinges on if the viewer considers episodes that take place in the past and/or at different locations than Acme Labs California to be mere Alternate Universe/What If? stories or Brain and Pinky using some kind of time machine to go to a different place and time for these episodes. (Before you tell me that this is just a cartoon and sicc the Please, Please Get a Life Foundation on me, I do this to have fun and maybe educate myself and the reader along the way. I promise I have a life. Barely.)

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

“Uhh… Yeah, Brain! But where are we gonna find rubber pants our size?”

Pinky, that’s… Listen, folks, don’t make the same mistake I did and google “rubber pants”. It’s not what you think it is. You will be disappointed.

BONK!

Seems like you’re enjoying yourself there, Pinky.

“No, Pinky. We’re going to use the Vacuum-o-nator to steal Russia’s crown jewels!”

Man, the animation for even this one small proclamation by Brain is so, so good. Brain standing authoritatively and holding the pen like a scepter or spear, the grand sweep of his arm as he says “no”, the serious and slightly menacing expression on his face, a violent and grabby swing of his arm on the word “steal”, and a dramatic point and look up towards the sky when he finishes. TMS does great work, folks.

“Narf! Genius, Brain!”

Look at Brain’s satisfied smile at Pinky’s simple compliment. Remember what I said earlier about Brain going through his explanations to show off to and impress Pinky? At this point I’m absolutely convinced that that’s why Brain turns up the theatrics more than necessary when going through his plans. After all, Pinky is (oddly and rather sadly) the only one in-universe who thinks Brain is a genius and a good person.

…Of course, the effect can sometimes be lessened by subsequent innocent bumbling.

“Turn it off, Pinky.”

He says this so exasperatedly yet so deadpan at the same time, it’s great.

“Oh! Right-o!”

Even Pinky immediately knows that he fucked up.

“Zort! Whew! Wild hairdo, Brain! Heh heh, I like it.”

He even pets Brain’s “hairdo”, aww. And though I personally could take or leave the ‘do, I like the pointed, sharp look this mishap’s given to his ears.

BONK!

“Now I feel cleansed.”

Okay, this one might have been a little too much, Brain.

“But Brain, aren’t the crown jewels always guarded by giant Cossacks?”

Well, Pinky, from what I know Cossacks were usually used extensively in the police force and as border guards during this time, so I guess that’s possible?

Brain picking the lock with the pen is a fun little detail.

“Don’t worry about the guards… For tonight, Pinky, at precisely 1 am, there’s a total lunar eclipse. “

Again, this is probably not a thing the average person could look up quickly and easily in the 90s and the writers most likely didn’t care about accuracy here, but there were no total lunar eclipses in 1904. There were some penumbral lunar eclipses in March and September of that year, though. Just a fun fact for you folks.

“The Earth’s shadow will completely cover the moon, blacking out all of St. Petersburg for a period of 30 seconds.”

Brain…?!? Brain, how did you get the diagram on that piece of paper to animate like that? What kind of Harry Potter-style magic bullshit is this?

I know this is a cartoon and all and I’m not truly upset but this honestly came out of nowhere and made me do a double-take.

“In that brief time, we will sneak past the Czar’s guards under the cover of darkness and steal the crown jewels…for he who controls the jewels controls Mother Russia!”

More dramatics!

“But…I thought your mother’s name was Désirée?”

I love Brain’s pose here. Very grumpy and sassy.

As for Pinky’s comment: We do get to meet Brain’s parents way later in the spin-off, though neither are addressed by any name. I’m taking this joke as canon anyway because it’s funny.

Well, well, well… Looks like we’re shaking things up a bit with an inking instead of a bonk. That’s gonna be a pain to get out of his white fur, though.

“Soon, Pinky, I will rule Russia…so from now on, call me Czar.”

Another sassy hand-on-hip pose.

“Right-o, Brain!”

“—eek! Czar Brain!”

“Come along, Pinky… Conquest awaits!”

Nice to know that despite the inking, Pinky’s still following him anyway. Plus he’s doing it with that fond look on his face again. Hmm…

What follows is a cute and ingenious sequence of Brain launching Pinky and himself through an open window via the spring force of a mousetrap. It goes by very quickly, but I just wanted to highlight a few things I managed to notice while pausing through it. Kudos to the animators again for these little details.

Pinky’s the one that wraps one arm around Brain’s shoulders so that Brain has both hands free to spring the mousetrap properly and so that they’ll be launched together.

Interestingly enough, Pinky’s the cautious one who braces for impact right away while Brain gleefully flies through the air with his arms outstretched.

The “camera” changes perspective and while Brain is still boldly flying forward with confidence, Pinky is still worried but has now opened his eyes as they fly towards the window.

Pinky’s still holding onto Brain and the Vacuum-o-nator as tight as he can. As they get closer to the window, however…

…Pinky seems to realize he’s going to smash into the wall above the window if he doesn’t let go, so he lets go of Brain. Brain doesn’t realize where his trajectory is taking him.

Pinky angles himself downward and through the open window, but it’s too late for Brain.

WHAM! RIP, Brain.

But his pain is not done! It looks like Pinky’s landing was in the soft snow. Meanwhile, Brain slides down onto the window and through the opening, only to bash into the lid of a garbage can, much to Pinky’s concern.

Then Brain falls headfirst into the snow.

And finally, Brain is clonked on the head by the same garbage can lid, which makes a loud gong noise. Someone get this poor mouse some Aspirin.

But since there was a gong noise, you all know what that means!

Cutely, Pinky joins in on the dance in the middle of it.

“Ha! Oh that was fun, Czar Brain! But let’s give it another go, right? Only this time with feeling!”

Man, that side-eye at the beginning from Brain…

Pinky’s body language is great in this episode, too. The gleeful flapping of his arms and feet and the “with feeling” gesture are fantastic examples of his more open and energetic nature coming through.

Oh hey, there’s that one shot of Brain being ticked off used in the spin-off theme song! I can’t exactly blame him for his anger here. He just went through a lot of pain in a short amount of time and was then involuntarily made to humiliate himself. Pinky doesn’t mean to be mean here—he genuinely wants to have some sing and dance fun with Brain—but it’s gotta sting to have the humiliation highlighted.

Pinky still doesn’t deserve a bonking for it, though. But it’s slapstick, so he’s fine.

Heh, “deliveries to rear” indeed.

Oh, are those jingle bells on a sleigh that I see?

Uh oh…

“No, Pinky… Not now!”

It cannot be stopped, Brain. He must dance!

Another quick detail as Brain launches himself at Pinky’s midsection to either topple him over or hold him still to get Pinky to stop.

Alas, Pinky’s dancing is too strong.

OUCH!

The face of regret.

His punishment is swiftly thwarted, though.

“…That was unpleasant.”

They take a different and more uneventful ride on a hay wagon to the palace.

I love the exaggerated perspective going on here.

Peekin’.

“We made it inside, Brain!”

“…’Czar Brain’.”

“Czar Brain.”

He says it so quietly and sweetly, aww.

“Yes, Pinky. There are fleeting moments when I even amaze myself.”

I…don’t know if it’s much of an accomplishment yet, Brain. Settle that ego down a bit.

Oh, that’s some classic Looney Tunes-style sneaking animation there.

Wait, why is the door to the treasure room just open behind them? Czar Nicolas II, what gives?

Speaking of…

Hello, Czar Nicolas II. I hope you’re enjoying your “eclipse party”. You only have another 14 years or so to live it up, after all.

“In just a few minutes, it’ll be totally dark and scary. OooOOoo!~ But don’t anyone touch me, I have cooties!”

I, uhhh. Okay, then.

Same, boys. Same. Best to get down to business.

“Behold the crown jewels of Mother Russia, Pinky. World conquest will soon be ours!”

Again, world conquest is “ours” and not just Brain’s. Also you can just tell Pinky’s thinking “I’m going to wear so much of this jewelry!”

“Now, Brain?”

“Not yet. Wait for the total eclipse.”

Speaking of…

“Complete darkness, Pinky. Start the Vacuum-o-nator…”

“NOW!”

That gonging noise is an interesting choice for a chime. Surely this ornate clock is only an omen of good things for our duo.

Pinky, you’re swooning again. And Brain…

Oh no.

Another clock! Who’d have thought Russian nobility loved clocks so much? This one has a more pleasant bell chime, though.

…Oh NO!

Well, looks like things are going to hell pretty quickly.

Goodbye, boys.

Goodbye, Czar Nicolas II! You might wanna look out for a man named Grigori Rasputin in the future, okay?

Nice hat, Brain.

“Whu--? The eclipse is over? Narf! What happened, Brain?”

BONK!

“Zort! I mean, Czar Brain.”

“We failed again, Pinky… But just wait until tomorrow night!”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brain?”

“What else, Pinky?: Try to take over the world!”

It was a nice try, boys, but honestly I don’t know how you were going to fit all those crown jewels into that tiny improvised vacuum bag, anyway.

One last cute little detail in this episode is our mousey duo jumping up with enthusiastic determination in front of the silhouette of the moon on the last note of the theme reprise. One day, you guys. One day…

Oh! And before I forget, have another short cameo from “Plane Pals”. It’s a tiny one.

Pinky and the Brain steal a sheep off of an airplane. For what purpose? Who knows? But that’s it. I’m kind of wondering if the writers wanted to make a running joke of them making cameos to steal random things for world conquering purposes and just sort of gave up.

Anyway, so ends our recap for this post. It sure was a long one, but what can I say? There were some very cute details that needed to be shared. Have we learned anything new this time? Well, I mean, besides historical trivia.

Brain thinks both he and Pinky are great actors, despite his own near inability to lie and keep up an innocent pretense. Oh, he can be sarcastic, sure, but he can’t seem to manage to stop himself from revealing that he’s out for world domination whenever he has an audience.

For the first time we see Brain’s annoyance and humiliation resulting from him being a lab mouse. Though it’s on the more subtle side at the moment, Brain seemed extra grumpy and violent during that last episode because of the conditioning he’s unwillingly gone through. I’m curious to see if there are any more examples of this before we reach an episode touching on his origin story. Or…one of his origin stories, at least. There’s around four of them last I checked and all but one of them can reasonably fit into the others.

Pinky is truly beginning to show how much he adores Brain, which is nice. Beforehand we knew he was down with his world domination plans for whatever reason and also that he thinks Brain’s plans are great and ingenious. Now, though, we’ve gotten to the point of him literally swooning at Brain and his plans. Something’s definitely brewing there.

Next time: We get some more substantial cameos, join our mouse duo on a Fort Knox heist, and meet a new character that is both pretty important to the “lore” of the show going forward…but also doesn’t appear in person after their introductory episode until the very end of the Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain spin-off run.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Pavlov's Mice #Plane Pals

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ikefool · 5 years ago

Text

Nothing special

Summary: My entry for @delicateikemenmemes‘ Theo Route Countdown Party D-3: Theo & what breaks his heart.

Rating: Angst, feels. All that pining and raging imposter syndrome that comes with hurting this grumpy man.

Pairing: IkeVamp Theo x Reader

Word Count: 1236

A/N: I queued this for earlier but for some reason only the title got posted? Tumblr get it together.

The paint is not yet dry, but still Theo knows that this will be a masterpiece by the time it is done. That once the thick brushstrokes made by his brother’s hand swirl together into a single image he will be taken into his world once again; where the soft rustle of sun-warmed grass brings with it the scent of bright orange zest, where the sweat that clings to his brow is there because of that afternoon’s games. And soon, when the sun that now sits high in the sky hides behind the wooden houses, it will be time to come home to a crackling fire and a warm, hearty dinner.

He resists, as always, the urge to reach out and touch the splotches of color that hint at bright, blooming flowers. He knows that if he does his hand will come away wet with fresh paint; knows that he will not feel the tickle of grass, and the scent of his childhood will turn to the sharp, warm smell of linseed oil.

Theo sighs, this has not made things better in the slightest. He had come here to clear his head, to stop the unrelenting rush of thoughts that threaten to turn into a headache. But he can’t seem to get you out of his mind. He pictures you dancing, laughing as the grass tickles your ankles, hem of your dress stained with the soil underfoot. He has to turn away from the canvas.

You’re like the art in front of him. Bright and colorful and new, and Theo dares not touch lest he smudge the smile off your face, the spark form your eyes. He can hardly understand you, and he can understand his need to be near you even less. Your kindness is relentless, infuriating even; your laugh (the real one, devoid of politeness) makes something settle inside of him; you seem to know every part of him, easy as breathing, and in the quiet pauses between one conversion and the next, the sadness that seems to make its home in your eyes makes something strange wrap around his ribcage and squeeze.

He sighs, hands twisting the fabric of his coat. He already knows what this is, but he cannot bring himself to admit it, even if just to himself. It was only fitting that he would come to feel this for a human, the first shining thing that stepped foot into the mansion and inside his own walls. He’s pathetic, making all kinds of excuses to spend time with you, fighting the crazy urge to stuff you into his coat and protect you from any harm, spending his nights awake and pining like a foolish teenager. And yet, as much as Theo spends thinking about you, he can’t understand why you would want to spend time with him.

Out of all the people in the mansion, he is the only one without some form of genius. The drive to keep selling his brother’s wonderful art and to discover more talented artists had been great enough that it had brought him back from death, but after that? The only reason he lives in the mansion at all is because Le Comte was a gracious enough host not to separate him from his older brother. He spends his days surrounded by beautiful music that brings the halls to life, discussions of space and engineering that fly right over his head. Even his best friend in the mansion, a flirt and a scoundrel, is a talented enough writer that his work will be alive for centuries to come. It’s easy to forget.

His only talent seems to be that of keeping people away, shaping words into sharpened points and schooling his emotions behind a hard glare. And yet… and yet you’re undeterred. You seek him out, are kind to him without asking for anything in return, even with the barbed wires he has for a personality. He can’t begin to imagine why, but gods damn him, he’s grateful for it. As undeserving as he is of it, Theo still soaks in your presence when you grant him with it, still accepts every smile, every compliment you give him like they deserve to be his.

“Theo?” At first he thinks he’s imagined the lilt of your voice. He’s spent enough time going back over the sound of it every time you speak for it to finally come haunt him without his permission. But when he turns back there you are, standing hesitantly on the doorway, fingertips touching the frame.

“Oh” your eyes shift from him to the painting at his back. “It’s beautiful.”

Theo crosses his arms and frowns, even as he nods. “It’s not done yet, Hondje, you shouldn’t poke your snout into other people’s businesses so readily.”

To his surprise, you smile. Theo gulps down the urge to press his fingertips to the edges of it, he grips his arms tighter around himself. “I’m sure Vincent would let me see it, but I’m glad to hear you protect your brother’s work so fiercely, even if there’s no need to. I’d never do anything to harm Vincent, or one of his paintings for that matter.” As you speak, you step closer. Theo knows you’re just trying to admire the art up close, but he still shifts nervously to make room for you at his side.

Your words soothe him, even if he had known since the beginning that you posed no threat. The problem is that every time you say something like that it leaves him floundering for his composure, he should’ve just kept his mouth shut.

You hum softly and Theo turns to you as if beckoned, he’s surprised to find you staring at him instead of at the intricately woven colors of the art right in front of you. “Gotcha” you smile, “I knew you didn’t actually hate me.”

Theo’s breath does it’s best to get caught in his throat. He stares at you for a second (at the wisps of hair escaping your hairdo, your candlelit skin, your quirked lips…) before quickly turning forward again. He wants to pull away from you, clear his head. At the same time his fingers ache with the need to pull you closer.

He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, stare into your eyes until they tell him what you see every time you look at him. A failure? A brute? A friend? ...more? Someday, my bright-eyed girl, I’ll tell you I don’t want you and you’ll believe me, I’ll say something that stikes pain like a match stikes fire; or I’ll run out of words, and you’ll realize just how much of a fake I am.

Instead of speaking again, he just huffs, and prays the single note doesn’t betray what he wants to say. “I’m no good, my love. I will be stubborn and mean and entirely undeserving of you. I will try to tear your gaze away from me, and keep you all to myself. You’re the spring sun of the home I see when I close my eyes. And every time you go down that hallway I’m terrified that you’ll leave me without saying goodbye, that you’ll leave me at all. Please, stay a little while longer, and then some more, and more still…” Theo rolls his eyes at himself, chastising.

“You’re not that bad,” he says instead.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Consider. mayhaps. leaving feedback?

Taglist; @juminly

#Theo Route Countdown Party #Ikemen Vampire #ikemen vampire fic #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theo angst #ikevamp #ikevamp fic #a thing that i wrote

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everything-withered · 5 years ago

Note

Prompt "Flowers for a dead girl" Ichigo is SOFT, he did this literally since the beginning of the manga

I hope you don't mind an AU take on this!

Rukia knows for a fact that someone is stealing flowers out of her garden. She knew it had to happen some time. Her window opens almost directly into the pavement, and placing anything on the window sill is just asking for it to get stolen.

The grandmother that was staying at the apartment before Rukia had offered that warning lightly, before gifting her with the aforementioned flowers.

"You can't even keep cacti alive," Renji reminded her with a snort to which she'd pinched him and said, "Shut up, there's a first time for everything."

And while the flowers weren't anywhere near as healthy or full as when she'd received them, they were still in bloom! Which made their theft even more upsetting, and didn't get better once she'd realized that it probably wasn't the first time either.

I knew I wasn't imagining the flowers looking a little thin, she thinks both vindictive and resentful as she pets the leaves in apology. Whoever has been taking them plucks them straight from the stem, like a monster.

"I think it would be worse if they'd been clipped," Hisana tells her, "that would imply premeditation."

Rukia scowls. "So I should just be grateful that whoever's been kidnapping my violets is doing it because it's convenient?"

"Well," she trails, "maybe you shouldn't leave your flowers in a place where they can be easily kidnapped."

"That's victim blaming and I will not stand for it." Which is not the reason Rukia doesn't move the flower pots -- her apartment is a closet at most, and the window is the best place to keep plants anyway -- but that doesn't mean she'd refuse to move it out of spite. It's for the continued wellness of her flowers, Hisana, will you please be a good sister and just let me complain??

"Where's your sense of romance, Rukia-chan?"

She scoffs.

"Just picture it," Hisana continues, starry eyed, "a thoughtful lover on their way to be with their beau when they see your flowers and think, what a lovely gift to give their love!"

"I'm sure their love would appreciate it more if they didn't dig it out of someone else's garden," Rukia deadpans.

"It's the thought that counts."

"I think they're cheap."

"Rukia!"

Refusing to move the flowers from its perch, however, doesn't mean Rukia is taking the continued theft of her violets lying down, romantic reasons or not. No, sir. She borrows Renji's Go-Pro and points it at the window for a couple of days.

For awhile, there's no bite, and she gets several hours worth of footage of her window sill: people walking past as they carry on with their day as the violets in their planters giggle in the breeze and stretch in the sunshine before drowsily drooping off to sleep at dusk. It's pretty soothing to watch played back. But Rukia is not convinced. Her thief will be back.

Almost a full two weeks have passed before she's proven right.

The guy in the footage looks like trouble; unfriendly and scowling, Rukia isn't surprised at the appearance of her thief. While she wouldn't have pegged a guy with a leather jacket, too many rings and a leather cuff wrapped around his wrist to steal flowers, Rukia isn't going to judge him for that. Oh, no. She's too busy being incensed that this...this...asshole took way more violets than he did last time!

She has no idea if he's going to show up on the same day as before, but Rukia prepares for it. She sets up camp far enough from the window that she won't be seen, and waits.

Almost to the minute, a shadow lingers, and Rukia is ready! She throws the windows open with a dramatic flourish and shouts, "Gotcha!"

A white butterfly, having been innocently resting on the petals of the flowers, is startled by her sudden presence and almost flies into her face. Fortunately, the guy, to Rukia's satisfaction, recoils anyway, almost to the point of falling over as he yells back in surprise. "What the hell?"

"Caught you red handed, thief," she declares which he promptly doesn't approve of because the orange haired jerk is arguing, "I'm not a thief."

"Oh yeah, then how do you explain taking my flowers?"

At that, he splutters, "Your flowers?"

"Yes, my flowers," Rukia tells him, scowling. "I live here."

"No, you don't," he has the audacity to say. "Akiko-san lives here."

Realising it was the grandmother who'd been letting the apartment before her, Rukia's anger cools. "Not anymore. She moved out. She left me the flowers you keep stealing."

The guy's face goes through an impressive array of emotions before settling on a fine combination of disgruntled and embarrassed. "...ah..."

With a considering look, Rukia says, "I assume if you know the grandmother by name, you must've had an arrangement."

"In not so many words," is his vague reply, and though it should make her suspicious that he's lying for all that he's still blushing to his ears, Rukia decides that it's no real harm done. Just a misunderstanding.

Although, if this guy's been stealing flowers for his girl for as long as it would take to be acquainted to a grandmother he's not related to, he clearly needs help sealing the deal. Nodding to herself determinedly, course of action decided, Rukia tells him, "You can take the flowers."

That startles him, and to her relief he's not nearly as grumpy when he isn't frowning. In fact, now that she's actually looking a him, he's pretty handsome. High cheekbones, defined jaw, full lips, brown eyes. Yeah, this should be easy, she thinks with a huff. "But I'm meeting whoever you're giving them to."

"What."

Hmm, Rukia thinks. Maybe that's why he hasn't gotten a date yet...though, instead of telling him that, she poses, "Do you want the flowers or not?"

Which is how Rukia ends up meeting her thief on the sidewalk five minutes later.

"My name is Ichigo, not thief," he corrects.

"And I'd tell you it was nice to meet you, but one of us shouldn't be a liar," Rukia sniffs, and while this makes him scoff, he's also smirking a little the next time she glances at him.

"Who are you anyway?" he asks, and she thinks, rude.

Though that thought doesn't stop her from replying shortly in kind, "Rukia." Then, just for good measure, "And you could be a little less rude, I don't know how you expect to get a date with that kind of attitude."

He makes a noise of disbelief but flushes all the same.

As they walk, he eventually asks, "Why do you want to meet her anyway? The girl I give your flowers to."

"To make sure she's worth it," Rukia says. "Is she?"

There's no hesitation, "Yes."

She hums, and she could pry into Ichigo's relationship with this mystery girl, but instead she asks, "So you couldn't just buy her flowers?"

And at that he looks embarrassed, though he hides it with the same disgruntlement as before. "I always forget, and your window is on the way there. It was just...convenient."

"Nice," Rukia snorts. "I hope you don't tell her that, nothing makes a girl feel more special than stolen flowers."

After a thoughtful pause, he asks, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Her eyes narrows. "Not originally." Before, "Why?"

At that, Ichigo shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, gaze pointedly at some middle distance. "Because this is probably gonna get uncomfortable."

Rukia's brows are still furrowed in disbelief when she finally realizes where they're headed. "Oh."

Opening the gate, he lets her through first before following after.

He doesn't explain, and she doesn't ask as they walk together through the gardens. Despite his earlier decree, he seems uncomfortable too; shoulders drawn to his ears, frown deepening and eyes going distant.

Rukia almost wants to turn back around, but there's something volatile in his fragility, and she doesn't want to be the thing that shatters it. It isn't until they've come to a stop that he speaks, telling Rukia sardonically, "Well, you wanted to meet her."

And there's a lot of things a normal person could say when faced with a headstone, things like I'm sorry for your loss, and I can't believe I was a jerk to you. Along with other things like why would other people be so aware of the loss of your mom that you had to ask if I was from around here to know of it? and I'm sorry people think of you in relation to whatever tragedy caused your loss.

Except Ichigo looks like he's already preparing to block it out after too many years of too many people being too aware of his grief, "You're not from around here, are you?"

So what Rukia does instead is bow, and say, "Kurosaki-san, I'm sorry your son is cheap."

Ichigo is so surprised by her that he doesn't even think to be offended, instead spluttering in denial. His mask of nonchalance cracked, Rukia continues earnestly to his mother, "If I'd known he was relying on my subpar gardening skills, I'd have tried harder to make sure the flowers he got you were in better shape."

"Shut up, I don't know what you're talking about. Your flowers are fine," he argues.

Then, in a hiss out of respect for Kurosaki Masaki's final resting place, Rukia says, "They're for your mom, Ichigo, oh my god." Aloud, she tells his mother, "I'm so sorry, I know you raised him better. I'll make sure he gets you proper flowers next time."

"You'll make sure of that, huh?"

"If you insist on taking flowers from my window, yes, next time," Rukia tells him with crossed arms and a haughty look. "I can't believe you were stealing flowers for your mom."

"Hey," he defends, "you asked if she was worth it, was I lying?"

She rolls her eyes and persists, "Next time, we're bringing her something better."

"Fine, it's a date."

"Fine," Rukia huffs in return.

It's only after Ichigo's walked her home after a detour to a convenience store to replace her violets, and a reminder that he'll pick her up next week, does Rukia realize what she's agreed to.

To her newly purchased sunflowers, she shakes her head and says, "I can't believe he stole a date right from under me!"

#ichiruki #deathberry

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, theydraggedmein!

For @theydraggedmein. I hope you like this story!

Fic inspired by Melsephant's Monster of the Week Comic, specifically Solidarity and by the freedom of creation from my Secret Santa giftee

Tags: Supernatural is somewhat known, Stiles is a Selkie, Alive Hales, Friends to Lovers, Quickburn, Workplace Setting, Light/Background Angst, Communication

Read On AO3

*****

Selkie Solidarity

Stiles’ alarm doesn’t go off when it’s supposed to and he wakes up about two hours late for work.

Thankfully, he has an understanding boss with even more understanding bosses, so when he calls in, they just tell him to get himself there safely and don’t worry about it.

Stiles hops in and out of the shower so fast his suit doesn’t even have time to dry before he stuffs his clothing into a waterproof bag, chucks his phone and wallet in too, and leaps off his balcony to do a perfect seal dive into the water below.

He makes good time swimming, but nothing changes the fact that he’s late and he and his office mate were supposed to be running expense reports all day today.The final step before the merge negotiations happening next week.Thankfully they got most of it done this past week, but still, Stiles feels bad about slacking when his office mate is such a good sport. Without him there, Derek’s probably gone a little grumpy around the edges, the way he always does whenever Stiles is inevitably late.

Stiles passes a delicatessen and backtracks. He’s already late, so a few minutes more isn’t a huge deal, and Derek does love everything bagels.

Stiles climbs out of the water, ducks behind some brush, and sheds his suit. He tugs on his clothes, checks his phone for messages—none—and grabs a twenty out of his wallet.

Then, bag slung across his back, he troops into the deli and orders three everything bagels, two for Derek and one for him because he hasn’t had breakfast yet.

Then, it’s an exchange of his clothes for his suit, making sure the bag with the bagels is secured in his bag, and then leaping back into the river to finish his commute.

He’s already apologizing when he races into his and Derek’s office.

“Dude, I know I’m so, so late, but, look, I got us bagels!”

He stops short at the sight of Derek, shifted into his full werewolf form, hunched over his computer and poking at his keyboard.

He looks miserable, his snout long and dripping with saliva where his teeth are too big to retract anymore. His claws keep catching on the keys and he stares at them sadly before huffing out a sigh and starting again.

Stiles digs out the bagels and plops the bag onto Derek’s desk. Comically, Derek’s nose twitches. He looks at Stiles with his baleful eyes before gently opening the top of the bag and with far more care than Stiles is used to seeing from Shifted-Derek, he plucks out a bagel and pops it whole into his mouth.

As Derek chews with the power of a ravenous wolf, Stiles glances at the little calendar Derek keeps pinned to his side of the office.

“Oh man,” Stiles remarks, tracing the outline of the day. “Full moon? That’s rough, buddy. I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugs and picks out his second bagel. “s’okay,” he mumbles, spraying saliva and crumbs everywhere. “T’nks for bagels.”

His over large teeth and flopping tongue make his words nearunintelligible and kind of fascinating. Stiles wishes Derek would talk more during his shifts, but he also knows that Derek doesn’t like making messes even though he’s good at cleaning them up, so he tries not to make messes. And talking with his shifted mouth is about the messiest Derek can be. Second only to eating while shifted.

Stiles takes his bagel and sits down to boot up his computer. Derek hasn’t eaten his second bagel, and instead seems to be waiting for Stiles to start eating his. A quick bite confirms this, and Stiles smiles at Derek.

“So, shall we get those expense reports done?”

No argument from Derek, who seems to be trying to savor his second bagel.

Whatever. It’s cute. That’s why Stiles got them for him. He likes doing things like that for Derek, even when he isn’t almost two and a half hours late.

After a few more minutes of Derek struggling to type with his claws, Stiles turns to him. “Should I shift too?” he asks, gently. Derek barely moves his head, but Stiles feels stared at all the same. “I mean, if you’re stuck in your form, wouldn’t it be less awkward for me to be shifted too?”

“Work?”

Stiles shrugs. “I was late today. How productive am I really going to be?”

Derek looks at his keyboard. It isn’t really functional, and he’ll probably just keep tapping at it and then replace it on Monday when he can shift back. “Broken?”

Stiles waves his hands. “They’re flippers, dude. I don’t think they can do that much damage.”

Derek tilts his head while he thinks about it. It’s such a cute pose that Stiles has to physically turn back to his computer and enter his password before he accidentally squees out loud or something equally embarrassing.

“Okay,” Derek finally says. “T’nks.”

“Be right back!” Stiles grabs his bag and skips off to the bathroom where he exchanges his clothes for his suit and then happily bounces back to his and Derek’s shared office.

Derek straightens for a few minutes when Stiles gets back. At first, he thinks it’s because Derek is laughing at him. Stiles isn’t the most graceful in his human form, but in his seal form, he’s simultaneously better and worse at moving. If the office were water, he’d be grand.

Derek huffs a few times before slowly stepping off his chair and motioning Stiles to his chair. And, whoops, yeah, Stiles forgot that he’d have to climb all the way up there.

He gives Derek a hopeful bark and Derek nods. Together, mostly because of Derek’s brute strength, they get Stiles situated in his chair and ready to do as much work as his flippers can manage on his keyboard.

Surprisingly, despite Derek’s general malaise of being a werewolf in the midst of an uncontrolled shift, and Stiles’ selkie solidarity, they get a lot of work done. And surprisingly, Derek just holds half of the second bagel in his mouth for a long time before it disintegrates into mush and he swallows it.

Their boss pokes his head and shoulders in around lunchtime, some request dying on his invisible lips.

Stiles gives him a happy bark, and Derek follows it up with a less-pained wuff than he’s been giving lately.

“I just wanted to see how those reports were coming along, but I guess never mind.” Kindly, he adds, “If you ever need time off something like this, just let us know. We have a secondary set of time off for supernatural afflictions.”

Derek growls lowly before nodding. He stands up, hands his ruined keyboard to their boss, and walks out.

Stiles waits a few seconds to see if Derek will come back. It’s insulting to call their supernatural abilities afflictions, but Stiles can kind of see where their boss gets it from. He is invisible after all. There’s so many things he can’t do anymore because he inherently gets called a creep. In fact, he has to wear clothes on top of his invisible clothes constantly or risk being called out for being naked.

To him, being invisible is an affliction. To Derek, being a werewolf is like being human: natural.

Same with Stiles and his selkie side. He doesn’t even think of it as an affliction.

Derek doesn’t return, and Stiles decides that he might as well shift back and actually get something done, so he bounces off to the bathroom, tucks his suit away, and walks back to his office.

He finds Derek’s sister Laura standing by his desk. She has a note in hand and a tray of coffees. Stiles doesn’t think he was gone that long.

“Derek wanted to apologize for running off,” Laura says, thrusting the coffee tray at Stiles. One cup is already missing.

She hands him the note after he selects a mocha cappuccino. Then she installs a new keyboard at Derek’s computer and heads out.

Stiles opens the note. It’s a shaky apology written by Derek. Stiles flips it over and, avoiding the tears made from Derek’s claws, writes an acceptance of the apology and leaves it on the brand new keyboard. He’s not insulted by Derek needing time off. This full moon seems rougher than normal.

If Stiles really thinks about it, Derek’s tolerance and control during the full moons has been getting less for a long time. Almost six months. Something to think about.

He decides that he’ll bake Derek some of his prize winning double chocolate chip cookies when he sees him again.

It’s Friday today, so that means that Stiles won’t see him until Monday, and they have a meeting, so maybe he should do the cookies thing on Tuesday?

For now, he focuses on his computer and manages to complete all the expense reports they had planned.

5:00 rolls around and Stiles all but dances into the bathroom, switches into his suit, slides his bag on, and bounces out into the river for his commute home.

~ * ~

All weekend, Stiles does his normal routine, which involves staying up way too late and playing online games with friends halfway across the world. Then, he takes a quick, two hour break to make his apology-accepted-sorry-your-full-moons-suck cookies, because why not?, and clean his apartment.

Monday, he makes sure he has everything, including an actual suit for the meeting with their new clients, the ones he and Derek were doing expense reports for, slides into his suit, and speeds off to work.

He barely gets to greet Derek with the tin of cookies before they both have to change into their suits for the meeting. Stiles slings his bag on his back. He doesn’t like leaving it out of sight for too long, his mom and dad impressing upon him at a young age that selkies can’t trust people with their suits when they’re not in them. In fact, Stiles has a cousin who only just got away from her abusive partner that kept her suit locked away the whole time they were married.

Their boss is standing at the door to the conference room. He is made up to look as if he’s got an actual face for once. He’s wearing gloves and is dressed fully in the required suit. It’s a little uncanny valley, but has the desired effect of making all of him visible.

“Sorry, Stiles, you need to leave your bag somewhere secure.”

“What? Why?”

One of Derek’s ears twitches as he squeezes past them and sits next to Laura, who in addition to being Derek’s sister, is the head of their IT department.

“The clients. They’re human. We’re presenting as human today. I’m sorry, but you have to leave your bag off for this meeting.”

Stiles wants to bite out something about discrimination, but he knows how hard the supernatural world has worked for this. Their firm is the first human-supernatural merger, and if it goes well, there will be others.

“Isn’t this the meeting we reveal ourselves?” Stiles asks. That was the rumor around the water cooler a few weeks back.

“No.” His boss shakes his head. “We merge. Business goes on as usual. Another, more visible, supernatural business merges with another human business. The humans are told at that merger, and if there are any uprisings, we represent cases of discrimination.”

“What if our partners end up being discriminatory against us?” one of the more timid department heads asks. Stiles thinks his name is Boyd. He’s a werewolf, like Derek. It’s a good question, and it’s good coming from Boyd. He was rescued from a hunter farm where they bred and-slash-or forced werewolf creation so that they could “find out what makes them tick.”

Thank fuck that had been shut down right quick.

That’s what these mergers are all about: eliminating the humans’ natural instinct of being afraid of or hurting their supernatural counterparts.

“This firm has been heavily vetted. There can be no room for error here,” Stiles’ boss says. “Unfortunately that means that, for the press release, there can be no evidence of supernatural. Stiles, I am so sorry, you have to leave your bag somewhere. You will be compensated for your time without it.”

Stiles scoffs. “You think you can name a price and buy off my anxiety about my suit?” He looks at Derek, who looks murderous, at Laura, frowning, one hand on Derek’s arm, like she’s restraining him, at Boyd, who looks terrified. He sighs. “Fine. I’ll go hide my bag. But,” he adds, vehemently, “only because not doing so would endanger more than myself.”

“Hurry back,” his boss says. “The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”

Stiles mutters a curse under his breath as he heads back to his and Derek’s office. There’s no place here at work that he feels safe enough to hide his suit, and there’s not enough time to call his dad to guard it for him.

Then he thinks about the file cabinet. It’s kept locked all the time. Paper copies of all the files he and Derek work on. He and Derek have keys, as does their boss. If he locks it in there, it should be safe for the meeting.

And he can check on it at lunch to make sure it’s still safe and sound. Stiles unlocks the top drawer, shoves the bag as deep as it can go, and heads back to the conference room, pausing to sneeze as some scent tickles his nose a little much. He slinks to his seat next to Derek and sits down.

Derek pats his arm, whispering, “I’m sorry,” without moving his lips.

Stiles shakes his head, turns to watch as the merging firm marches in, and the meeting begins.

~ * ~

Four hours later, Stiles heads back to his office under the guise of a quick refresher break.

When he gets to the room, he stares in shock at the destruction he sees there.

His and Derek’s computers have been knocked over, the towers scratched and smashed. Thank goodness for external servers. At least their work won’t be too disrupted while it’s fixed.

He turns to survey the rest of the room and his heart freezes in his chest.The file cabinet is leaning against the wall, all the drawers jimmied open, their contents spilled everywhere. Derek’s meticulous filing system ruined in a few moments.

But most heart-stopping of all is the fact that Stiles’ bag is gone.

It’s not anywhere in the mess and it isn’t still in the drawer he left it in.

Stiles runs around, digging frantically, in case he missed it. He also sneezes again and again, and finally pauses. He’s been gone too long. He’ll be missed at lunch, which they’re having catered in the conference room.

No. This is too important. Stiles isn’t hungry. He feels rather sick and on the verge of a panic attack.

He knows his nose is good, better than a human’s, but he knows better noses. He remembers when he first met Derek, and Derek was an awkward co-worker who claimed that Stiles stunk of the river even though, at that time, Stiles only went swimming on the weekend and used regular transport like his less aquatically-inclined counterparts.

Stiles hurries back to the conference room, grabs Derek’s arm, and drags him out, muttering something about a number or some shit.

Derek reverses their grip, holding onto Stiles as he leads him back to their office. Derek stares at the mess.

“What happened?” He doesn’t sound like he’s asking Stiles, so Stiles doesn’t bother to answer. He just goes to the file cabinet and points at the drawer where he’d stashed his bag.

Derek nods sharply, inhales deeply, and then points back out to the hallway. Stiles follows him as he goes through the building until they’re out on the street.

Lunch is probably being served now, but Stiles can’t find it in himself to worry about it. He and Derek already presented their expense reports. They’re clear for the rest of the day. It’s just that the firm wanted representation from all departments to be there for the whole of the negotiations. And lunch is also negotiations for some reason.

“Here,” Derek says suddenly, jerking Stiles into a coffee shop down the block from their building.

There’s a few customers in line and they all jump, muttering angrily as Derek budges.

He stops in front of the barista, a woman in her twenties, with long brown hair pulled into a requisite ponytail, green visor “protecting” her eyes.

“Sir, the line starts back there,” she says, bored.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Derek asks.

Stiles frowns at him. Girlfriend? He leans closer, catches a whiff of something spicy on her. It tickles his nose, and he stifles a sneeze into Derek’s back. Oh hell. They’re both still wearing their suits. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up in his throat. Derek pats at him clumsily but comfortingly.

The barista blinks. “My girlfriend is none of your business,” she snaps.

“She is when she steals something from my boyfriend,” Derek snaps back.

Stiles chokes on his spit. Boyfriend?News to him.

Derek gives him a quick, apologetic glance, before turning back to glare at the barista.

She caves rather quickly then. “Sorry. She’s in the back. What did she take?”

“A green bag, waterproof. Everything that was in it had better be in it when you get it back. My boyfriend will confirm.”

“I’m sorry about this. I thought she’d gotten over it.”

Derek just points to the back.

Behind him, the line takes a collective step back, some of the people mutter about being late, but for the most part, they all look too intrigued to leave. Shame.Stiles really doesn’t want to reveal to a whole roomful of people that he’s a selkie.

Derek grips his elbow and steers him to the far side of the counter so that they’re no longer in the line’s way. Another barista steps up and things start flowing again. No one leaves even after they get their orders. Crap. It’s like daytime TV, so hilariously bad as to be completely riveting. Stiles could do without the starring role though.

The first barista comes back, leading a pinkish-tinged woman with bright pink hair and cat ears headband by the hand.Stiles sneezes as soon as he catches her scent, the same spicy one on the barista, and definitely the same one in his and Derek’s office.

The pink woman has Stiles’ bag clutched tightly in one hand, the other is still being held by the barista.

“She’s sorry about taking your bag,” the barista says. She squeezes her girlfriend’s hand, and wordlessly, she offers Stiles his bag. Stiles grabs it, digging through to see that everything he’d left in there is still in there, including his suit. He strokes it before hugging the bag to his chest.

The pink woman nods at him. “Soft,” she says, voice low, sweet.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the barista says. “It’s just, she’s a pixie, y’know? She has compulsions.”

“Soft,” the woman says again.

“Yes,” Derek agrees. “It is soft. But it’s his.” He draws his eyebrows down, but it’s not his mad face. Stiles has become quite the expert on Derek’s faces after a year as office mates.

He knows they’re friends now because Derek doesn’t make his I-hate-you-and-want-to-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teethface anymore, but he hadn’t known Derek thought they were dating. They haven’t gone on any dates. It’s an oversight Stiles will have to correct, and soon.Unless, a stray thought mocks, Derek only said that to get the bag back quicker. Stiles’ stomach drops. They’re still friends, so whatever direction Derek decides to go in after today, Stiles will respect his choice, even if it doesn’t include him.

“Soft,” the pixie repeats, making a gimme motion with her free hand.

“I’m so sorry,” the barista says again. “I used to have a coat like that, but it got lost.”

Derek’s brow furrows. “Where did it ‘get lost’?” he asks. Stiles leans closer. Derek has his I’m-going-to-solve-this-even-if-it-means-an-international-incident face on. Stiles has seen that face exactly once: when he ousted a hunter cell that was operating near their firm. Derek’s mother, high level ambassador in the supernatural-human merges, had come down swiftly and kept other hunter groups from retaliating. Stiles surreptitiously slides out his phone and picks out Laura’s number. He doesn’t dial quite yet though.

Derek’s faces, while always a clear sign of what Derek is going to do, are not always indicative of the trouble they may or may not cause. Mostly, it depends on the other parties’ reaction to 200 pounds of pissed off werewolf suddenly appearing in their faces.

The barista makes a face. “My ex-boyfriend stole it one night. And I couldn’t exactly tell the cops what it was, so he’s still got it. I’m unharmed for the most part. Sometimes,though, I can feel him stroking it.”

“That’s good that he hasn’t hurt you through it,” Stiles says. He hasn’t really gotten into dating specifically because of the horror stories from his mom and dad. From the look on Derek’s face, this ex-boyfriend is going to be dead when they meet him.

“What’s his name? Where does he live?”

Derek is speaking lowly, but even the pixie draws back, a look of fear on her face.

Stiles pats at Derek’s arm. “The full moon was just yesterday,” he explains. “He’s really good with control, but it might still be affecting him.” He shows the barista his phone. “This is his sister. His whole family will help you get your coat back.”

She covers her mouth, tears already running down her face. The pixie turns to her and starts swiping at them, making little distressed noises.

“No, no. they’re happy tears. They’re going to help us get my soft back.”

“Soft?” The pixie gives both Stiles and Derek a long, assessing look before nodding fiercely. “Friends.”

They get more information from the barista before she checks her watch, flinches, and says, “I have to get back to work. Thank you for doing this. Bye.”

Stiles checks his own watch. They’ve used up all their lunch break and if they don’t leave right now, they’ll be late for the other half of their meeting.

Derek seems to realize it too, because he deflates a little. “I’ll call my mom. She and my uncle can go get her suit back.”

“Coat,” Stiles corrects. “I call mine a suit. She calls hers a coat.”

Derek smiles then. “Remind me that I have to tell you something when all this is over.”

“What?”

Before Stiles can attempt to get it out of him now, Derek starts running, and Stiles has to run to keep up with him. As much as Stiles knows Derek, Derek knows Stiles too. It’s frustrating sometimes, like now, when they’re running half a block back to their firm.

When they get back to the conference room, their boss, looking a little less visible with some of his makeup worn off, ushers them into the room. Derek fakes needing the restroom, promises to be back in two minutes, and runs off. Stiles sits down and pretends to pay attention.

Derek comes back in the promised two minutes, sits next to Stiles, and together they just listen as the finer details of the merge are finalized and suddenly, they’ve doubled in size.

Derek and Laura both get a call as soon as the workday ends, and before Stiles can ask what’s up or what Derek needs to tell him, they’re both shifted and gone.

Stiles sighs. There’s always tomorrow.

He changes into his suit, glad to have it back, and swims home.

~ * ~

Tuesday dawns bright and early without sun and with a dripping wet werewolf sitting on the end of Stiles’ bed.

Stiles screams and throws the first thing he can grab—his alarm clock—at the werewolf, and Derek tumbles to the floor with a muted oof.

Stiles flicks on the light and points at Derek. “Explain,” he says. “Why did you try to give me a heart attack in the middle of the night?”

Derek rolls his shoulders in a self-conscious shrug. “’snot the middle of the night,” he mutters, pettily.

Stiles points at his clock. “Well, I wouldn’t know. I had to use my timepiece as an improvised weapon.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to—” Derek spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. Stiles can’t read it. He’d gotten so good at reading Derek’s facial expressions and tones but he forgot to learn his body language as well.Mostly because Derek doesn’t use body language. He sits still and doesn’t give clues. Stiles takes a metaphoric step back, studies Derek for a long, solemn moment, and then offers his hand to pull him up on the bed.

“Why are you wet?” he asks, more gently.

Derek rolls his shoulders again, like he’s trying to work out a kink, but it’s probably embarrassment that’s pinching his nerves.

“I wanted to update you on the pixie and the selkie,” he says, eyes fixed on his lap. “I only know you smell like the river a lot, so I followed it up.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he ducks his head down more. “I fell in,” he says miserably.

Stiles can’t help the laugh that comes out of him. He slaps his hand over his mouth, but the damage is done. Derek shakes his head once, and moves to get up. Stiles grabs his wrist.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you—well maybe a little. I mean, you’re a werewolf and you fell in the river?”

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Derek says.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Derek says, and then mumbles the next part too low for even Stiles’ selkie ears to hear.

“What was that?”

Derek repeats himself louder and faster. It’s still just a jumbled mess of syllables that mean nothing to Stiles.

“Couldn’t catch that, dear, repeat again please. And enunciate.”

Derek lifts his head, determination burning in his eyes. “I said,” he speaks slowly, more, Stiles gets the feeling, to get the words out, than through annoyance at having to repeat himself for a third time, “that I fell in because I caught your scent and got distracted.”

Stiles doesn’t know how to respond to that, because, aside from the pretend-to-be-boyfriends to get Stiles’ suit back, Derek has expressed zero interest in Stiles like that. So why would he fall in the river after catching Stiles’ scent?

Stiles decides it’s too early and goes with a less confusing topic of conversation. “You said you wanted to update me on the pixie and the barista?”

Derek nods, grabbing the offered opportunity gratefully. “My mom and uncle found the ex-boyfriend easily. And because werewolves, they were able to locate and secure the coat quickly. Turns out he’s just a regular human obsessed with selkie lore and just wanted to have control over her.”

“Is he in jail?”

Derek shakes his head. “How can we arrest him? Humans aren’t exactly aware of the supernatural yet. My mom is going to keep an eye on him, and my uncle promised to put the fear of Peter into him.”

“‘The fear of Peter’?”Stiles raises an eyebrow. “That’s awfully cocky of your uncle Peter.” He gets a quirked smile in response. Stiles has met Peter once, and that was enough for Stiles to realize that Peter, if he didn’t like you, could make your life miserable.

Thankfully, Peter seemed to like Stiles, and he hasn’t been subjected to more of his particular brand of Peter-ness.

“Anyway,” Derek continues, “I wanted to tell you that Ari got her coat back, and Livie is sorry for taking yours.”

“I get it. She probably thought it was Ari’s.”

“Yeah, and one more thing: I think I love you.”

Stiles blinks at the confession. Blood rushes in his ears and it’s a little difficult to breathe.

“What?” he manages to whisper.

Derek makes eye contact with the wall past Stiles’ head. Choked, he says, “I think I’m in love with you. It’s why my full moons have been getting worse. My anchor is shifting. It’s you.”

“What?” Stiles repeats. Derek’s head drops, his shoulders droop. Confused, Stiles just stares at him.

“My anchor isn’t what it was before. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. It’s too much. I’m sorry.”

He stands up almost too fast for Stiles to grab him again. “No!”

Derek looks at where Stiles is gripping his wrist. “No?” he asks, and it sounds so, so hopeful.

“No,” Stiles says, settling back, tugging Derek gently until he’s back on the bed. “Don’t go. Tell me more about your anchor. Tell me more about you. ‘Cause, Derek, you’re not the only one who thinks they’re in love.”

Derek’s eyes go to Stiles’ chest—his heartbeat. “I love you,” Stiles says, and the skip in his heartbeat isn’t from a lie. It’s because he’s realizing the truth. He may have been able to reason with himself at the coffee shop yesterday, and even explain away all the little anomalies of being attracted to his officemate as being friends, but he knows with certainty, he wants to be actual boyfriends with Derek.

He wants Derek here, in his space, wants to help him get his wolf back in control during the full moons, wants to get him bagels every morning, wants, wants, wants, so steady, it’s like his heartbeat.

And when Derek leans in, asks, “May I?” so gently and carefully before kissing Stiles’ like he’s the most precious thing in the world, Stiles knows, Derek wants too.

Warmth surges in his veins and he deepens the kiss, holding it like a breath, kissing like their lives depend on it, and trying to climb into the space in Derek’s heart that is already calling his name.

~ End ~

#theydraggedmein #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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byorder-fanfic · 5 years ago

Text

A Good Woman

Summary: The man Lizzie loves is put in the hospital by the two other men she thought she loved. So, she does what any woman in her situation would do- she points a gun to their heads.

Word count: 2327

Warnings: Hospital, descriptions of injury and pain, mentions of sex work and sexual abuse, swearing.

Author’s Note: Hi, this is a part two to A Good Man. It’s an AU in which the vendetta doesn’t happen because Lizzie Stark is a badass, and it’s inspired by that scene in S5 when she tells Aberama, Johnny and Tommy to “get out of her house”. Hope you enjoy it xx

Angel was screaming. Lizzie had never heard him in so much pain before, his anguished moans echoing in every corridor of the hospital. Or was it just her mind replaying the sounds that had greeted her as she raced through the nurses and doctors, just trying to find him. She didn't think it could be true- John was a good man, wasn't he? He wouldn't have done this to her. But the bandages wrapped around Angel's face proved otherwise. She leaned her head against the wall, trying to focus on the tapping of shoes on shiny floors, trying to think of anything but the screaming. Lizzie had seen him in pain before; she had taken a bullet from his shoulder after a nasty shoot out. Even then, he was grinning through his winces, trying to flirt with her as she poured spirits on his wound. It made her smile for a second. Then she thought of his face, now forever scarred. That was, if he survived. Lizzie felt tears sting her eyes, and for once in her life, she let herself cry. That was exactly why she isolated herself to this corridor, moving away from his room just so Audrey and Vincente wouldn't see her fall apart. They didn't need her pain. But Lizzie did. She needed to feel the tears stream down her face, needed to feel her throat get dry as she gasped for air. She needed to feel this, just to remind herself how much she loves him. Loves. Not loved. Not yet. Suddenly feeling grumpy at herself, Lizzie brought up her sleeve to wipe away the tears. She would be strong for Angel: she would hold onto his mother and pray with his father, she would give them tears when they cried and whisper hope into their ears. Hope was easy for her, she thought, with a lifetime of hopelessness.

When she came back, Audrey reached up to hold her tight. She was much smaller than Lizzie, her tears warm against her neck as pulled apart with a smile. Angel had stopped screaming.

"He will live," Audrey stated, before more tears fell down her cheek. Lizzie didn't let herself smile just yet, looking up to the white haired man for confirmation. Vincente nodded, and Lizzie grinned and beamed and smiled so much, it felt sore on her face. Thank you, God, she thought, thank you Jeremiah, too. She knew the preacher would've prayed for him, just as he knew she couldn't as long as he screamed like that.

"Have you seen him?" Lizzie's eyes darted to the hospital door, now shut. "Is he awake?"

"Yes, we've spoken," Vincente spoke for his wife, bringing her into his arms as she kept on crying with joy. "He said he'd like to speak to you, too."

"If that's alright," She hesitated, thinking of what he would say. What she could say.

"Of course it is, Lizzie," Vincente smiled kindly.

When Lizzie walked in, she knew exactly what to expect. White walls, white sheets, white bandages on his face. Yet she still couldn't stop the sudden thrill of happiness that warmed up inside her when she saw him. Angel was smiling, despite the morphine drip connected to his arm (or maybe that was the reason why), eyes lighting up as he saw the tall silhouette he knew all too well enter the room.

"You're here," he grunted out, trying to shift himself to sit up.

Seeing his struggle, Lizzie strode in, resting a hand on his chest as she gently put him down, as she perched on the edge of his bed, careful to check for any wires she might be constricting. Her hand immediately found his, still the same unscarred hand she would hold onto under the table at his restaurant. It was weird at first, since he wasn't wearing the rings she'd grown accustomed to digging into her bony fingers. But it was still him. She reached her other hand up, running her fingers through his matted hair. It was wild and dark with sweat instead of gel keeping it tidy. She tried not to brush against the bandages- a difficult task. They covered most areas of his face like an incomplete patchwork of his likeness, some flecks of blood staining the gauze.

"I'm sorry." The guilt she'd been hoarding since his restaurant burnt down all came pouring out, her voice tearing as she carried on. "If you'd never met me, if I never worked for those Shelby fuckers, then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. It's all...it's all my fault, Angel, I'm so sorry."

"Lizzie, love," Angel smiled as if it amused him, squeezing her pale hand tighter. "This isn't your fault. You're allowed to be with whoever you so choose." A shuffling behind his bandages told her he was giving her that cocky eyebrow lift that drove her insane. "And you choose me. Those Shelby fuckers can deal with that."

"They will," she practically growled it out. "I will make sure they pay for this."

"I know," he nodded gently. "You're a remarkable woman, Lizzie Stark, and you make sure to give them Hell for me, okay?"

"Okay."

Angel pulled her down to his bed so she was lying next to him, her head resting on the shoulder of his hospital gown and her legs falling off of the bed.

"You look worn out, love," he whispered.

"Aw thanks," she joked.

"Sorry, you look beautiful as always," he corrected himself with a little kiss to the top of her head. "Have you been eating and sleeping alright?"

She thought back to all the days and nights Angel had been in the hospital, all the days and nights she had stayed here too. The hospital staff had tried to kick her out since it's "family only", but Audrey Changretta had insisted Lizzie was family, and, well, no one argues with her.

"I've been staying in hospital with your parents," she told him. "So, not really. We've all just been worried."

"Well, as soon as I get out of here, I'll make us a big meal," he promised, hand tight around her waist.

"You still want me?" She said it quietly, not quite believing it.

"I'm the one whose hideously scarred, Liz." Even though she couldn't see, she knew he was grinning. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You're not hideous," she lifted herself up, staring into his eyes, twinkling under the bandages. "You could never be hideous."

They fell back into comfortable silence as Lizzie laid uncomfortably in the bed, but she didn't care. At least he was here, his chest expanding with each breath that Lizzie anxiously listened to, heart still beating.

"Y'know," she gave a sly smile. "When you get back, I could cook dinner for you."

And Angel laughed, a loud guffaw that made him grunt a little in pain, as he brought Lizzie closer to his chest.

"Mi amore, I will do anything for you," he declared. "Except for eating your burnt toast."

Lizzie didn't stay at the hospital the next day. With a clap on the back from Vincente, another tight hug from Audrey, and a kiss good luck from Angel, she was marching down Small Heath, a blaze in her eyes that forced everyone to step out of her way. A woman on a mission, with only one target in mind. The betting shop was surrounded by smoking Blinders, each of them giving a blank stare as they watched her storm into Number 6, Watery Lane. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she charged on through, walking past the Shelby family at the table before reaching her desk. She didn't answer their questions, posed loud and rudely, as she opened up her bottom drawer. She didn't respond when she brought out her revolver. She didn't feel sorry when they screamed at her as she cocked it with a click. She just rose up, graceful as a dancer, and marched back to them, gun pointed at John's head.

"Now, then, Liz," Tommy held hid hands up, trying to get her to surrender. Everyone was on their guard, tense and wide-eyed as they watched her hold the gun, unshaking and unrelenting. She wouldn't let him take the gun from her again. "I know you're upse-"

"Shut up, Tom," she growled, pointing the gun back to him. "For once in your fuckin' life, will you just shut up and sit down?"

"Okay," John spoke, calmly, as he nodded for everyone to sit back down. She tried not to look at the betrayal in his eyes, knowing he didn't like the familiar look in hers.

"What d'ya have to say, Lizzie?" Arthur asked, gruffly.

"You fuckers are lucky," she began. "If Angel died, it wouldn't be me showing up here to point a gun at you. Killing a Changretta would start a vendetta, and you would just keep on killing each other till there was no one left." She looked down a moment. "Cept me, of course. Need someone to put a flower on your grave, right?"

"We weren't trying to hurt you," Tommy said it coldly.

"No, course you weren't," she laughed at the thought. "Cause you never think of me, none of you do. You didn't want me, Tom, and neither did you, John." She glared at them both. "So why the fuck are you getting territorial now? Why do you have to hurt the one good man who loves me?"

"Loves you, huh?" Arthur scoffed a little.

"Yeah, he does, and I love him," she said it just as coldly as Tommy would've, making sure they could all see her teeth as she snarled at them.

"You've said that before," John said, cruelly.

"I think I did love you, John," she looked at him. "And I didn't see anyone the first week after you proposed." Esme was watching on awkwardly. "But then the money I saved up ran out, and it was either keep my promise to you and starve or lose some dignity and keep a roof over my head."

"We've all been through hard times, Lizzie." Polly looked just like Tommy as she said that, eyes blazing.

"Well I never had a family like you to take care of me," she said, shrugging slightly. The gun was getting heavy in her hands. "All I had was a dad who abandoned me and a mum that drunk herself into an early grave." Everyone flinched- she'd never told anyone but Angel and Jeremiah about her past. "And I was chucked out into the streets with only the clothes on my back. No one would hire me cause I always had mud on my clothes and I bathed in the Cut." She shuddered as she remembered those times, so long ago. "So I became a whore, and I got food in my stomach and I saved up to get myself that dingy little flat, and I was miserable." She shook her head. "And I thought the only way out was with a ring on my finger, so I said yes to John. And then I said yes to Tommy, cause I will not ever go back onto the streets." She put her gun down at last, feeling it swing by her hip. "But I'm not a whore anymore. I'm happy now, with a proper job that I'm proud of and a good man at my side. You will not ruin that for me." She glowered at the three Shelby brothers. "Tommy, John, Arthur, you will go to the liquor shop round the corner and buy a bottle of wine, red, and go to the hospital, and apologise to Angel."

They all started to protest but Lizzie raised the gun again.

"I said shut it," she said firmly. "You will swallow that fuckin' pride of yours and apologise to him, and you will finish this stupid war."

"Or else?" Tommy didn't take her seriously, looking more amused than concerned.

"Or else I'll do what I should've done at the Darby," she pointed her gun to him again, seeing the flicker of recognition in his eyes at the sight.

"What happened at the Darby?" John also remembered seeing her, battered in her pretty dress. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"You really think I'd've whored myself out if I didn't have to?" She spat out the words, and Tommy had the decency to look ashamed as Arthur and John turned to him with confused looks.

"Tom, you didn't get Liz hurt, didya?" Arthur asked, not believing the word of a whore over his brother. Even though she's not a whore now.

"She wasn't supposed to-"

"Tommy here was too busy chatting up the Irish spy and Lady Carleton to save me in time," Lizzie said. "Because you boys can fuck who you like without us women getting possessive."

She didn't need the comparison to the bandages on Angel's face to the ring on Grace's finger, to the wedding that got his restaurant burnt to a char.

"The Changretta war is over," Polly said sternly, looking over to her nephews. "They will apologise and Lizzie can be free to fuck who she likes."

They all gritted their teeth, but they knew better to fight their aunt and a woman with a gun to their heads.

"Good, and I quit," she said, putting the gun to her side. "I expect a really good letter of recommendation, by the way."

"It'll be done," Polly said. Things were much better when Polly was in charge, like in the war.

"What'll you do?" Despite their complicated relationship, Lizzie was still friends with Esme. She grinned at her friend for a second.

"I'm gonna work as Chief Secretary for a foundation for Women and Girls in need," she said proudly, thinking of how she could help women like her, recover like her. "Oh, and I'm getting married."

They hadn't seen the shining diamond on Lizzie's trigger finger.

89 notes · View notes