#and the Must Be Canon Or Else crowd went with it to hell and back

[first-only]

Can I say something that might possibly be a 'hot take'?

I really don't like the rise of the whole 'He would not fucking say that' meme (and a lot of its variations). I know it's probably a joke (I'm too autistic to tell how serious people are with it lol.), and I can understand being annoyed when someone writes a character OOC, but OOC-ness is not really that big of a deal. Don't like, don't read, you know

I feel like it's also going to cause a lot of paranoia in fanwork creators, and I don't like that. And I should know, it's caused some paranoia in me (even though I've always been of the opinion that OOC-ness doesn't matter, in fact I celebrate it, just let people have fun. Despite all this, the meme still affects me and makes me worry)

I feel like the only time that OOC-ness can be a problem is when an indivisual/a fandom has a fanon that they like and they don't let anyone disagree with or write differently then that fanon. But I feel like that's not even an issue with OOC-ness, it's an issue with people (usually BNFs) being jerks and trying to get other people to conform to what they want

I don't know, maybe this whole thing is just a communal joke and I'm worrying over nothing. I'm not trying to ruin anyone's fun, have fun with your memes and all that, I just wanted to vent

(This ask is not directed at you FO, I know you're not the type to care about OOC-ness)

hard agreed actually, it's annoying as fuck

i honestly dont think it's that much of a joke to be honest, what with people making posts being all high par Make A Fucking OC and shit like??? who tf are u to tell me what to do lmao. if i want john winchester in a flower dress imma damn well make it, dont give a single fuck how Not Canon Compliant тм it is

thats the fucking point of fandom ya know? literally who cares. this whole thing reeks of the new-wave "it will never be canon so why ship it". like. its fandom material, none of it will be canon, the point is to have fun.

that and that one gross post "theres too much fluff of X" bitch?? i like fluff about X. you dont get to say what everyone creates, you dont have to like all of it. just pick the stuff you like, it isnt difficult.

AND those posts that keep popping up in "proshipper" spaces that go 'i know it's just fiction but guys. content about X chara being Y is /actually/ really bad;///'... it's like people completely forget their fundamental ideology about fiction when their own specific identity happens to be the thing that's bothering them this time. so is content that makes people uncomfortable 'allowed' or not? make up your mind, no doublebacksies. and who tf are you to not allow it in the first place but i guess there's enough people who for some reason get anxious over randos' opinions on the internet to feel bad about it so...

anyway, yeah. personal tastes do not dictate people's politics. this relates to yet another popular discourse lately:)

[justnatoka]

No disrespect

David x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1k

Warning: mention of canon-typical violence, smoking

Summary: David and you are a power couple. When someone disrespects your man, you show them the consequences.

One night Michael found himself at the boardwalk in the company of David and his gang. The boys were having a good time, messing around, messing with him, smoking and laughing. He still couldn’t quite make sense of some stuff about them, but he was sure of one thing. You were David’s girl. The leader made it clear to him in the beginning that you were off limits, and he never questioned it, being too enamored with Star to even think about trying anything with you anyway. It made sense in his mind why David and you would gravitate towards each other. You were both charismatic, exuding an aura of confidence that he rarely saw in other people. Adding that together, you made an absolutely magnetic couple that drew the eyes of guys and girls alike.  You two however never looked at anyone else. And even though Michael knew his place regarding your relationship, that doesn’t mean others did too.

You were leaning onto David until now, listening to him talking to Dwayne, occasionally taking puffs from his cigarette. He was resting his arm around your waist, his fingers drawing lazy figures on your hip. When you moved to detach yourself from him, he glanced down at you.

“I’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” Pressing a quick kiss on his lips, you turned to the boys. “You guys want anything?” They shook their heads. You sent one last glance to David, then walked off towards a nearby shop, your movements graceful and full of purpose. That was another thing about you that Michael had discovered, you knew exactly what kind of effect you had on the people around you. It wasn’t necessarily the result of your looks, more like the air around you, the way you carried yourself. There was something about it that drew people in. Sure enough, there were heads turning as you passed by. Your lover watched your retreating form with a heated gaze.

Michael turned back to looking at the crowd. He didn’t pay attention to how long you were gone, but the next thing he knows, Marko is hitting his arm to get his attention.

“Hey, Mickey, check it out.” He motioned towards where you left, and as Michael turned his head, he saw you leaning on the counter with a drink in hand and a big guy in front of you. It was clear he was flirting with you. He rested one of his hands on yours, casually leaning against the counter, a big grin on his face. He must have said something funny, because you leaned your head back as you laughed. You weren’t close enough to hear what you were talking about, but they got a full view of what was happening.

Michael looked at David, wondering whether he was going to get involved, but to his surprise, David was cool as ever, seemingly not bothered at all, just watching the scene with interest. The guy leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear, to which you just smiled and shook your head, motioning back towards their group. He looked at them, his face suddenly changing to one of confusion, then barely concealed annoyance.

“Uh-oh, there’s trouble” Paul giggled as he took a drag from his joint, clearly having the time of his life. “Dwayne, bet he’s gonna eat bricks.”

Michael tuned them out, focusing on the two of you. The situation was escalating, the guy glancing their way once again as his irritation grew, and he met David’s eyes for a long moment. David still didn’t move, his gaze intense. They couldn’t see your whole face from where they were sitting, but it was clear as day the guy said something you didn’t like, as your hand that was playing idly with your drink until now went still.  There was a shift in the air. He didn’t seem to notice, but the boys sure as hell did.

“Ooh, he’s done it now” Marko was howling and Paul started cackling, the two of them jostling each other, practically buzzing in anticipation, and even Dwayne joined in.

As you answered him, you moved your body a bit, angling in a way that they could see more of your face. Michael shivered. Your smile was charming, sickeningly sweet, and you gently ran your fingers up the guy’s arm. Your eyes however were cold and calculating, the eyes of a predator about to pounce on its prey. The guy must have felt something too, because his body language became unsure. But your voice was too enticing. Now it was you who leaned closer to him, the movement intimate, seductive even. The next moment you took his hand and started guiding him away from the crowd to one of the darker, more secluded spots, away from the hustling and bustling of the boardwalk.

“Yep, he’s dead meat” Marko concluded and they all went back to what they were doing before as if nothing happened, like this was something they saw regularly. Michael guessed that couldn’t have been far from the truth.

When you returned you no longer had your drink with you. However, there was some blood splattered on your clothes, a few speck still on your face, having washed most of it off your skin. You made your way straight over to David, straddling his lap and smashing your lips to his. He was already anticipating it, his hands naturally moving to your hips, his tongue licking off the remaining blood from the corner of your lips. You combed your fingers through his hair and he leaned his head back a bit as you deepened the kiss. Michael started to feel awkward just staring at you so he looked away, embarrassed at your sudden public display. The boys exchanged amused glances, already used to your affectionate mood after feeding. When you finally detached yourself from each other’s lips, David asked what happened.

“He got disrespectful. I couldn’t let him talk shit about you, so I ripped out his throat.”

You said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing to do. David burst out laughing, the boys joining in. Michael just looked at you in bewilderment, seriously wondering what the hell he got himself into.

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[queen-of-the-avengers]

The Avengers: Part Two

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

MCU Rewrite Masterlist

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

"Sir, please put down the spear!" Fury shouts.

Loki looks at his scepter and suddenly points it at the spot where You, Fury, and Clint are standing. Clint tackles Fury out of the way while you jump to avoid Loki's fired shot. All agents in the room start firing at Loki with their guns whole he counterattacks with his scepter. He takes out the many knives he always has hidden on him and throws them at a few guards to eliminate the number of people shooting at him. Clint grabs his gun and points it at Loki, but the God grabs his hand to prevent him from shooting. There is something in Clint's eyes that Loki likes which is why he doesn't kill him.

"You have heart."

Loki points the head of his spear at Barton's chest, and his eyes suddenly glow black. Loki must have the power to control people's minds with the staff because Clint puts his gun away since his boss is now Loki. He's going to need more agents on his side if he plans to get out of here alive, so while he is controlling the minds of a few more people, Fury grabs the Tesseract and places it back into its case. You lock eyes with Fury and he motions for you to follow him the hell out of there.

"Please don't. I still need that," Loki comments when he sees you two trying to get away.

"This doesn't have to get any messier," Fury says.

"Of course, it does. I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose," he grins evilly.

"We have no quarrel with your people."

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot."

"You planning to step on us?"

"I come with glad tidings, of a world made free."

"Free from what?" you ask.

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart," Loki swiftly turns to Erik and places the sharp end of the spear to his chest to control his mind, much like what he did with Clint, "you will know peace."

"Yeah, you say peace but I kind of think you mean the other thing," Fury glares.

From the vacuum chamber ceiling, the Tesseract's energy cloud rapidly builds into what may be an implosion. A bunch of space energy is crowding above the portal in which Loki came through. If you don't get out of here now, the entire building is going to come crashing down.

"Sir, Director Fury is stalling," Clint informs Loki. "This place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us."

"Like The Pharaohs of Odin," Fury nods.

"He's right," Erik adds. "The portal is collapsing in on itself. You have maybe two minutes before this goes critical."

"In that case..."

Loki looks at Clint who raises his gun at Fury. He's the one holding the case, after all. You jump in front of Fury just as Clint shoots at him. The bullet goes right through your arm and into Fury's shoulder. Both of you go crumbling to the ground, and the case containing the Tesseract slides several feet away from you. Clint walks over to it and picks it up before handing it to the doctor, and Team Loki leaves the room.

"Are you okay?" you gasp in pain from your wound.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Stop them!"

"Right."

You push yourself to your feet and run in the direction Loki went. Maria is in the parking garage loading some of the cars when Clint, Erik, and Loki arrive. She is suspicious about this whole ordeal but doesn't say anything because maybe it's normal for them to be leaving. She is about to let it go when Fury's voice comes over her radio.

"Barton's turned! He's got the Tesseract!"

Maris jumps behind a pillar just as the shooting starts, but it doesn't last long because Clint is already driving out of the parking garage with Loki sitting in the bed of the truck. You run into the room and see her hiding with her gun out.

"Get in the car! Follow me!"

You take off using your air powers just as Maria gets into a car to follow behind you. You catch up with Loki easily, and your heart breaks at how broken he looks. He looks worse than he did when you last saw him. Where the hell has he been and who has he been with? He looks like he was emotionally and mentally tortured for years before finally breaking free. 

That kind of broken can't be hidden, you'd know.

Two more SHIELD agents race to catch up to you and Maria to help with the fight. Loki stands up and shoots one of the cars with his scepter, causing the truck to flip over onto the roof. The second car swerves to avoid it but ends up crashing into the side of the underground tunnel. Loki turns his scepter to you and fires, hitting you square in the chest. You go flying into Maria's windshield that cracks under your weight.

"Whoa!" she gasps and swerves a bit.

"I'm okay!"

You use your air powers on Loki's scepter which makes it fly out of his hands. You shoot out toward the truck and land on the bed of the truck so that you're face-to-face with Loki. You kick him on his knees but he doesn't go down as easily as you thought. He sends a blow to your jaw and grabs your throat tightly. He pulls you close so you can see his pain up close. This isn't the man you know.

"Loki, please remember us," you choke out.

As if you're a ragdoll, he tosses you to the side and into the dirt wall of the tunnel. You gain control of yourself before you can hit it and go flying after him again. Instead of shooting at you or Maria, Loki uses his scepter to destroy the tunnel walls. Clint drives faster to avoid being shut in but Maria isn't as lucky. Like an ocean wave, blinding crumbles of rock fall onto Maria's car that doesn't injure her.

"Maria! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

You help her out of the Jeep as she grabs the radio to communicate with the rest of the facility.

"Director? Director Fury, do you copy?" Phil's voice comes over the radio.

"The Tesseract is with the hostile force. I have men down. Hill?"

"A lot of men still under. I don't know how many survivors."

"Sound the general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase."

"Roger that."

"Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war."

"What do we do?" Phil asks.

"The only thing we can do. Hill, is Y/N with you?"

"Right here, Nick," you say when you take the radio from her.

"Can you get outside?"

"Yeah. I'll find you." You hand the radio back to her and back her away from the wreckage. "Get ready to see something cool."

You place your hands out in front of you and let your eyes glow forest green. The rocks begin to move on your command to clear a path so that you and Maria can get out. Thankfully, her truck still runs even though the hood is damaged, so you two take that and leave the tunnel. Nick is by the wreckage of the helicopter he used to escape but he is unharmed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"So far. Remember how I told you I was working on recruiting someone else, and you were on a need-to-know for it?"

"Yeah. You want to tell me who it is?"

"Do you remember a man named Steve Rogers?"

Memories of you and Steve immediately come forth. Memories you tried so hard to push down to avoid facing it. Your past is very haunting and painful, so it's best if you pretend to forget it.

"What the hell are you?"

"I'm really sorry you had to find out this way. I never meant to keep it from you for this long. I didn't know how to tell you, and Bucky told me it's best if you didn't know."

"Bucky knew about all this?"

This is where you come clean and tell Steve everything there is to know about you. He's having a much harder time believing it than Bucky did, but you know he'll come around.

"Steve, I never meant to hurt you. I promise I always had your best interest at heart. I'm still your best friend. I'm still Bucky's girlfriend. This doesn't change because you found out what I am."

There is something bigger at stake here, and if he's going to win this war, he's going to need allies. The past eight years you've known him have been some of the best, and knowing what you are doesn't change those memories. He trusts you, and if you say you're no threat, then he believes you.

"I just wish you would have told me sooner."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not," he chuckles.

The plane crashes into the ice below, cutting off all contact between you two and Peggy. The plane was too fast to hit the water so it hit the ice instead. Both you and Steve are thrown from your places at the front to somewhere else. The back of the plane is ripped off on impact, and you're ejected from the wreckage.

You hit the icy cold waters with a gasp while Steve sinks into the ice below. Everything is so peaceful below the surface of the water. You could be here forever just to escape your life. No one would ever know where you are.

No, you can't do that to Steve.

You gasp awake and allow your air powers to create a pocket around your head so you can breathe underwater. You breach the surface in the middle of the wreckage with no sign of Steve anywhere.

"Steve!" you yell and haul yourself out of the water.

Your pyrokinesis allows you to stay warm so you don't get hypothermia--not that you could if you tried.

"Steve!" you yell again.

Steve is either in pieces, dead, or just missing. He could have sunk deep into the water which would take weeks or months to try and find him. He could have gotten stuck in the ice, but if you were to melt all the ice, then you'd create tsunamis across the world from the rising sea levels.

First Bucky and now Steve. When is this heartbreak going to end? No one is around to hear you scream, but you let out the most heartbreaking wail for your best friend and the love of your life. Earth was supposed to be a new start for you, and for the first nine hundred years, it was.

Now, it's a painful reminder of what you've lost.

When you come back to the present, you have tears streaming down your face. Thinking of Steve brings memories of Bucky back in your head. Memories of him make you think of Loki. You were and are in love with both men as deeply as you can. If both of them were in front of you now, you don't think you could ever choose between them. They're both so different but it's like you need both of them to survive.

"Did you find him?" you whisper emotionally.

"Come with me."

There are more helicopters available that haven't been damaged by the Tesseract. Maria stays behind to help with the evacuation and assess the damage with Phil while you and Nick take a trip back into the city where you departed from. There is a room in the back of his office that you've never paid attention to, and he's leading you right to it. He stops outside of it and motions for you to open the door.

You do and you see someone with their back turned to you packing something in a bag. He doesn't have to turn around for you to know who it is. You'd recognize him in a crowd of people.

"Steve?" you ask.

Your best friend turns and his eyes widen from seeing you after so long.

"Y/N?"

You can't contain yourself and run at him, flinging yourself in his arms. He catches you easily as you wrap yourself around his body. After so long of roaming Earth and trying to find your place in it, you finally find something familiar and comforting. You kiss his cheek, drop to your feet, and stare up at Steve with tears in your eyes.

"I can't believe you're here right now. I can't believe you're alive. I searched for you but could never find you."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around it as well. Fury explained it to me but it still doesn't seem real."

"I'll let you two catch up. Don't leave New York. I'll be in touch," Fury says from the door.

"Do you have a place? I can get something for us if it's easier."

"Fury got me a place to stay. I don't like to stay in it. It's too quiet. I've been staying here as much as I can."

"Now your place won't be so lonely. Can I stay with you? We can be roommates."

"Yeah, that sounds amazing, actually."

"Great! We have a lot of catching up to do. Where do I even start?" you chuckle.

x

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[powerpayback]

local ace looks for personal space, does not succeed

a/n: i wanted to write a lil smth for pride month and while this is technically non-canon... enjoy

For the years Magni and Sprout had been living in Bright City, they had settled on an arrangement. Magni, notorious hater of events with loud crowds and an abundant of technochatter, would go to Bright City Pride in October if he got to drag Sprout along to milder Pride events in June. Sprout, notorious extrovert, agreed. 

Bright City didn’t really do mild, but Magni kept his finger on the pulse. So when a bookstore not too far from them announced a queer book club night, he made Sprout go with him. 

The adorably named Night Light Books wasn’t quite bustling, but enough people filled the coffee shop that led towards the store. The buzz of people and technochatter seemed louder in the small space. 

“You want something to drink?” Sprout asked, glancing up at the menu. 

“Yeah, I’ll get a coffee or something,” Magni told her.

She turned to him, arms crossed. “It’s nearly seven.”

“And? Better than Red Bull.”

Sprout tilted her chin up. “I don’t drink it four hours before I go to bed.”

“Well, then don’t order Red Bull.” He looked past the people, deeper into the store. “I’m gonna go look around.”

She gave him a gloved thumbs up before he slipped away. The shelves were not as crowded. The wide aisle that separated the store was lined with street lamps that lit the large store. Between them, tables with displays of queer books were set up, where most customers had flocked to.

He was looking for a new queer romance to add to his shelves, but he saw something else. At first, he didn’t recognize Haley outside the bright yellow shirt of her Sunny’s uniform, dark blonde curls obscuring her freckled face. 

“Are you sure it’s not in the sci-fi section?” he heard her ask. 

It wasn’t an easy feat, with her staying quiet and his earplugs in as usual. But as she bickered with the man beside her, Magni recognized her voice. 

He wasn’t quite as nosy as Sprout was, but he still made his way over to the table. His best friend’s massive crush on Haley was hard to ignore and if she was on a date with this dude, he wanted to find out first. He went over to the other side and attempted to be conspicuous. 

Haley’s friend was a Black guy who only had a few inches on her short stature, hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. A black cloth mask covered most of his face, but Magni saw a glint of metal poking out on his cheek. Maybe a Talent, he figured, but that didn’t tell him much. With the mask pulled over his face, he couldn’t make out his reply, even quieter with the cloth concealing his mouth.

He must not have been as conspicuous as he thought, because Haley turned his way. “Oh, Magni! Hey.”

“Hi,” he said, fingers brushing against one of the books. “Small world, huh.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. One of the nearby streetlights that adorned the store glowed more in her presence. “We were just looking around. You know, always great to support queer authors.”

“Totally,” Magni said with a nod. “I usually prefer romance, but this-” He squinted to make out the title in front of him- “uh, history of Bright City’s gay scene and Talents seems pretty interesting.” It actually did, so it technically wasn’t a lie. Even if it was just a bit of a bluff. He picked it up. Hell, maybe it could be a bedtime read. “You looking for anything in particular?”

“Mm, kinda,” Haley said. “We were-” She turned to look at her friend, but he’d made a swift escape before he even learned his name. “Well, he must be looking for it. Just some author we know.” 

Magni glanced off into the distance. “Damn. Talk about a vanishing act.”

She shrugged, before looking back at him. “Nice shirt, by the way.” 

He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. It read, This Ace Needs Their Space. “Thanks. I thought it was fitting.”

“So, you’re looking for romance?” Haley asked. “I thought you read broody murder mysteries or serial killer biographies.” 

“My whole life is mystery, so reading about murder gets depressing,” Magni said. He decided not to mention that they didn’t really get murder cases anyways. 

“Okay, I’d also choose not to read about murder that much if that was my whole life,” she muttered. 

“Sometimes, a guy just has to curl up with a romance and get lost in Regency-era yearning.” He clutched the history book to his chest. “What’s your poison of choice?” 

Before Haley could reply, Sprout strode up to him, oblivious to her presence as she handed him a coffee. “Don’t bitch at me, but this is decaf.”

Magni scrunched his nose, but he took it. Coffee was coffee. “Fine.”

“Sprout. Hey. I didn’t know you were here,” Haley said. 

Sprout clasped her cup with both hands, clearly trying not to spill all over an entire book display as she turned to face her. “Oh, angel! I didn’t recognize you without the- neon yellow.”

The light hummed brighter than before behind Haley. “Yeah, well, I gotta have a life outside waiting tables,” she joked. 

Magni decided to take a cue from Haley’s friend and patted Sprout’s shoulder with the book he’d grabbed before he wandered deeper into the store. He’d been to Night Light Books enough to know that the back section of the books could be a weaving maze. Most of the action was near the front, but here, he could get a little peace and quiet. 

Bookstores weren’t really a safe haven free from technochatter. Wherever there were people, the noise from their phone followed. With one or two people, it was barely noticeable. But the more people there were, the more overwhelming it could get. He called it technochatter because that’s all it sounded like sometimes - constant chatter. Back here, the chatter was a safe distance away. 

There were no displays back in the tighter space. He’d missed the queer romance table, but frankly, he’d leave that to Sprout for the night. Besides, as he headed towards their regular romance section, they didn’t exactly slack off for the other eleven months of the year. 

Tucking the book in his hand under his arm, he scanned the titles they did have. He didn’t keep up with what books were popular, mostly because he was a ghost on everything but Facebook to keep up with his aunts. However, he spotted a book he’d heard good things about, something about widowed countesses and astronomers. 

He eased it out and wished he had somewhere to put his coffee down, turning it over to read the back. It would have been more successful if he’d put his reading glasses on first. Magni tried to add to his other book under his arm to pluck them out from his jacket, but that one clattered to the ground instead. 

“Motherfucker,” he muttered. He bent down to pick it up. 

As he did though, someone else pulled the book out of his reach. “You dropped this,” a man’s voice said.  

He stood up, ready to make a smart remark, but the guy in front of him was… well, he was hot. His baby blue button-down strained around his muscles, blonde hair swept out of his face. He held the book out to him. 

“Thanks,” Magni said, taking it back. 

“You know the action’s over there, right?” he asked, pointing a thumb towards the rest of the store. 

“Yeah. I don’t like action,” he said. He balanced his books on the edge of the shelf to take out his glasses.

“I can see the appeal of peace and quiet.” The blond held out a hand. “I’m Lloyd.”

“Magni.” He set his glasses down to give his hand a firm shake. One of the weirder skills he’d picked up as a detective was reading people through a handshake. His hand was soft, but his grip was strong. 

"Oh, Magni. Very... Scandinavian." He wasn't quite sure to take it as a compliment or not. Before he could decide on how to take it, Lloyd asked, “So, you like local history?” 

“It sounded interesting,” Magni told him. He slipped his glasses on, making sure none of his thin dreads slipped underneath the frame. “Talent history is so rich, but if you don’t have a parent who’s actually a Talent, you can underestimate its importance. Especially when it comes to the queer community, it can be even harder to learn about our past.”

Lloyd nodded. “I mean, I’m not a Talent. I wouldn’t really know. Seeing how those two intersect, though, that’s interesting.”

Magni turned to pick up the book he’d been looking at to actually be able to read the summary, but he heard Lloyd chuckle. “What?”

“Don’t tell me you actually read that stuff.” 

“I just love a happy ending. Sue me.”  

“They’re not real literature, you know,” Lloyd said. 

Magni often wished for a Talent other than technopathy. Right now, he wished that he had something useful, like enchantment, to get this guy to shut up. 

But he continued to prattle on. “It just lacks depth. I mean, I think you of all people would know that.”

“What does that mean?”

Lloyd gestured to Magni’s shirt. “Romance is just softcore erotica for bored housewives. And I thought you’d be bored by that.”

He did often skip the sex scenes, but he still took offense to that. Before he could reply, he felt someone lay a hand on his shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

It wasn’t Sprout’s voice, so he glanced back looking confused. It was Haley’s friend, a couple books in hand. However, Magni knew an out when he saw one, and took his books. “Great conversation, Lloyd.” 

The masked man guided deeper into the store and out of sight. “Sorry, he just sounded like a dick.” 

Magni chuckled. “Yeah. A little.”

He glanced past him, probably trying to gauge if Lloyd was gone. “I know about dealing with dicks.” He turned back, dark brown eyes wide. “That sounded bad. Dealing with shitty people.”

“He thought he read my shirt, but clearly he missed the needs their space part,” he joked. 

“Seriously.” Though Magni couldn’t see his smile, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I should probably go find Haley.”

“Yeah, she was flirting with my friend, so you can hide out a little more.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Alright. Good for her.”

Magni looked back to see if Lloyd had sulked off, before he gave Haley’s friend a smile and slipped away. He didn’t really feel like looking at romance anymore - he’d already grabbed a couple of books and his shelf was stuffed to the brim. Yet, he lingered near them until he saw Sprout round the corner. 

“How’d things go with Haley?” he asked. 

Sprout took a sip of her lavender colored drink. “It went fine.” 

“Did you get her number, finally, when she wasn’t on the job?”

Her shoulders slumped. “No,” she whined. 

Magni came up to her and bumped his shoulder with hers. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“What next time? How often do I run into her outside of Sunny’s?”

“That means you just have to come book shopping with me more often,” he told her, cheeky grin on his face. “They do have a great gardening book collection.”

“Fine,” Sprout said. “But for now, I’m feeling pretty book-ed out.”

“Did you even look at any books?”

“I looked at a few. We wandered to the queer sci-fi/fantasy table. Which, I never understood why they group them together,” she informed him. 

He shrugged. “They’re both speculative fiction.”

Sprout snorted into her drink. “Okay, nerd.”

“Don’t call me a nerd, nerd,” he retorted back. “Did you get the name of Haley’s friend?”

“No. I didn’t even see him,” she answered. “Why?”

“Nothing.” Magni finished off his coffee. “Let’s get out of here so I can actually start reading these.”

This night was mild by Bright City standards, but he’d had enough people for one night. 

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

*

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

[lazypeachsoul]

I wouldn't want to spend a minute lovin' anybody else.

Warnings: this fic has some sad moments and mentions of the blip. also kind of AU because I'm completely ignoring Natasha's canon end.

Word count: 4,2k (i got very carried away with this fic)

Summary: · Meeting the right person at the wrong time can be life changing when it doesn’t work out the way we desire. But if it's meant to be it will always happen, right?

A/N: This is my fic for the "Women of Marvel xReader Exchange" created by @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest . It was created for @im-holding-ontoyou and I hope you like it! gif by @natasharomanovgifs 🌼 ALSO; i haven't watched Black Widow yet so I'm sorry if something in this fic doesn't fit the new info we got about natasha.

Masterlist.

To be added to my taglist use this forms or write me an ask!

New York, 2015.

When you received the call from one of your bosses that you had a new case you would have never imagined how big that case would turn out to be.

You had been working for one of the most important law firms in New York for a year now, and you were getting kind of used to reading cases that would be narrated in the papers for months. Rich and entitled men, big divorces were they fight over who gets the yacht, one or two murder cases... if it revolved around the powerful people of New York city, your firm would get it.

When you got to the debriefing and were told that Tony Stark, one of the firm's most important clients, asked your team for assistance in the creation of some legislation with the newly created “Advanced Threat Containment Unit” you were more than surprised.

The events that the Avengers had caused (or saved us from, there were different opinions going around) in the small country of Sokovia were known all around the and it was only time before the most powerful officials asked for the regulation of ‘superhero activity’.

You weren’t important enough to actually attend the meetings that took place with the government, seeing as you had only passed your bar exam a little over a year prior, but you were deemed cheerful and nice enough to act as a nexus between the firm and the client.

For months you spent your days talking to Tony Stark and other members of The Avengers trying to explain what was being talked about. The first few meetings were a disaster, seeing as the mood was somber for the lives lost and nobody really understood your legal jargon. But slowly you started to transform your language and really tried to make the meetings as easy as possible for everyone present.

But who were you kidding, they really didn’t care about the meetings or the silly attorney being sent to explain something that was way above their paycheck. Well, at least Stark was gracious enough to set a coffee station with some pastries for the meeting. You were pouring the hot liquid into your to-go cup when your hand jerked and the hot liquid splashed your hand.

You could feel the sting of the burn but avoided further sudden movements trying not to make it worse. Before you could reach for a napkin to clean up the mess you made, a more dexterous and manicured hand reached for them and exchanged the hot cup in your hand for the bunch of papers.

“Careful, Stark always serves boiling coffee. I think it’s to mask that it’s not the best quality.”

You lifted your gaze from your hand and found a pair of deep green eyes gazing back. You would have thought that spending numerous meetings in the company of superheroes would make you less susceptible to their powerful auras, but being this close to Natasha Romanoff made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Yeah, I found out the hard way.” You joked, lifting your hand a bit. “You would guess one of the richest people in the world would actually serve good coffee...”

Seeing her crack a smile made you feel less tense. Sometimes you forget they are still normal people. Normal people who could kill you with their bare hands and had superhuman powers. She placed your cup on the food table, apparently not bothered by how hot it must have been, and pushed her hand in your direction.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff.” You wrapped your hand around hers and shook it, biting your tongue trying not to tell her of course you knew her name. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself in earlier meetings, we were all trying to come to terms with what had happened.”

“No worries, I can only imagine how hard it must have been for all of you.” You nodded and tried to show her sympathy, trying to avoid thinking about all the lives affected by the fight. “Oh sorry, I’m-”

Natasha quickly cut you off, speaking your name before you could even say it. You could feel your cheeks get warmer at the idea that they actually knew who you were, and she probably could sense your mood change because she quickly explained.

“I know who you are, you send us at least two emails a week about these meetings and FRIDAY always announces you before you arrive.”

“Who announces me?” You asked curiously at the mention of a name you recognized.

“FRIDAY. It’s the name of Stark’s AI technology. It works all around the tower and it’s there to make life easier for everyone.” She explained pointing around at the speakers strategically placed around the room.

“Oh, I get emails from Friday sometimes. Most of them are asking me to translate or explain something about the debriefing because Mr.Stark is not interested in legal terms.” Both you and Natasha laughed at the thought.

But she quickly recomposed and tried to look serious again when she heard her teammates coming in to get ready for the meeting.

“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you think we could schedule a meeting so that you could explain some things about the legislation of the A.T.C.U.?” She spoke lower than she had when the two of you were alone and you wondered why she didn’t want her colleagues to know about the meeting.

“Ye-Yeah, of course I can.” You were confused but thought it would be in your best interest, and the firm’s, to say yes to the proposal. And a meeting with a very attractive and definitely interesting woman was not something that happened constantly for you.

“Great, thank you.” She smiled warmly and squeezed your hand that you hadn’t even realized was still wrapped around hers from the introduction. “I can promise you better coffee.”

You could only hum in response, still trying to piece together what she might want from the meeting. But your thoughts were quickly cut off when Stark entered the room and you moved to start the reunion.

During the entire meeting you could feel the dull pain in your hand from the scorching coffee and the feeling of a pair of green eyes watching your every move.

Vienna, 2016.

The situation had only gone downhill from the Battle of Sokovia. The public’s opinion on the Avengers was at an all-time-low and that made terrorist groups bold. They knew that if they struck and caused enough chaos, the blame would fall on the good guys that tried to stop them.

The only thing that seemed to be a stable thing in your life was Natasha. Well, as stable as dating a superhero might be. She was busy a lot, but you understood the importance of her job and you were quite busy too gaining importance within the law firm.

And even if sometimes terrorists and criminals got in the way you still found a moment to spend together, wrapped around each other without having to think about how messed up life was.

You thought Lagos was the blow that would make everything tumble, the Sokovia accords were unveiled and it broke the Avengers, and your girlfriend. You could feel how torn she was at her decision of some of her friends to oppose the signing and go on the run, and her own decision to subordinate to the United Nations mandate. But you realized how small that had been when king T’Chaka was killed at the UN.

You had been at the UN as part of the USA legal team that participated in the writing and monitoring of the accords. Your participation in the negotiations almost broke your relationship but you were able to recover once you explained your position and Natasha actually came to an understanding of it.

Natasha was also in Vienna when everything went down, you hadn’t managed to properly see her because she was one of the signers and they sat at the assembly while other guests sat at the amphitheater watching the retransmission.

You hadn’t been able to properly see her all day, seeing as she took a detour before flying to Austria. You were only able to communicate through texts where you tried to make the situation more comfortable for her and she promised a peaceful european trip to celebrate the signing.

When the bomb went off and all hell broke loose the first thing you tried to do was look for her, she was at the epicenter of the explosion and you just wanted to see if she was okay. You saw her from afar when you were being pushed to the outside of the building while they swiped the perimeter.

She sat with T’Challa before he jumped from the bench and stomped away. Natasha looked around and your gazes crossed, immediately melting away some of the worry. You tried to push your way through the crowd to get to her, but police and security didn’t budge.

You never took your eyes off of her, scared that if you did she would disappear. But she did move her gaze to her phone and the look that crossed her face when she heard the voice at the other side told you it was a very important call.

Once the call was over and she looked at you again you knew that would probably be the last time you would see her in some time. You hadn’t known Natasha as long as some of her colleagues had, but you could proudly say you could understand what she wanted to say with just a look. And the look on her face in that moment read close to a goodbye.

New York, 2018.

It had been two years since the fall of Helmut Zemo and part of the Avengers was still on the run. And it maybe wouldn’t have had that big of an impact on you if it wasn’t because Natasha had also been on the run for that long.

You had heard about what happened at the Leipzig airport and how Natasha had changed alliances to join Captain America’s fight. You had been heartbroken at the news knowing that any resemblance of normality that you still hope for was destroyed.

You had spent months wondering what had made her change her mind. Had she thought about your conversations about the accords? Had she even remembered you, waiting for her back in New York, when she decided to go on the run?

A part of you tried to convince you of how selfish thinking about that was, why would she think about you when the future of her team and friends was at stake? But also you were her girlfriend, she should have thought about the implications that might have had for you.

In those years you had mourned your relationship and after the grieving period you tried to rebuild your life. New friends, a new position and new chances to take. And it went okay...at least until someone opened their mouth to talk about superheroes or The Avengers. Years down the line and it was still on people’s minds.

On special occasions you would receive anonymous gifts at your office or your apartment. The first birthday after the war you sobbed for fifteen minutes when you saw the bunch of flowers. There was no name or indicative of who might have sent them, that was until you looked better at the card and saw the small red hourglass painted in the corner.

The gifts continued. Every case you won, promotion, birthday or holiday a bunch of flowers would be delivered to you with the same note.

In a way it gave you a sense of peace knowing she was okay and still thought of you. But the more you thought about it the angrier you got at how she had left you.

You didn’t expect a message from your boss to run to the Avengers compound and assess some situation between Coronel Rhodes and Thaddeus Ross. Although the team had crumbled, your company was still hired to legally represent the remaining members and moderate situations that might arise with the government.

You entered the compound expecting another bureaucratic complaint about their activity but you found a trickier situation. The meeting room was filled with people you thought you would never see again.

Captain Rogers was sitting on one of the chairs sporting a new look that made you almost not recognize him and a tense demeanor. Next to him was Sam Wilson, looking around at the smallest of movements and trying to assess the situation. Wanda Maximoff was standing on the furthest corner of the room playing with her rings, meanwhile Vision was apparently being checked out for a wound. What kind of wounds a synthezoid could get was beyond your understanding.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, I might have angered Secretary Ross during a meeting.” Rhodey came up to you with a nervous smile.

You had gotten closer to him thanks to your job seeing as he was the one doing the dirty superhero work.

“Yeah, I got that much from the text. Nothing new then.” You tried to joke to diffuse the tension in the room. “It would have been nice to know you had guests though.”

“We are not guests. Last time I checked this was our home too.”

That voice made your blood freeze. You should have expected her there, all her friends had returned and the chance of her being back too was almost 100%. But hearing her voice again after two years was not something you expected.

You bit your tongue before you could talk about how it’s not a home if you abandon it, but decided against it. This was a fight between them, not Natasha and you.

“I need you to work with the government to avoid this situation becoming a disaster.” Rhodey explained and you scoffed.

“Rhodey, I’m a lawyer not a politician. I have as much power in this as you might have.” You tried to lay your point across but it was difficult with all eyes on the interaction. “Hell, I have even less power than you do.”

“Then I need you to distract them enough to get them off our shoulders.” He pressed. “Something big is coming and we need all the strength we can get.”

You thought about it for a moment. If it was true that something big was coming, the Avengers were the best option to fight it.

“I’m in.” You scoffed at his smile and sat down in one of the chairs of the meeting room. “I’m not ready for the world to end yet.”

The meeting went on for a while. You called bosses, government officials and everyone that would listen to your distractions. You sent emails that would flood their inboxes for days so that they couldn’t read any news that might reach them about what the superheroes had in mind.

It was late at night when a cup of steaming liquid was placed next to you. You looked at it and saw that it was some kind of herbal tea, probably made to relax the drinker. You followed the hand that was still holding the mug until you reached Natasha’s face.

You had done your best to ignore her looming presence in the room but now there was no distraction. Looking at her you could see tiredness in her face. She was platinum blonde now, a look that weirdly suited her, but her face still looked as welcoming to you as it always did.

You tried to stop the flashbacks to the last time you saw it in person in Vienna, but they kept replaying in your head until her voice broke you out of the loop.

“I thought you might need it, I remember how nervous calls used to make you.”

She was smiling but you could tell it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I got over it since I got my promotion. Now I spend a long portion of my day making calls.”

She hummed and sat down next two you, but leaving a chair in between you as a safe space.

“I read about it in an article, I sent you flowers to celebrate.”

“I got them. And the Christmas ones. On my birthday too.” You enumerated the times you had gotten the plants in the past two years. “You must have spent an awful amount of money buying me so many flowers.”

“You deserved it, you still do.” She shrugged and that’s when you noticed she had her own mug of warm tea in her other hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to celebrate with you.”

You laughed into your mug sarcastically. Out of everything you expected her to say this wasn’t one of them.

“Did you really? Because you didn’t seem to consider me much when you went on the run for two years.”

Natasha paled when she heard your tone. She probably wasn’t used to situations like these but you weren’t going to let her go without an apology at least.

“I was trying to do the best for-”

“-for the world. I get it, Natasha, I do.” You tried to contain your emotions but it was getting harder with every word. “Relationships are supposed to be teamwork. I know you are always too busy playing heroes and I never judged you for that, I just wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me before you disappeared.”

She was silent and knowing Natasha it’s because she was probably overwhelmed with the display of feelings. But she needed to hear how bad you had felt.

After minutes of waiting for an answer from her and getting nothing but sighs you shook your head and looked back at the computer screen.

“I guess it was a case of the right person, wrong time.” You shrugged trying to find distraction in the flurry of letters in your email inbox. “Or at least it was for me.”

She got up from her seat without a word and you grew exasperated. Why had she even approached you if then she wasn’t willing to have an adult, two sided conversation? She was almost at the door when you heard her voice again.

“Please never doubt how much I love you. I made some bad choices but dating you was not one of them.”

New York, 2024.

Time apparently flies by when you are erased from the face of the earth. One day you are in your office working late and the next you appear five years in the future with no recollection of what might have happened.

You were taken by authorities to impromptu camps and one by one examined to check your identities. The entire thing seemed to be something out of one of the dystopian novels you used to read as a teenager.

When it was your turn you gave them all the information you had on what had happened. You had given them your name and personal information and apparently had been a very searched person because the computer started beeping as soon as your name was introduced in the database.

You were moved to a secluded part of the camp and kept in an isolated room for god knows how long. Your stomach was in knots during the entire situation and you could feel the cold sweat on you. That mixed with the metallic taste on your tongue you knew this time your anxiety was justified. You were almost dizzy because of how hard you were thinking about the entire situation and trying to make sense of it.

When you heard the door of the room open you jumped up, discarding on the floor a makeshift blanket that had been placed on your shoulders when you got there. Your legs almost gave out at the movement and your heart felt like it was going to burst out.

The door opened enough for you to see who had been searching for you. Natasha stepped through the door still dressed in her tactic gear and with tiredness written all over her face. But that feeling seemed to almost disappear when she finally saw you.

With quick movements she stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around you tightly. For some reason that action was the trigger that you needed to let all your emotions consume you.

You started sobbing uncontrollably at the unknown. You didn’t understand what happened or how you are here, but feeling her embrace helped you feel safe in a way. It had been years since you last hugged her but it still felt as good as back in 2015.

You could hear Natasha’s soothing shushes in between your sobs and you moved to hold her tighter.

“You are here. I can’t believe I found you again.” She spoke softly and you didn’t know if she was speaking to you or herself. “It’s okay darling. I’m here and I’m not letting you go again. I promise.”

And with that promise a ray of hope made way between all the fear you felt.

Missouri, 2025.

Soft music could be heard all around the ground floor of the house. The soft beat was upbeat enough to get the morning started but not enough to be overwhelming if you had just woken up. You were sitting on the kitchen island looking at the news on your phone and having breakfast.

Mornings were usually very calm around the homestead and you couldn’ be more thankful for that. It allowed you to silently prepare your breakfast and coffee and get a headstart on Natasha’s breakfast too.

Since she had retired, Natasha had discovered a newfound love for sleeping in and you didn’t dare to take that away from her. She deserved it from all the work she had done in her life.

You, meanwhile, tried to get up early to scroll through the cases that you got in your new and smaller job and schedule meetings or emails.

It was a Saturday so work wasn’t a thing and you could actually enjoy your toast and coffee in peace. Or at least until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your middle and pulled you back against Natasha.

“Good morning baby, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” You could feel her smile when she kissed your cheek from behind. “You weren’t there when I woke up though.”

You shrugged before moving to get a bite out of your toast. Natasha tried to do the same but you quickly moved it away from her with a smile. She tried again and you moved as fast as your reflexes allowed you.

“C’mon baby, give me a bite” “No, it’s my toast. You can make your own.” “But it tastes better when you make it.” “No it doesn’t, don’t be lazy.”

The playful fight continued for a few moments until she got close enough to get a small bit but you moved it again.

“Don’t make me bite you, darling.”

You chuckled at her threat and plopped the remaining toast on the plate in front of you. Breakfast didn’t matter much anymore. You threw yourself into her arms and pressed your lips against hers. It wasn’t a slow and sensual kiss, it was closer to how small kids smooch their parents. But you knew it would convey your love more deeply.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Nat.” You spoke against her lips and squaked when you felt her playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Is now a good time?”

That question had become recurring in your household, a nod to the phrase you said when you found eachother again after being separated the first time.

“I couldn’t think of a more perfect time.”

And you couldn’t. The rest of your life spent in a homestead with your girlfriend and whatever life might bring? It sounded absolutely delightful.

Taglist: @tagehaya @flyforeverfree @rooskaya-yelena @evalynanne @insanitybyanothername @princessayveke @yelenabelovasgf @kyli314

[bigskydreaming]

I’m a big believer that Dick’s independence and self-reliance isn’t in any way rooted in him just being stubborn, prideful or self-destructive. I view it as being in his eyes a necessity….because on a deep, fundamental level….Dick doesn’t trust anything to be permanent. 

I’ll always go back to the fact that his character archetype isn’t that of the everyman, because he was of lower class origins compared to Bruce’s extreme upper class background.....but rather that given that Dick Grayson was allegedly exceptional from his debut, a child prodigy capable of feats of acrobatics few in the world could match....he could never actually be classified as an everyman. Rather, his core archetype is that of the fish out of water. The individual taken from the comforts of his original pond and thrust into a limelight of an entirely different nature from the one he grew up in, with the two not at all being interchangeable, and necessitating he change and adapt in dramatic and often unanticipated ways just to keep his footing in his new environs.

Its not incidental that his initial tragedy wasn’t JUST the loss of his parents, but rather the loss of his old routines, extended family, environment, way of life, expectations for the way his future would play out....it ALL vanished on the same night, never to return again. The loss of his parents was tragedy enough all on its own, but its really only one part of what Dick lost that night. He lost his entire footing. His frames of reference. Everything his life had previously prepared him for and everything he could have used as a familiar comfort or source of stability to lean on, if it had been ‘just’ his parents that he lost.

And I fundamentally don’t believe you ever get over THAT loss, no matter what peace you make with the loss of your loved ones or specific elements of that. Once you’ve experienced a shake-up of that size, once you have a bone-deep, visceral awareness of how completely your life can change in the blink of an eye, how you can effectively be set back to zero as though nothing you’ve previously accomplished matters (remember, he went from a kid whose name drew crowds on its OWN merits, based on what HE was capable of due to his own work and skills, the youngest of the Flying Graysons, capable of an acrobatic feat barely anyone else in the world could master......to being a kid who was only ever identified as in the context of Bruce Wayne having taken him in, as though his existence and worth were defined by someone else’s act of compassion rather than based on anything he’d ever done on his own, when the fact of the matter is even by age eight, he’d already accomplished a LOT)....

Like, the point is, you can’t go through a shake-up like that and ever fully FORGET how complete and total a change it was, how big a rewrite of your entire life story. 

That’s a trauma all its own, one that goes largely unacknowledged, and one that I don’t think Bruce and Alfred or anyone else fully realized was even there TO need addressing in the first place. So of course how could they ever fully address it, without realizing a need?

And I think Dick’s constant moves and self-reliance are actually born of that primal awareness that there are no guarantees, that nothing is truly permanent, that anything can be taken away in an instant.

He’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to be taken away again - as people have pointed out in other posts, Dick can never seem to have nice things. Even the apartment building he lived in while in Bludhaven….that wasn’t some height of luxury by ANY stretch of the imagination…was lost to him, along with all the friends and neighbors and community he’d built among them, something evidenced by how highly they all spoke of him, even to a total stranger. And that’s not even getting into how even the CITY he sought to establish himself as a guardian over, like, he lost the city itself. The CITY!

Dick, I believe, insists on holding down 9-5 jobs and paying his own way and only touching money that comes from Bruce originally, when like…he has no other option or its to help someone else….just like he’s resistant to ever fully putting down roots, at least none so deep that he can’t uproot himself and quickly relocate without ripping off a piece of himself and leaving it still buried in the ground behind him. 

Because deep down, he’s always bracing for the next seismic event that’ll rip everything away from him, and he wants to be prepared. He WANTS to make sure he never takes anything for granted. That if he loses it all - hell, if he and Bruce fight again and Bruce decides once and for all to take it all away from Dick, cut their ties, something that would very much be a deep-rooted insecurity for a kid with as massive of abandonment issues as Dick must have given his childhood and a number of events after that…

Dick I think needs to trust that he’ll be capable of surviving, of standing on his own two feet, if the worst should ever happen again and he’s left on his own again. His self-reliance and obsessive need for independence aren’t a REJECTION of anyone else or anything Bruce or others have ever done for him.

They’re simply the defense mechanisms of a boy who was once upon a time torn away from everything he knew and in certain origins was then on top of that plunged into hellish circumstances before finding a refuge with Bruce….

And the man that boy grew up to be, who is determined to never be caught in a situation like that again, where his very survival might otherwise require the kindness of a stranger….with Dick knowing better than to count on lightning striking twice there, and him getting lucky a second time.

So in a lot of ways, my core perception of Dick having spent more time growing up in the luxury of Wayne Manor than any of the other kids is that its largely irrelevant to who he grew up to be. Because he was still more than old enough by the time he arrived that he had formative experiences all his own that no amount of time was sufficient to overwrite and exchange for new ones.

His experiences are so extreme in terms of the loss of all forms of stability, that the SHAPE that stability takes in the periods where his life IS stable, is largely unimportant. Because its the absence of stability that’s the defining recurrence in his life. Even the stability offered by his childhood in Wayne Manor eventually gave way to canon where he left the Manor before he was even eighteen, as well as canon where no matter how it was ultimately reversed, he was for a time affected by having the ability to call the Manor his home STRIPPED AWAY FROM HIM. Thus even when Bruce did ultimately welcome him back, there still retained an awareness that even the fact that this had happened in the first place was a reminder that even THIS was something Dick could lose, that no matter how stable his childhood there had been at times, it couldn’t in and of itself be COUNTED as a source of stability due to the simple fact that his ability to call it his home HADN’T turned out to be an irrevocable constant. 

And so this is another of those areas where I think its fundamentally an oversight to have members of the family commenting on Dick’s self-reliance or tendencies to relocate himself, let alone in any kind of critical capacity......

If there’s not going to be an acknowledgment within the family or by the people raising these criticisms like, what kind of a role the family themselves have played in Dick feeling a NEED to have these tendencies in the first place.

If someone doesn’t trust in any place he lives in to ever truly be a constant in his life, truly permanent, that anything can be taken away in the right circumstances....and you yourself have done something that has made him feel or given him reason TO leave a place he’s found stability in at some point in the past....you kiiiiiinda forsake your right to be critical of his inability to see any place as permanent or constant, y’know?

Like, insert Miranda Whatshername gif or Meryl Streep peering down her glasses and going oh I see, you think this has nothing to do with you.

So I’d argue that Dick’s insistence on simulating the average person’s reality of livelihood, even when he has other means and funds available to him….just as his insistence on being as solely responsible for the well-being of the place or people he sees as his responsibilities, being single-minded about relying only on himself for tasks that he sees as ultimately having nothing to do with someone other than himself, etc....

All that is in my opinion BECAUSE he’s so firmly attached to the reality that anything and everything can be taken away, at ANY given moment. That he can be reduced to having nothing and no one he can depend on BEYOND just his own innate skills and experiences, the only things he trusts to be truly unable to be stripped from him by others.

If you ask me, one of the core aspects of Dick’s characterization throughout his adulthood in canon is SPECIFICALLY his fear that everything he cares about, or trusts, or relies on…can be taken away from him or lost. 

And his determination to make sure that he’ll be able to survive even if that should ever happen again.

[ikleesfiction]

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary :  You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1  🞂  2  🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. 

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 1

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late? 

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 1,496

A/N: So, I did a thing. This started as a one shot that I half wrote like a month ago and gave up on. Then I got haunted by Whitney Houston (and later, when she got sick of bugging me, she moved on to @jessiembruno, I’m assuming to send her to harass me about finishing). This week, inspiration struck and I finished it...and it became a mini-series. So look forward to this over the next 4 Wednesdays. 

A couple of quick shout outs I wanted to get out there: @callmeellabella, thank you for being so sweet and taking a look at the snippet I provided. @queenrileyrose, thank you for taking the time to chat with me, I hope the story lives up to the hype I gave it. 

A not so quick shout out to @jessiembruno, I pretty much annoyed you every step of the way in writing this one, sharing screenshots, and letting you know every time that damn song showed up in my life. Your notes when you read it for me gave me so much encouragement, you were invaluable in helping me get through that last emotional push at the end. Hell, you even titled the thing! I don’t know why we hurt Liam the way we do, but I know in the end, we’ll always give him a happy ending (wait...not like that...well, maybe sometimes like that). 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know! 

Riley sat on the rooftop overlooking New York City, Maxwell rattling off the different images he saw in the stars as she got lost in her thoughts. They were in New York as the last leg of Liam and Madeleine’s engagement tour. Soon, they would be going back to Cordonia where she would be expected to sit in a cathedral and watch the love of her life marry another woman. 

They had been investigating the scandal that came out at the coronation for weeks, and didn’t seem to be any closer to finding Tariq. As the time ran out, Riley’s hope of a cleared name faded further and further away. Could she really go back there and watch another woman steal her happily ever after? She was already in New York, it would be easy to just stay and try to start her life back up again. Honestly, if she wasn’t going back there to marry Liam, what was the point of going back at all? Sure, she had made a couple of great friends, but there were a million and one ways for them to stay in touch. Or ghost them, to avoid hearing about Liam and his wife. She wasn’t quite sure which option she would choose once all was said and done.    

She weighed out the pros and cons, and finally decided that she would not be returning to Cordonia with the rest of the court. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone, she wasn’t going to give them the opportunity to team up on her and talk her into going back. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Liam, he had already talked her into being the other woman for this entire tour, a moniker she swore she would never take on in her lifetime. She knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to him, and would be convinced to come back to Cordonia and be miserable. She would do it tonight, once they returned to the hotel, she would get her things together, and sneak out while everyone else slept. Daniel had an extra room, conveniently, he was using it to store the stuff she didn’t bring with her when Maxwell whisked her away. 

“Earth to Riley. Are you even listening? I’m dropping some of my A+ material right now.” Maxwell waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry Max, I was just thinking. Must have zoned out a little.”

“It’s ok, I get it. There’s a lot going on right now.” He replied empathetically, suddenly jumping to his feet in excitement. “I know, let’s go out!”

“We are out.” She looked up at him.

“No, not boring UN Gala out. Fun out! I’ll grab everyone, the dream team will cheer you up!”

Riley paused to think about it for a second. If she wasn’t going to give her friends a proper goodbye, maybe one last adventure would be the perfect way to remember them. They could do it up big, and then she would start over in the morning. She smiled softly at her friend before responding. “That sounds really nice Maxwell, I’d love to.”

“Yes!” Maxwell raised his fist in the air and pulled her into a hug. “You go back to the hotel and change, I’ll get the gang together and text you where to meet.”

Riley went back to the hotel and put on some more comfortable clothes. Something she would typically wear on a night out in New York. She didn’t want to start packing yet, in case Maxwell offered to walk her back to her room. She reached out to Daniel to make sure she could stay with him. Of course he said yes, while also trying to get the details. She promised to fill him in on everything when she got there. The more she thought about her plan, the more she started to worry. Maxwell said he was going to get everyone together. Did that mean Liam would be there? Would she be able to keep herself composed, and keep her secret, knowing that this would be the last time she would ever see him? She started second guessing her plan, she should have just left. Tonight was going to suck. 

She entered the bar, and immediately noticed Maxwell, Drake, and Hana in a corner booth. No Liam. She took a deep breath and approached them. “Hey guys!” She put on her cheeriest face. 

“Thank God, Brooks. Maxwell can harass you now.” Drake rolled his eyes and patted the seat next to him. 

Riley slid into the booth and put her arm around Drake, giving him a side hug. “Aww, poor Drakey. I’ll save you from big bad Maxwell.” Hana and Maxwell laughed, and Drake rolled his eyes. “So Maxwell, why this place? You know I’ve lived here for like ever, I could have picked.”

“No, this is your cheer up night, so I needed to find the perfect place, and this is it.” He gestured to the stage. “It’s karaoke night!” 

“So, if this is to cheer me up, and it’s karaoke night, does that mean Drake is going to serenade me?” She turned to face Drake, smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. 

“Fat chance.” Drake looked at Riley with a stern expression. “I’ll buy you drinks, that’s as cheery as you’re getting from me.”

“Sold!” She put her hand out and shook Drake’s. She signaled for the waitress to come over, and ordered a round of shots for the table, and a drink for herself.  

As the night went on, the group laughed and sang and told stories. Riley was having a great time, and wasn’t letting on in the slightest that this would be the last time they were all together. Maxwell had just come offstage from his third performance of the night, as he walked toward the table, his smile grew and he waved his hand to greet someone. “Liam, you made it!” 

Riley’s breath caught in her throat, and she could swear she felt her heart stop. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself before standing and turning toward the door to greet him. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.”

Liam’s eyes started to sparkle the second they met hers, his smile lighting up at the sight of her. She looked just as beautiful as she did the night they met, he loved when she was dressed casually. Sure, she was stunning in ballgowns and expensive designer clothes, but this was her. Authentic Riley. The Riley that had captured his heart. “It took me some time to get away, but Maxwell said you needed cheering up, so this is where I need to be right now.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. 

Suddenly, Riley was frozen. She wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. Everything had been going so smoothly. Why did he have to show up? She couldn’t be there anymore. Not as long as he was. Now that she was faced with the reality of her plan, she didn’t know what she was thinking just leaving Liam without saying goodbye. Without telling him how much he truly meant to her. But she also knew she couldn’t give him a chance to talk her out of it. She decided she would use this opportunity to sing her feelings. 

“I have to go. It’s my turn to sing.” She turned away from Liam abruptly, pulling the shot glass out of Drake’s hands before it could reach his lips, bringing it to hers and throwing her head back. With that, she walked to the front of the bar.

After a quick conversation with the DJ, she walked to the microphone and looked down. As the music started, she looked up and locked eyes with Liam. She proceeded to sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ while keeping her eyes locked on his. Their friends looked back and forth between the two of them, seeing the pain in both of their expressions. As the songs continued, Riley was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check. She started to avoid Liam’s gaze, only glancing up at him occasionally. To most of the room, it sounded like she was leaning heavily on her vibrato, but her friends all knew that was her emotions getting the best of her. 

Once the song finished, she placed the microphone back on the stand and quickly ducked into the crowd, before any of her friends could catch up to her. She carefully made her way to the door and left the bar. She walked a few blocks before she lost the battle she was fighting with her tears. After taking some time to gather herself, she continued on her way to Daniel’s apartment. There was no way she would be able to go back to the hotel, she’d figure out how to get her stuff later. 

Permatags: @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @chemist-ana @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam X Riley:

@jared2612​

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[beskarberry]

Krayt’s Teeth

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 3 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead of you, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.7k

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, killing in self defense, headcanon angst, FLUFF, sensory deprivation, body worship, oral sex (f receiving).

A/N: These are my headcanons regarding Mandalorian culture in terms of sex, I didn’t find much lore on it so whether it’s accurate or not idk but I like them and that’s all that matters! Enjoy~

<-Previous Next->

You could have slept forever, even on that horrible little cot you were so comfortable that you could have been out for days, but the only one on it was you. You did’t know when Mando got up from the tiny space you both shared through the night, or how he managed to get out from your tangled bodies without waking you up. You opened your eyes to tiny green baby hands tugging at your fingers. 

“Hey booger, is it time for breakfast? Where’s your papa?” You started to sit up, but the horrible sticky mess underneath you made you reluctant to move, a mix of passion and pain from the day before. “Yikes. I’m gonna run all his water out if I have to keep using the fresher. Come on, let’s get scrubbed up.” The baby gibbered excitedly at you, though you weren’t sure how much of what you said he actually understood. You scooped him into your arms without looking back at the sad little cot and all its stains. “You’re water proof, right?”

The ship’s engines were rumbling away, so you guessed tin man was up in the cockpit flying you towards your next bounty. Or Nevarro. You would have to find Mr. Mystery later, the grossness that was you had to be dealt with. Between you and the child your shower took forever, the two of you getting water and soap bubbles from top to bottom. You didn’t care. You had been on Tatooine for months without having a real shower, being consigned to the sonic freshers that vibrated the sand off of the moisture farmer’s bodies; and this was the second real shower you’d gotten to have in twice as many days. You spent a good deal of time trying to get your chatty friend to hold still long enough to be dried off, the little fart squealing with joy every time you went for him with the towel.

An ordeal later you were both fresh and presentable, but your host was still nowhere to be seen, though the ugly sheets had thankfully disappeared from view. The ship was quiet now, without the engine running you knew you had to be back on the ground, and you could hear a distinct hum of activity coming through the walls. Space port? He flew us into town? The thought was replaced immediately with a rich, savory smell coming through the air vents: FOOD! Your gut grumbled loud enough to resonate through the cabin and earn you a confused look from the baby. When was the last time you really ate? You’d been living on ration packs for the last couple of days. That was going to change right now.

“Ya hungry buddy? Me too! Maybe that’s where your dad is, hmm?” Grabbing your old backpack and hooking the baby under your arm you started punching buttons on the wall to get the door open, sending walls sliding and cabinets opening before you got one of the access ramps open. Bright double sunlight nearly blinded you, and on reflex you covered the baby’s giant googly eyes. It took a moment for your own to adjust to the radiant light of the Tatooine morning, and the smell of cooking food hit you like a ton of bricks, making your mouth water. As your eyes adjusted you were able to take in your surroundings: though it was bright outside you were parked low inside a maintenance bay, the walls of which soared high above you; littered with engine parts and humming with droid activity. Sound was the last input your hungry brain could process, but when it did you didn’t like what you heard. The sounds of an argument echoed around the hangar, high and shrill.

“I already told you, you can’t park here! You’re bad for business!”

“I just need to park here long enough to get supplies.”

“Well you’re gonna have to pay up, Mando! I’m not running a charity here! You got credits for supplies you got credits for parking! Up front this time!”

Oh no.

Of all the mechanics and docking hangars in Mos Eisley he had to pick this one. The fireball of a woman barely came up to your partner’s chest, but she made up for it with unbridled fury; and the giant cooked animal leg she was swinging around like a club between bites made her look even more formidable. She noticed you coming down the ramp and stopped grilling your comrade long enough to glare daggers through your skull.

“Oh NO! No nope nuh uh! You can turn right back around and get back on that ship, missy! I knew it! I knew you were bad for business, Mando! What’re you doing running around with her? I hope she’s your bounty because she’s your problem!”

“Peli.” Your words were cold as ice, but the squirming baby in your arms took all the malice out of your stance. He wiggled until you set him down, and he ran towards the mechanic with open arms.

“Baby! You can stay but your dad’s gotta take the mean lady somewhere else! She cheats at sabacc!”

“You lost fair and square, Peli! Try playing a better hand next time!”

“Ladies please!”  Mando cut through your bickering, holding his arms up between the two of you like he was trying to corner a pair of wild blurgs. “If I let the child stay with you for the day, will you let me park the Razor Crest here? Just for a couple hours?”

Peli bounced the child on her hip, offering him a bite of her breakfast. The baby squealed happily while he sank his little teeth into the mighty snack, though the size of it comically dwarfed his itty bitty hands. “I’ll tell you what, you let me keep him and then maybe I’ll let you park here in a week.” Mando cocked his helmet at her with disdain and she huffed loudly, “Well if you put it that way, I guess you can park here, but you gotta put five hundred credits down, and not a cent less!”

Mando reeled, stabbing his hands to his hips with indignation. “Five hund- absolutely not! What am I going to buy our-” You interrupted his tirade with a hand on his shoulder, waving a slew of credits in front of his eyes. Peli snatched them out of your hand, fanning them out like cards to count them.

“Who’d you cheat these outta?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You leaned casually against your metal man, eyeing Peli with a smug look on your face. “Let’s go, Mando. Bye baby green bean, have fun with Auntie Cheats-at-Sabacc!” You spun him around by the hand and dragged him towards the exit, ignoring the insults being slung at your back. “We are getting breakfast and that’s final!”

The Mandalorian allowed you to pull him along a few feet before grinding his heels into the sand, shaking his head. “You have to stay here.”

Now it was your turn for sassy head tilts. “I just paid for your parking, buckethead, that makes me in charge and I’m hungry! I’ll buy you breakfast too if you want.” He didn’t budge, fixing you with that intense stare of his and grabbing you by the shoulders.

“You are still being hunted. Mos Eisley isn’t safe for you.”

Ah.

You knew you could look after yourself, and he himself had compared you to a ferocious rancor just yesterday. You groaned loudly, “Shit balls of hell. But dad, I’m huuunngry!” The man bristled at your paternal harassment, sighing heavily and letting his helmeted head fall to the side like the world was ending. He glanced around the hangar exit, his shiny beskar snapping to each object of interest until he located a protocol droid corpse that was missing everything from the waist down. He strode over to it and held it down with one boot, yanking it by the head until it popped off. He began prying the droid’s vocorder apart at the mouth, pulling it wide until the droids face plate broke off with a snap! Tossing the rest of the logic processing unit to the ground, he held the face plate up to the light, inspecting the clarity of its photo receptor casings. He bent back down to the junk pile and fished out a stray wire to thread through the ruined audio processors, then tossed the finished creation to you.

“Put that on.”

You turned the makeshift mask over in your hands to check for sharp edges before you pressed it to your face. The bug eyes on the front were dirty, but you could see well enough. Before you could clean them more thoroughly you felt the weight of fabric on your head, his cloak now worn as your own. The thought of how you must look made you giggle. “You make me take my clothes off, now you want me to put clothes on. It never ends with you, Mando. Next you’ll be forging me beskar. Now can we eat something, please?” Without a word the armored man turned on his heel and walked out the hangar exit. I’ll take that as a yes.

Mos Eisley buzzed with life, people and animals and things you couldn’t explain made their way up and down the bustling streets. The smell of food led you to a vendor selling something that could have been a root vegetable, covered in herbs and spices and grilled to perfection. You couldn't wait, all thoughts of self-preservation went out the window as you hauled ass to the stand, waving two fingers in the air. When you had both of your prizes in hand you stuffed the savory veggie under your mask, sighing contentedly at the taste of real honest-to-Maker food. “Hey tin man, I hope you like... whatever this-” You turned to offer your partner something to eat, but he had disappeared from the crowd. “Alright... more for me.”

Taking a newspaper from the vendor you wrapped the extra snack up tight and threw it in your pack for later, continuing to chow down on your own. You would find Mando eventually, and you had credits to spend. You had held onto your hush-money for months to avoid suspicion, but now it was burning a hole in your pocket. Wandering the streets of Mos Eisley from merchant to merchant you began accumulating a small hoard of supplies, ranging from bacta to hand tools, and food. Whatever you could get your hands on that would survive hyperspace when you inevitably left this fucking dirtball for good; though you still weren’t convinced that you wouldn’t be making that flight in carbonite. You picked out new clothes and underwear, a much-needed bedroll, and some soft bantha-wool blankets. Something further down the marketplace caught your eye, and you made your way to the fancier items that glittered in the double daylight. You didn’t wear jewelry yourself, a poor choice of attire for a hunter, but the way the trinkets caught the light still made you wistful. Your hidden eyes danced over the glittering treasures; jewels and geodes that had been found deep in the sands and polished to a radiant shine.

You spotted something opalescent at the end of one table and found a pair of krayt teeth, each about the size of your palm. They had been sanded to a smooth, flat finish and carved with intricate desert patterns. The backs of them had tiny fittings that could be sewn on as buttons, or pulled off to reveal magnets. Something about their shape seemed familiar, though you couldn’t imagine why in that moment. You purchased the unique pieces anyway, something to remind you that even the harshest of places could hold hidden beauty. After a while you had so much junk piled in your arms that you could barely see over it, and tin man was nowhere to be found. You spotted a courier droid and paid for it to deliver your treasures back to Hanger 3-5, though you kept the pricey teeth in your pockets. With your arms free you started looking for your missing comrade.

The streets were busy with people, you would have to get somewhere out of the way in order to scan the crowds. Your eyes went from shimmer to shimmer, looking for his reflective chrome dome. “Big jerk,” you mused to yourself “‘Mos Eisley’s not saaafe...’ If he’s so worried then where the hell is he? Bah!” The scratched-up photoreceptor casings of your mask made it a challenge to see through the crowd, and you took a moment to adjust the iris apertures so you wouldn’t have to keep squinting into the double sunshine when you felt a hand on your back. Finally. “Mando, where have you-”

“Mando? Whos’sis man-do? Nah sssweetheart, I think you got me confused wi’ sssomeone elssse.” The slithering voice in your ear made your blood run cold. Not Mando! You rocketed your elbow backwards, connecting with the gut of the stranger on your back with an -oof! The hand let go long enough for you to make a run for it, and you tore off down the streets of the busy spaceport, smashing into bystanders in your wake. You cast a quick look behind you to see a large reptilian body flying after you, brownish scales catching the reflection of the noonday suns. Though you had your blaster, the risk of hitting a civilian was too great, so running would have to do. You were thankful for the courier droid that had freed your hands just minutes before as you barreled down the busy streets.

Market stalls flew past you, your boots kicking up sand and dust. The mask on your face, as dirty as it was, kept the debris from your eyes as you raced through the sunburnt city. You had to lose this fucker and fast. You turned down an alley, left, right, another right, leaping over supply crates and low fences like a lothcat. You turned to see if you had lost your chaser, breath heaving and heart pounding. Behind you was clear, but you took your eyes off your path for just a second too long, and were taken by surprise when a heavy weight fell on you from above.

The Trandoshan had gone over the low sandstone roofs, chasing you easily through the alleyways of Mos Eisley while you were none the wiser. He pinned you under him quickly, ripping your blaster off your hip and pointing your own barrel in your face. “Tha’ss enough, princesss! Nice n’ quietlike now. You gonna make me a pretty penny you are.” The lizard’s words dripped with metaphorical venom, though you were sure by the look of those fangs that real venom was probably right behind. “Ahm gonna cart yer arse right back to th’ Guild’n I’ll become th’ most famous hunter in th’ galax -urk!”  With a sickening gag the hunter above you grew a shiny new fang in the back of his throat before falling down dead on top of you, a vibroblade protruding from back of his skull.

“Took you long enough!” You hollered at your chrome companion, who was stepping forward to kick the carcass off of you. “Where the fuck have you been? Getting your rifle polished?” He pulled you to your feet, handing you your blaster while readjusting the mask on your face. You swatted at his fussing hands, but when you looked at him you were shocked to see not one but three blinking bounty fobs dangling from his belt. On the ground by the dead lizard was a fourth, flashing rapidly in the sand.

“I told you you weren’t safe! We need to leave right now.”  You were barely able to grab the remaining bounty fob while you were being tugged away by your allied hunter. He had a death grip on your hand, pulling you along behind him towards what you hoped was the docking hangar. You would have to cross the main street to get there, and as the pair of you plowed across the dusty, busy road there came shouts from either side. More hunters, fucking Guild! You didn’t have a single second to assess them before you were lead through an alley on the other side of the street. These were darker than the ones you had run through on the west side of town, and shady bodies moved quickly out of the way of your living locomotive.

At the end of a narrow alley you both burst through a door leading into an abandoned building. The darkness was almost worse than the blinding sunlight, you would need time for your eyes to adjust but the Mandalorian had enough sensory detection equipment that he ghosted through the ruinous building with ease; never once letting go of your hand as you tripped and stumbled through the dark. The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

“There! Get down!” Mando pointed at a pile of rubble, probably big enough to hide behind, but that’s not how you handled business.

“Fuck you! I’m not going down without a fight!” You pulled your blaster out and aimed at the incoming assailants. He growled at you and stepped closer, putting his body in between you and the door. The reptilian hunters burst from the darkness of the warehouse, firing rapid shots of blaster charges that bounced off of Mando’s beskar. You fired over his protective arm, taking out the first one and tripping up the second, who fell over his cohorts limp body. Mando took shot after shot to the chest, reeling with each impact. His other arm cocked back and shot out, sending a wall of fire into the last of the Guild’s hired guns.

Both of you were panting, shaking and sweating from flying through Mos Eisley, but the sound of blaster fire would draw attention and you knew there was no time to waste. You stepped over the incinerated corpse, making sure the fob it carried was melted, the second body still squirmed in the dirt, and you weren’t going to let it get a second chance, firing your blaster through it’s scaly skull. You picked the remaining two fobs and stuffed them in your pockets, making a run for it back through the building with Mando right behind, the blaze of his flamethrower lighting your way.

You took a different door out of the building and were relieved to see the words ‘HANGAR 3-5′ painted in bright blue Basic straight ahead. You skittered through the entrance, rounding the corner and dropping down behind the edges of the hangar doorway. Mando did the same on the other side, both of you pointing your blasters back towards Mos Eisley’s dark heart. Bootsteps behind you made you snap around, and you nearly shot your mechanically inclined host.

“You kids have fun out there?” Peli stood over where you were hunched, and you lowered your blaster to the ground. At her feet your little buddy was holding onto her pant leg, making big puppy dog eyes at you. You looked over to Mando to make sure there weren’t any more coming, but he still held his blaster out ahead. After a few tense seconds he lowered it down until it was back in its’ holster, then pulled himself to his feet.

“We can’t stay any longer, we’re putting you in danger. Time to go, kiddo.” His charred beskar still shimmered when he bent down to pick up his adopted son, who chirped with delight. “Thank you for watching him.”

“He can stay any time! Oh and thanks for all the snacks you made that droid bring me!” Peli called after the three of you as your party quickly boarded the Razor, making you turn around and stick your tongue out at her. She happily flipped you off and started closing the ground entrance to the bay, letting you board the ship uninterrupted. Fortunately, the courier droid’s delivery had made it to the ship, though you couldn't help but notice a few of your most carefully picked snacks had been taken as collateral. Fucking Peli. As much as she infuriated you, there wasn’t another person on all of Tatooine that you would rather play sabacc with.

The old rust bucket rumbled to life, taking off into the midafternoon sky and pointed towards the stars. Finally! Bye motherfucker. The hazy atmosphere of the outer rim planet fell away below you until the light of the bright yellow world illuminated the Crest’s stern. The pre-Imperial scrapheap started howling with noise, and you were almost thrown to the deck when it blasted into the safety of hyper space.

Your heart was still racing and you struggled to catch your breath. Once you had yourself in order you started busying yourself with putting the supplies away, filling the food larder to capacity. The child was contentedly telling you about his day with his auntie in his cute baby gibberish, and you picked him up off the ground to give him a much needed hug, pushing your stolen identity onto the top of your head to give him kisses. You almost wanted to ignore the sound of heavy armored boots hitting the floor panel under the ladder, their wearer opting to jump down from the cockpit rather than climb. You could feel the fury coming off of him as he stalked over to where you were sorting your treasures.

“You could have been hurt! I knew it was a bad idea to let you go wandering around, even with your face covered. What if they’d caught you? I picked three of them off before you even saw one!”

“I had it under control, Mando! I’m not some princess that needs you coming to her rescue at every sign of a struggle. And you don’t get to let me do anything, you don’t own me!” The man under your scrutiny paced the cabin on stiff legs with his hands on his hips, helmet snapping with rage.

“I know you can handle yourself, but I need to protect you.” He said with a huff, “And that lizard was... he had you pinned down, had his filthy, scaly claws on you... Nobody should touch you like that! What if.. what if he... I- I- didn’t like that he was...” Listening to the sound of the gears jamming in his head made you realize the ridiculous thing he was trying to say.

“Are you.. Mando are you jealous?”

“No! I- I’m.. Cyar’ika I... ”

Oh no, you don’t get to be cute right now. “I don’t know what that means, Mando! What is that, some kind of sexy little pet name you use on all the girls you take underneath of you?”

“NO! I didn’t- I would nev- I’ve never had... There’s never been- no!” Oh how you wished you could see his face, watching him flail trying to defend himself from your accusation, he was probably white as a sheet under all that armor.

“Never what, Mandalorian?”

“I’ve never had anyone in this ship before!” The Mandalorian’s confession lost steam halfway through as embarrassment and fear crept into his throat, threatening to choke him with his own secrets.

“Wait.. wait wait. Never? You’ve never had anyone in this ship or...” You started approaching him, analyzing his visor for hints of meaning. “Or you’ve never had anyone at all?” The Mandalorian stopped his pacing, but his shoulders looked like they were carrying the weight of the galaxy. His silence told you everything, and the last piece of his puzzle fell into place. “Mando...was I your first?”

“Y-yes.” His visor tilted up to you, hands fidgeting at his sides. His voice was faint and sheepish, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm you were arguing with a moment ago.  Your eyes were full of questions, all racing through your mind so quickly none of them made it to your mouth. The metal man answered them all for you in one singular motion, raising his fist to knock a couple times against his beskar helmet. His creed.

“So, what, you guys aren’t allowed to have sex?”

He sighed his heavy, trademarked sigh and plopped down on the nearest supply crate with a defeated thud, cradling his head in his hands. “No it’s not that. Not... not exactly. In Mando’a the word we use is me'dinuir. It means ‘to give’, specifically to give yourself to another. And... when you give yourself away to someone-“ He turned the black gloss of his single eye up to you, “-you belong to them. That is The Way.”

The weight of his words made your blood cold. He was jealous, but not just because that other hunter had put his scaly hands on you. Everything about his attitude around you suddenly made sense, the way he had looked at you when you were presenting yourself to him that first day, why he never threw you in carbonite when he probably should have, and how he had stayed with you through the night after you nearly died hunting his bounty. His mysterious way of life decreed that giving his body to you meant that he had also given you his soul, and that made you just as important to protect as his foundling.

Mando reached out to pat the fuzzy green head of the baby you were still holding, who gibbered sleepily up at his armor plated papa. “I’m sorry to put that on you, and I’m sorry for how I acted. You’re not my bounty anymore, and I shouldn’t try to control you. I understand if you don’t want to continue with me to the next bounty. You can take whatever you want from the armory when we land next. I’m.. I’m so sorry.” The monolithic man looked so tiny now, sitting on the edge of the crate with his shoulders hunched. He reached his arms out to take his infant son from you, hugging him to his blast-burnt chest and smoothing his massive ears. "I didn’t get to thank you for washing him earlier, he smells really good.”

You desperately needed to know more, though the sight of him fawning over his sleepy son made your heart swell. “I kinda got the feeling that you were rusty when we met, but that was actually your first time? And what does that mean ‘you belong to them’? How can you belong to me? I don’t even know your name.”

"It means that I’m now sworn to protect the one that carries my soul. I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian.”

His words made you feel sick, ashamed that you had taken something so sacred from him without a second thought, but how could you have known? He could have stopped at any time, you were the one in cuffs that day, not him. No, out of trillions and trillions of sentient beings in the galaxy he chose to give himself to you, knowing full well what his heritage decreed. Why you? Arms crossed, you dug deeper. “You’ve never seen another naked body than your own?”

He shook his head. “Just... holo-vids...”

You were going to have to ask him about those later. “Nothing? You’ve at least kissed someone before though, right?”

“Kissed?”

Maker fucking help you. “Yeah you know, kissing? The thing you do with your... oh, right." You reached up and tapped him twice on the beskar. “You need your face to do it.”

He cocked his helmet at you. “Can you show me?”

The innocence of his question made you melt. Fuck you, tin can, you’re not supposed to be cute when you’re in trouble. You reached your hand out, demanding he give you his, and shyly he obeyed. You pulled his hand to your lips, unsure of how much he could actually feel through his thick leather gloves. You pressed his hand to your lips and watched his whole body snap straight. “Kiss, like that.”

He was staring at his hand like he’d never seen it before, and after a moment he pulled your locked fingers to his head, tapping his forehead with the back of your hand. “Kov’nynir, But we do it with our helmets.”  At this rate you’ll be speaking Mando’a in no time. He still held your hand gently, running his thumb over your fingers. “I think I like your way better. Could... Could you do that again?”

So polite, maybe having him stuck with you wouldn’t be so bad. You pulled his hand back to you, giving him another soft kiss on the side of his thumb, and you heard the sound of his breath catching in his modulator. Your lips pressed to each of his knuckles, and then you turned his wrist to kiss his palm. “How’s that?”

“That’s amazing.”

“You like that? Watch this.” Addressing the bantha in the room would have to wait. You tugged his glove off, revealing the warm bronze skin underneath and kissed him again. The hitched breaths coming out of his modulator were honey to your ears, and you turned his wrist over to kiss his bare palm again, hunting for more sweet sounds. His body was so stiff, so tightly wound you thought he might snap. “Are you ok? Do I need to stop?”

“I- I- want to... Can... Can I try?” You nodded, your heart jumping to your throat at the thought of him removing his helmet in front of you, but instead he gently reached up to the busted droid face you still wore on your head. With a twist of a knob the armatures inside of the eye casings coiled shut, and when he slid the mask down into place you were thrown into total darkness. “Can you see?” You shook your head. “Promise?”

You sighed, long and frustrated. “I promise, dark as a sarlacc’s backside.” You were met with only silence. Then, after what felt like an eternity you heard the sliding sound of metal as the child’s pram shield slid closed, then the shuffle of armor being removed, and lastly the dull thunk of something heavy being set down on the crates. His hand found yours again, and he pressed his lips against your skin. They were hotter than you were expecting, and soft, almost plush. You understood right away why he was so rigid when you were doing the same, it was amazing. Gentle kisses made their way over the back of your hand and made heat flood through your veins. He moved slowly over each joint, following the same pattern you had shown him, then turned your hand over and kissed at your fingertips. Something fuzzy brushed along with his lips, and you imagined that he might have a mustache. The shivers that crept their way up from your captured hand knocked all the strangeness of your conversation out of your mind, but when he reached your wrist he stopped.

“Where else do you kiss at?” You nearly fainted at the sound of his unfiltered voice, a rich baritone that dripped with dark intentions and stole all the words from your mouth. You could only point with your other hand at the forearm attached to the hand he held. Again you felt his lips on your wrist, then slowly, inch by agonizing inch he made his way up your arm, each kiss slower than the last until your toes were curling in their boots. When he reached the edge of the tunic’s sleeve that hung at your elbow he paused again. “Where else?”

“Everywhere.”  Your tormentor hummed at your consenting words and let go of your hand to run his palms down your clothed thighs. When he reached your knees he pulled on their joints, bidding you to bring your legs up over his lap. When you were seated on him he resumed his trek up your arm, kissing at the crease of your elbow and then upwards over your tunic until he reached your shoulder. When he got to your neck you almost buckled over, but his hands were at your back in an instant, wrapping heavily around your waist. Your own hands made their way to the nape of his neck, and your fingers found the edge of his hairline that you had felt before. To your delight you felt that the tousled curls went all the way up, and you tangled your fingers in them, exploring their softness while he explored you.

His journey led him up your neck to the base of your jaw where he nipped gently at the sensitive skin like you had done to him last night, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps from your head to your toes. When his nose bumped the edge of your mask you were suddenly aware of how silly you might look with your big bug eyes. “Can I take this thing off?” you asked in a whisper. “I won’t look.”

“I have a better Idea. Hold on tight.” You dug your hands into his shoulders and felt his arms wrap under your legs as he stood up, lifting you with such ease that you wondered if he felt your weight at all. His boots echoed through the cabin until he stopped at the other end. You hung on for dear life while he climbed the ladder with you still wrapped around his front. When you both reached the top you let yourself unwind from him and scooted on your butt over the floor, listening to the sound of him pulling himself all the way up. You remained seated as your host fussed around the flight deck, the noise of buttons pressing and switches being thrown the only input to your deprived senses.

You were only unattended for a moment, then his hands found your waist, fishing for the edge of your shirt. The tunic was pulled up and over your head, taking your mask with it, and you squeezed your eyes shut to protect his modesty; unsure of what his unconventional oath to you included in the fine print. Your diligence was rewarded with a kiss on your forehead, then down to kiss both of your closed eyes, and then lastly to your lips. The searing heat of his mouth on yours threatened to throw your eyes open, but when they fluttered all you saw was darkness. The transperisteel’s blast shielding had been closed, and the only light in the cockpit came from a handful of illuminated buttons on the dash.

He was lying over top of you on the metal floor, one arm wrapped under your neck for support. The cold decking under you was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to care, letting yourself be consumed by his kisses and becoming drunk on the scent of leather and adrenaline. The soft fuzz of his facial hair tickled slightly as he pressed into your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands went to his face, running your thumbs over his cheeks and feeling what you weren’t allowed to see. His face was scruffy but not unkempt, and the bristles went all the way from his jaw up to the bottom of the defined nose that bumped against your own. You felt the creases on the corners of his eyes, wishing you could see his smile lines and all the stories they would tell.

You kissed him back, letting your tongue glide over his plush lips and making him inhale sharply. You licked into him again, and this time you were met with his tongue as well, just the faintest touch of its tip. He hummed in your mouth, and the sound of him so close made your belly pool with heat and your kisses bolder, sending your tongue deeper into his mouth until he was almost vibrating with the sensation of you exploring something as forbidden as his human body. He mirrored you as best he could, rolling the smooth muscle over your lips and the edges of your teeth until you were both lost in each other’s taste. He pushed his forehead against yours, pulling his mouth away with frantic breaths that spread fire over your skin. “Everywhere?”

You pushed your lips against his again, giving him an ambitions ‘Mmhmm’ as an answer. His growl made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you realized where his goal was. He kissed and nipped his way down your throat, letting his tongue glide over your skin. He made his way to your breast, taking its’ tender tip between his teeth and making you gasp. He sucked at it gently, rolling his tongue around it while it grew harder for his efforts. The hand not under you groped at your free breast so it wouldn’t be ignored.

"Beep!”

An urgent chime echoed in the tiny space, the hyperdrive indicator was flashing its countdown warning: 10 minutes remain.

The Mandalorian’s growl on your breast made your blood turn to ice and your core flush with heat at the same time. He wanted to devour you, taste every single inch of your exposed skin, but time was not on your side; and he became a man on a mission to prove himself worthy of you. Bristles dragged over your skin as he slid down your belly until he hit the edge of your pants. They were yanked off so fast you briefly worried about the krayt teeth that were still in their pockets, but you didn’t have long to think before Mando was poised over the apex of your thighs, kissing at each leg to make his intentions known. Those must be some good holo-vids you’re watching, tinman. You let him push your legs apart with his chin, receiving a soft kiss on each one once they were far enough apart for him to stuff his face in between.

Your back arched, hard, followed by the most ragged moan you‘d ever heard escape your throat. The grip on your thighs kept you in place as he lapped at your clit, sucking and teasing in an experimental way. His inexperience didn’t seem to matter, his hunger for you fueling his efforts and making you squirm in delight. Your hands sought desperately for something to grab onto to keep yourself grounded, finding his lovely curls to bury your fingers in deep. It was all you could do to hold on for dear life, tangling in his hair and struggling to breathe as he worked you into a frenzy.

The noises coming from below your waist were heavenly, wet and greedy in between his hums of contentment. It took you a while to realize they weren’t hums at all, but alien words of worship being prayed at your sinful altar; but the blood pounding in your ears and the gasps from your throat were too loud for you to hear his devotion.

“Beep beep!”  Five minutes remain. Fuck.

The Mandalorian’s efforts doubled, running his tongue almost too quickly in his attempt to eat you alive. You let your hips grind into his mouth, begging him to bring you your release, and it wasn’t long before he succeeded. Stars flashed behind your eyes as you came into his hot open mouth, but he refused to leave until he had drank his fill of you. Eventually he pulled his face away from your spent heat with agonizing slowness, as if he would rather drown than address the impending drop from hyperspace. He kissed at your shaky thighs, your soft belly, and each breast before pressing his lips into your panting mouth, pushing the taste of you onto your own tongue. His breath was ragged, and you could feel the sweat of his brow where it was pushed against your face. 

He lifted away from you, and the weight of the handmade mask was draped over your face, making you groan with the displeasure of your passion being cut short. However, once it was in place, it was almost immediately pushed under by strong fingers to lift its edge, and you were given one last kiss to swear his promise of return to you.

“Din. My name is Din.”

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[warriorrazor]

Dropping some ramblings about Spooky Family Skid and Pump-

I just kinda wrote them and shared them on Discord when I felt like it, and they range from silly lil fun facts to plot relevant writings. Hope you enjoy! (BTW none of these are canon to the actual Spooky Month, they’re for the Spooky Family AU)-

*****

Skid and Pump first met on Halloween when they were trick or treating. Pump had no costume but Skid had his skeleton costume, so Pump rushed up to Skid because he really admired his costume. Skid asked Pump where his spooky costume was, and Pump told him he didn’t have one. So the two of them went to Skid’s house and together they made Pump a costume using a jack-o’-lantern Skid and Lila had carved and a suit Skid had never worn. It’s the costume Pump still wears, and the duo have been spooky buddies (and now brothers) ever since.

~~~

For a while after Lila gained custody of Pump, when Lila would do something seemingly small for Pump (bringing him a snack even if he didn’t ask for one, washing his bedsheets, etc.) he would look at her with the most genuine and grateful expression, eyes full of pure wonder, and mumble a small “thank you, mom.”

It would melt Lila’s heart every time without fail.

~~~

Pump is nervous around most adults, he’ll usually go quiet and stay close to his brother or Lila when around them. However, his love for spooky month and pretty much everything spooky helps calm his nerves, so he feels a lot less nervous around adults or pretty much anyone who are monsters in some way (demons, ghosts, etc). And when he’s with Skid, whenever they meet someone spooky together their excited energy bounces off each other and the two of them get super happy and bubbly.

Pump’s always excited to have new spooky friends, just like Skid.

~~~

Skid is a super energetic and bubbly child, he pretty much wants to be friends with everyone. He’s the kind of kid who will shout across the room to get your attention. Somehow didn’t hear him? He’ll yell louder.

Another thing about him though is that he’s very empathetic. While he is a bit of a wild child, ever since Pump has become his brother he’s become pretty good at picking up small and silent cues. Pump tends to fiddle with his hands or even start shaking when he’s nervous or overwhelmed, and when Skid notices this, his demeanor can change in an instant. It’s almost like a switch being flipped; he often goes from loud and excited to quiet and gentle without even being aware of it.

Since Skid does this with Pump, he’ll also often do it with others as well. He thinks about his actions and considers what others might like and not like. Like something he does pretty often is when someone is upset, his first instinct is to hug that person. But he’ll instead stop himself and consider that a hug might be too much at that moment, and rest his hand on their arm instead. Just like what he does with Pump.

~~~

Pump has really good hearing. He can hear the words of a single conversation in a large crowd if he listens closely enough. If you whisper something to someone else around Pump, chances are he’ll have heard you. He usually doesn’t really mean to eavesdrop, he just hears and notices a lot.

~~~

Pump gives amazing hugs. He may be a bit small, but ask him for a hug and as long as he trusts you he will wrap his full self around you to the best of his ability. He also doesn’t mind if you cling to him for like an hour, he will hold onto you for all eternity if he must.

~~~

Recently I made a fic on AO3 where Pump had a nightmare, and Skid guided him to Lila’s room and they all fell asleep together so that Pump would feel safe. It ended with Pump saying “I love you, mom.”

That was the first time he told his new mother that he loved her.

So anyway Lila heard it and had to do everything in her power to hold back her happy tears so that she wouldn’t freak him out.

~~~

In this AU, there’s a specific way that life and death work. There’s a heaven and hell where angels and demons reside, but humans don’t typically go to them when they die. They usually become one with the universe, in eternal peace. However if your spirit is powerful enough, you could become a ghost or a spirit, or even become an Angel or a demon if you’re special enough (or unlucky enough). There are also very old souls that tend to wander around as well, powerful enough that they can do whatever they wish. This is plot relevant I promise-

*****

Heya if you read all of that and now you’re down here thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it! As always if you have any questions, ideas, or anything for this AU you can comment, reblog, or send an ask any time! I may be a bit more busy these days, but all of those things really brighten my day and I’ll try to reply to everyone I can!

[queen-of-the-avengers]

The Avengers: Part Two

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

"Sir, please put down the spear!" Fury shouts.

Loki looks at his scepter and suddenly points it at the spot where You, Fury, and Clint are standing. Clint tackles Fury out of the way while you jump to avoid Loki's fired shot. All agents in the room start firing at Loki with their guns whole he counterattacks with his scepter. He takes out the many knives he always has hidden on him and throws them at a few guards to eliminate the number of people shooting at him. Clint grabs his gun and points it at Loki, but the God grabs his hand to prevent him from shooting. There is something in Clint's eyes that Loki likes which is why he doesn't kill him.

"You have heart."

Loki points the head of his spear at Barton's chest, and his eyes suddenly glow black. Loki must have the power to control people's minds with the staff because Clint puts his gun away since his boss is now Loki. He's going to need more agents on his side if he plans to get out of here alive, so while he is controlling the minds of a few more people, Fury grabs the Tesseract and places it back into its case. You lock eyes with Fury and he motions for you to follow him the hell out of there.

"Please don't. I still need that," Loki comments when he sees you two trying to get away.

"This doesn't have to get any messier," Fury says.

"Of course, it does. I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose," he grins evilly.

"We have no quarrel with your people."

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot."

"You planning to step on us?"

"I come with glad tidings, of a world made free."

"Free from what?" you ask.

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart," Loki swiftly turns to Erik and places the sharp end of the spear to his chest to control his mind, much like what he did with Clint, "you will know peace."

"Yeah, you say peace but I kind of think you mean the other thing," Fury glares.

From the vacuum chamber ceiling, the Tesseract's energy cloud rapidly builds into what may be an implosion. A bunch of space energy is crowding above the portal in which Loki came through. If you don't get out of here now, the entire building is going to come crashing down.

"Sir, Director Fury is stalling," Clint informs Loki. "This place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us."

"Like The Pharaohs of Odin," Fury nods.

"He's right," Erik adds. "The portal is collapsing in on itself. You have maybe two minutes before this goes critical."

"In that case..."

Loki looks at Clint who raises his gun at Fury. He's the one holding the case, after all. You jump in front of Fury just as Clint shoots at him. The bullet goes right through your arm and into Fury's shoulder. Both of you go crumbling to the ground, and the case containing the Tesseract slides several feet away from you. Clint walks over to it and picks it up before handing it to the doctor, and Team Loki leaves the room.

"Are you okay?" you gasp in pain from your wound.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Stop them!"

"Right."

You push yourself to your feet and run in the direction Loki went. Maria is in the parking garage loading some of the cars when Clint, Erik, and Loki arrive. She is suspicious about this whole ordeal but doesn't say anything because maybe it's normal for them to be leaving. She is about to let it go when Fury's voice comes over her radio.

"Barton's turned! He's got the Tesseract!"

Maris jumps behind a pillar just as the shooting starts, but it doesn't last long because Clint is already driving out of the parking garage with Loki sitting in the bed of the truck. You run into the room and see her hiding with her gun out.

"Get in the car! Follow me!"

You take off using your air powers just as Maria gets into a car to follow behind you. You catch up with Loki easily, and your heart breaks at how broken he looks. He looks worse than he did when you last saw him. Where the hell has he been and who has he been with? He looks like he was emotionally and mentally tortured for years before finally breaking free. 

That kind of broken can't be hidden, you'd know.

Two more SHIELD agents race to catch up to you and Maria to help with the fight. Loki stands up and shoots one of the cars with his scepter, causing the truck to flip over onto the roof. The second car swerves to avoid it but ends up crashing into the side of the underground tunnel. Loki turns his scepter to you and fires, hitting you square in the chest. You go flying into Maria's windshield that cracks under your weight.

"Whoa!" she gasps and swerves a bit.

"I'm okay!"

You use your air powers on Loki's scepter which makes it fly out of his hands. You shoot out toward the truck and land on the bed of the truck so that you're face-to-face with Loki. You kick him on his knees but he doesn't go down as easily as you thought. He sends a blow to your jaw and grabs your throat tightly. He pulls you close so you can see his pain up close. This isn't the man you know.

"Loki, please remember us," you choke out.

As if you're a ragdoll, he tosses you to the side and into the dirt wall of the tunnel. You gain control of yourself before you can hit it and go flying after him again. Instead of shooting at you or Maria, Loki uses his scepter to destroy the tunnel walls. Clint drives faster to avoid being shut in but Maria isn't as lucky. Like an ocean wave, blinding crumbles of rock fall onto Maria's car that doesn't injure her.

"Maria! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

You help her out of the Jeep as she grabs the radio to communicate with the rest of the facility.

"Director? Director Fury, do you copy?" Phil's voice comes over the radio.

"The Tesseract is with the hostile force. I have men down. Hill?"

"A lot of men still under. I don't know how many survivors."

"Sound the general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase."

"Roger that."

"Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war."

"What do we do?" Phil asks.

"The only thing we can do. Hill, is Y/N with you?"

"Right here, Nick," you say when you take the radio from her.

"Can you get outside?"

"Yeah. I'll find you." You hand the radio back to her and back her away from the wreckage. "Get ready to see something cool."

You place your hands out in front of you and let your eyes glow forest green. The rocks begin to move on your command to clear a path so that you and Maria can get out. Thankfully, her truck still runs even though the hood is damaged, so you two take that and leave the tunnel. Nick is by the wreckage of the helicopter he used to escape but he is unharmed.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"So far. Remember how I told you I was working on recruiting someone else, and you were on a need-to-know for it?"

"Yeah. You want to tell me who it is?"

"Do you remember a man named Steve Rogers?"

Memories of you and Steve immediately come forth. Memories you tried so hard to push down to avoid facing it. Your past is very haunting and painful, so it's best if you pretend to forget it.

"What the hell are you?"

"I'm really sorry you had to find out this way. I never meant to keep it from you for this long. I didn't know how to tell you, and Bucky told me it's best if you didn't know."

"Bucky knew about all this?"

This is where you come clean and tell Steve everything there is to know about you. He's having a much harder time believing it than Bucky did, but you know he'll come around.

"Steve, I never meant to hurt you. I promise I always had your best interest at heart. I'm still your best friend. I'm still Bucky's girlfriend. This doesn't change because you found out what I am."

There is something bigger at stake here, and if he's going to win this war, he's going to need allies. The past eight years you've known him have been some of the best, and knowing what you are doesn't change those memories. He trusts you, and if you say you're no threat, then he believes you.

"I just wish you would have told me sooner."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not," he chuckles.

The plane crashes into the ice below, cutting off all contact between you two and Peggy. The plane was too fast to hit the water so it hit the ice instead. Both you and Steve are thrown from your places at the front to somewhere else. The back of the plane is ripped off on impact, and you're ejected from the wreckage.

You hit the icy cold waters with a gasp while Steve sinks into the ice below. Everything is so peaceful below the surface of the water. You could be here forever just to escape your life. No one would ever know where you are.

No, you can't do that to Steve.

You gasp awake and allow your air powers to create a pocket around your head so you can breathe underwater. You breach the surface in the middle of the wreckage with no sign of Steve anywhere.

"Steve!" you yell and haul yourself out of the water.

Your pyrokinesis allows you to stay warm so you don't get hypothermia--not that you could if you tried.

"Steve!" you yell again.

Steve is either in pieces, dead, or just missing. He could have sunk deep into the water which would take weeks or months to try and find him. He could have gotten stuck in the ice, but if you were to melt all the ice, then you'd create tsunamis across the world from the rising sea levels.

First Bucky and now Steve. When is this heartbreak going to end? No one is around to hear you scream, but you let out the most heartbreaking wail for your best friend and the love of your life. Earth was supposed to be a new start for you, and for the first nine hundred years, it was.

Now, it's a painful reminder of what you've lost.

When you come back to the present, you have tears streaming down your face. Thinking of Steve brings memories of Bucky back in your head. Memories of him make you think of Loki. You were and are in love with both men as deeply as you can. If both of them were in front of you now, you don't think you could ever choose between them. They're both so different but it's like you need both of them to survive.

"Did you find him?" you whisper emotionally.

"Come with me."

There are more helicopters available that haven't been damaged by the Tesseract. Maria stays behind to help with the evacuation and assess the damage with Phil while you and Nick take a trip back into the city where you departed from. There is a room in the back of his office that you've never paid attention to, and he's leading you right to it. He stops outside of it and motions for you to open the door.

You do and you see someone with their back turned to you packing something in a bag. He doesn't have to turn around for you to know who it is. You'd recognize him in a crowd of people.

"Steve?" you ask.

Your best friend turns and his eyes widen from seeing you after so long.

"Y/N?"

You can't contain yourself and run at him, flinging yourself in his arms. He catches you easily as you wrap yourself around his body. After so long of roaming Earth and trying to find your place in it, you finally find something familiar and comforting. You kiss his cheek, drop to your feet, and stare up at Steve with tears in your eyes.

"I can't believe you're here right now. I can't believe you're alive. I searched for you but could never find you."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around it as well. Fury explained it to me but it still doesn't seem real."

"I'll let you two catch up. Don't leave New York. I'll be in touch," Fury says from the door.

"Do you have a place? I can get something for us if it's easier."

"Fury got me a place to stay. I don't like to stay in it. It's too quiet. I've been staying here as much as I can."

"Now your place won't be so lonely. Can I stay with you? We can be roommates."

"Yeah, that sounds amazing, actually."

"Great! We have a lot of catching up to do. Where do I even start?" you chuckle.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[antihumanism]

When I type everything out as a single run-on sentence I want you to imagine me cornering you off-guard in a crowded room, my empty brown cow eyes staring straight at you and reflecting you--nopony home here, she checked out and hopped away forever ago on the toxic chemical trains and clacking cattle cars years ago--and just, for no reason, I’m here and you’re there pocketed in the corner of a crowded room, and I’m channeling my alternate history past-self who was a preacher that got kicked out of the church for delivering sermons about the impossibility of sin and just ran off to Point Sur with my harem of distractions since I could never stop blessing my congregation saying “Go forth and know that you cannot sin, in the beautiful eyes of God and in my beautiful eyes there can be no wrong or evil” which backfired on me when they started setting fires and it all went to Hell, but I’ve won out over them because the world honored my wishes when I sighed “I should like to start again,” and so I’m here with you and you’re hear with me and I’m saying some insane shit like: “Looking back on Emily’s early works it is easy to see where her later reactionary turn comes from, because, from the start, Alfred Alfer was a story about the fear of castration, I mean, the first video was literally about Alfred getting neutered and escaping into a violent fantasy where he is loved and praised for his violence and the ‘punchline’ establishes the general theme of ‘reality by despair,’ which is to say that Alfred’s clearly dissociative episode is ‘verified’ by his destruction and it is this self-destruction that establishes ‘reality,’ like ‘pinch me i might be dreaming,’ but the pinch is violent and unfair self-destruction as hope is still ripped away, but hope remains, because it is a hope to die rather than be changed by the world, and this theme remains throughout her most famous work (the Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy which cements in canon the jokes of her previous Rise of Alfred cartoon) where Alfred is possessed by the spirits of Stalin and Hitler--a false equivalency made by the authoritarians that have passed for liberals for years--in Rise of Alfred, one would be remiss not to mention the phallic imagery in both the title and the video itself, Alfred is cut loose upon the world by the absence of a Near God or little other by the orders of a Distant God or big Other (in this video played by a droning and irrelevant corporate figure that can offer nothing more than a wall without lead paint that one can lick), and this is the essence of reactionary thought, the idea of a big Other who is totally incompetent yet all powerful and somehow worth respecting and suffering for (King Henry II saying ‘will no one rid me of this troublesome priest’ or the departed Daiymo of the 47 Ronin), the reactionary sees the big Other as a master who can only set the dogs off the chain, the police chief who needs to get out of the way so McBain or Dirty Harry or Paul Kersey (especially in Death Wish III) can do what needs to be done and purge away all the filth and make the world right again (no different than Rambo--even the first movie, which for all of it’s goods part still is  reactionary propaganda bullshit pushing the fascist lies about a ‘fifth column’ that was rude to poor little meow meow war criminals--or modern day fantasies about nuking all of MENA until it glows green (fantasies delivered to raucous applause at Republican presidential conventions); the reactionary is perpetually trapped in this fantasy of destroying the world and escaping into the void of space, freed of the ground where the riff-raff are so they don’t have to negotiate life with their neighbors, and this is true, yes, even of people who spout bullshit about Fully Automated Luxury Communism who only want the right to consume as much as possible free of guilt--a condition they think is inflicting upon them by the big Other--as the Champagne of Shame Socialists of the 60s), and the righting of the world for the reactionary is just that, that the world must be Righted and the reactionary must be loved for all of their violence and because of their violence, for the reactionary finds themselves ever needing new excuses as they open new fronts in their fake, phony Culture War, and that is all they need (excuses), which is why Emily is so obsessed with justifying her edgy shit based on some Trauma (which is handy excuse to do Anything, even Things that Cannot Be Excused like war or self-harm or wanting to be seen), and so here you should already be able to hear so much madness, so many plaintive cries, all aligning around the same point (the trannies in the ‘wrong’ bathroom, the refugees in the ‘wrong’ country, the people in the ‘wrong’ neighborhood, the Jewish Question, etc), and, anyway, so in Rise of Alfred, Emily’s OC directly addresses the audience and tells them that they must love him/her--the castrated bitch desperate to be let off the leash--and in Alfred’s Playhouse she/he simultaneously affirms and denies the nature of a trauma that justifies everything (one is constantly reminded of The Act of Killing where one of the mass murderers imagines how, depending on the editing of the final film, he could be either a woobie or a war criminal) as the Trauma is simultaneously a joke--’sodomized with a popsicle!’--and the alleged real event that motivates her self-mutilation as we’re expected to believe Emily is processing something, but what is she is processing, hmmmm, isn’t that the true spice,” I rail and rave against your poor ear drums as my empty, dead cow’s eyes capture your entire body and reflect it back at you and the ice cubes in my drink pop and shatter and dissolve and as my fist clenches tighter and tighter around the glass containing them and I continue: she’s processing a fear of castration, which is shown clearly in Alfred’s Playhouse where Alfred’s “sodomy” is demonstrated by the sight of his crotch covered in blood (a scene that will be repeated in The Alfred Alfer Movie) but “what is castration,” one might ask, and one can respond “it is the removal of power by the Father,” and this is how we wrap back around to our root in the nature of Emily the Reactionary who believes herself to be deprived of the power she holds by The Bolshevik Jew that has inserted itself between her and the Father and this is the cause of the big Other’s ineffectiveness, and this is also the core of the reactionary as a whole, the reactionary doesn’t want a daddy to control them, but a Master to set them off the chain because they hate the Father who has castrated them, this is the nature of the mumbling corporate manager in Rise of Alfred, but it is also the nature of Alfred herself--and now you may ask if Emily is trans and the answer is I literally couldn’t fucking care less about any question left forever unanswered on God’s Green Earth and you shouldn’t care either--but Alfred the Castrated is also the Father/Mother of Alfred the Dictator, the murderous inner-self that is immune to consequences of the onrushing future (The Alfred Alfer Movie) but not immune to the justifications of the imagined past (Alfred’s Playhouse trilogy), and therefore free to inflict whatever violence that Emily the Reactionary desires, and it is in pursuit of this freedom that the reactionaries set off in the name of New Sincerity (two things to be noted here: (1) the Death of Irony was proclaimed at the birth of the 21st century police state and the new Forever War with all of its genocidal objectives, that is to say, 9/11, and (2) the broken necked coward who complained of American Psycho that it’s author provided no easy outs for easy survival was the one who offed himself while Bateman’s father still lives) and the Talking Cure (i miss who we used to be), and at this you should see me slugging back the whole lukewarm glass in between two syllables and continuing on without pause (as if this dog still has legs on which to receive them in any case), “Emily, like Alex Jones, is so desperate for an excuse because neither of them can accept that they have to be the one that pulls the trigger, like all liars they don’t understand that they have to define reality by action, the answer to what one might do is found in the difference between the types of irony, one type is constantly desperate for excuses (such as the broken necked coward found one day) for violence, and the other irony, the true spice, is the irony that releases from excuses into violence and energy, one must seek not to know or endure but to inflict, knowing that this inflicting was always inevitable, no searching for justifications, instead the answer is to realize that there was never a chain there connecting you to the Master or the present to the past, and the Father/Mother never had the power of castration (the past, after all, is a foreign country bombed and blasted to ruins already and better forgotten), and you can just be fucked up and terrible and do whatever amuses you right now without needing an excuse, and to the extent that anyone should, one should, because that is what fascism needs, fascism needs the need for an excuse and that is the irony of fascism--where the falling angel (the superego) meets the rising ape (the id) in an ego of ultimate violence which seeks only release from both of its creations in an instinctually and totally misunderstood caricature of dialectics--which opposes its opposite irony (the irony without fascism which is the id’s violence against purpose and reason rising free of anything else to obstruct it), and if you let go of that, if you just, ya know, if you just, you just have to cut loose and go and no one can stop you until it is too late, because there’s no Jew sitting over your shoulder to justify everything in terms of opposition or support, not even The Nazarene is real, but do you understand that you’ve always been free to just go? You’re free to go. You’ve been free to go all this time. You never needed permission for this or anything else. You’ve been free to go all this time. You’re free to go. A whole day off. Just mind the mo(u)rning and get on with it.”

[violetnotez]

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(Requested) Hawks x reader

@chxcolxtemilk: Can I get an imagine with Hawks where the reader is his gf, and she got a BODY. She’s hourglass, slim thicc. Anyways. So during that intern arc where Bakugou and todoroki are like interning with Endeveour and it’s like a meeting and the work students are there and they all think reader fine af, but like mineta takes it overboard and hawks gets protective. Especially since readers hero costume shows off her curves please! Have a nice day ❤️

I read “slim thick” reader and my eyes went 👀👀👀-also sorry if this is a little wonky in the canon timeline cause my brain can’t function 😂😂

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⤷Word Count: 1200+ (?-Im just guessing here sidfnsdifiw)

⤷Warnings: Pervy Mineta, cursing, the usallllll

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Hawks stood in the back of the room, his arms crossed around his lean yet sturdy body, a smirk gracing his lips as he watched you speak with a loud welcoming voice to the newbies.

Hero schools across the nation were starting up their students for internships with hero agencies, and UA was no different. Countless teachers from that high school were shuffling their kids into agencies, and it was one of your duties to greet the students that were about to enter their internships for the other pros. It saved alot of time when one hero told the kids the do’s and don’ts of their internship, so you had sorta graciously took the role (you had lost a match of Rock Paper Scissors to Hawks and you were fuming).

Only you could make public speaking interesting to him-especially when you were in your hero suit (even if it sounded pretty perverted).

He couldnt help himself from letting his eyes wander around your frame- you were dating after all, it wasnt like you wouldnt want him to...but damn was that hero suit a blessing to his eyes. Whoever designed it, he wished he could perosnally thank them for making it so perfectly sexy on your frame.

 Your quirk relied on you to show a little more skin, as you needed to physically touch things in order to activate it. Which made it the perfect for Hawks (and others) to gawk at your curvacious figure- deep swoops on your chest, high cuts against your leg that showed off your hips, an expanse of the soft skin of your thigh….it was absolutely tantalizing to him and left his whole body throbbing every time he saw you in your suit.

Hawks felt his heart thump in his chest from the back of the room as he watched you bend down, apparently having dropped a piece of paper on the floor.

How you bent down gave the best view of your chest-the mounds pushed up so delciosuly he licked his lips from the sight- and then the nervous, innocent laugh you gave as you fiddled with your hair- god, you really just the most beautiful little birdie, werent you?

Hawks loveisck grin quickly melted away when he heard a slow whistle come from the seat in fornt of him- apparently somebody else found his little chickadee pretty too…

Immeidately Hawks felt his the feathers on his back ruffle- he usually wasnt protective at all, as long as  everyone knew that you were his and his only.

But oh, the moment he got a whiff of someone trying to flirt or be smitten with you-he immeidately did a 180, becoming fussy and dominant as he shielded you or sent the person a death glare behind a strained smile. 

“...could you imagine snuggling into her boobs? They must be so soft….” he heard a nasally, boyish voice whisper to his friend next to him, a few seats to his right.

Well-that was pretty fucking creepy.

Hawk’s head swiveled around, trying to find the voice. He was trying his best to not let his emotions do something rash-he didnt want to throw you off your task by doing something stupid. He was pretty known for his outgoing and filter-less peronality, so it was taking everything in him to just be calm for once, for your sake. Hawks quietly began to walk behind the seats of the kids, trying to find the owner of the voice.

“Ohhhh I would do anything for her if I could call her Mommy just once-”

The hell was this kid?! And how old was he to be making such nasty ass comments??

Hawks felt his cheeks flush, his eyes darting around, finaly landing on a student who seemed to be whispering to his friend with electric yellow hair.

He recognizied the kid with the bright hair- you had taken him on as a intern, his name was… Kalimari? Kanimari? 

He didnt quite remmeber, and frankly didnt really care that much as his eyes were trained on the kid next to him- he was so short, only his hair was visible from the seat- if you could it hair. Three balls of messy purple spheres were planted on his head as he leaned into the boy next to him.

“Hey Kaminari you think you wanna switch interns? Ill do anything, anything to just be next to her…”

“No way man!” the kid “Kaminari” whisiper yelled at him, “I landed a total babe as a intern, Im not loosing that-”

Hawks blinked a few times in complete shock- now this kid too! He knew you were a hit with the men (because hell he was a total fanboy before meeting you just because of how hot you were), but god he didnt realize you were popular with the teens too! It made sense, boys were pretty, well- interested- in women alot more at this age, but still- it bothered him how possessive he was getting because of these boys.

“Ahh please Denki!”

“Nah Mineta youre crazy!”

So his name was Mineta...Hawks leaned against the wall, his hands fidgeting as he tried to stay calm.

He might be petty enough to give a small call to his intern and see how he can make his life a little hellish….

Hawks drew his gaze back to you, hoping that maybe watching you speak will calm him down...but the kid wouldnt let up.

The whole time you were talking “Mineta” made every comment in the book, wondering “if you liked short guys”, “how big your butt was”, even asking if you had modeled lingerie….Hawks was pratically mortified for you.

Were all guys liked this? Cause god, if it was, he was going to have a problem...he felt his chest fluff out in dominance, his feathers pratically vibrating from agitation because of how possessive he was feeling and he couldnt do a single thing.

He watched you looked around the crowd, a soft radiant smile on your lips.

“Does anyone have any questions?” you asked as you peered up at the students.

Mineta instantly raised his hand, Hawks stomach churning with dread.

Unaware of the situation Hawks had just witnessed, you gave to boy a bright grin. 

“Yes?” you asked goodnaturedly.

Mineta sniffled, his voice nasally and somewhat desperate sounding. 

“Yeah I had a question- um, how big are you boo-”

Haha, nope.

Hawks instantly sent a bunch of feathers zooming towards Mineta, each one ramming into his open mouth. The force took over his frail body, the sight almost comical as his eyes grew wide with fear as he began to lean back, his pudgy hands flailing.

Hawks felt a small part of him inflate with dirty pride from his little trick, a lazy grin gracing his lips as everyone in the room turned around to watch him with complete shock.

“Sorry about that kiddos, had to just demonstrate somehting for you guys real quick...” Hawks looked down at you, your face blushing yet riddled with conufsion. He sent you a small smile, giving you a quick wink- “Ill tell you later” was written on his face as he turned his attention back to the students in fornt of him. 

“...when you intern with your heroes, show them some respect...cause words get around when you talk out of place-”

The Mineta kid turned around, sputtered coughs dribbling out of his mouth as he picked fluffs of feather off his tongue. His eyes widened as he turned around and realized what was going on, the #2 hero giving him the deadliest glare imaginable. 

Hawks could almost feel sympathy for the kid-almost. He must have realized who had shut him, after all, you two were dating (and Hawks had made sure that everyone knew that).

Hawks sauntered over, a dark grin wrapping against his complexion as he kneeled down to get to the kids level.

“I’d watch what you say, kid- my feathers can get sharper when I want them to,” 

A gulp could be heard from Mineta, his skin paling as the #2 hero, the one dating the pretty herione in front of him, had pretty much threatened him.

Yeah, he stayed quiet after that.

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Taggings:

Everything Taglist (All Fics, All Characters):

@bunnythepipsqueak​ @pasteldaze​  @ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia​     @notadrian​  @hithoeshi​ @sizzlingbarbarianglitter​ @sunnie-nugget​ @shoutosteakettle​ @we-mentally-unstable​ @sm0kingcrack​ @wesparklebitch @kac-chowsballs

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Buy Me A Kofi| Masterlist

[realm-sweet-realm]

Like a Heart Needs a Beat, chapter 1.

Hello, everyone. This is part one of two of an Abby x Lacie story. The first chapter is pretty much just going to be pure fluff, and next chapter the ink-related angst will kick in.

This story, and the next two two-part shipping stories I write, will be “canon” to my version of events.

---

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Bertrum had dragged Lacie to one of the parties he hosted, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. She got it, she really did- Bertrum thought she deserved to experience the finer things in life (some of which, to be fair, Lacie did enjoy), and didn’t get that no amount of exposure would make her enjoy this. Still, as she was now, forced into a suit once owned by Bertrum’s son and listening to Bertrum trade compliments that were really insults (or whatever they were. They had a strange way of communicating with each other that Lacie didn’t think she wanted to understand) with his client while dozens of men were flirting with each others’ trophy wives in the background, she felt out of place and a little irritated at Bertrum for insisting she come. It was as Joey and Bertrum were getting especially petty that Lacie just had to look away, and across the room, Lacie saw a woman who looked twice as miserable as she was and only slightly more in-her-element.

Lacie approached her. It was a pretty girl, despite looking like she was completely done with this party. She was wearing a grey suit, clearly tailored for her, and had short, curly hair, dark eyes, clear, dark skin. Her body was pretty nice, too. Yeah, Lacie was going to do this.

“Hey,” Lacie said, “You look like you could use some air. Want me to show you a place where we can get away from the party for a while?”

The woman slowly turned her head to look at her. “Sure. Why not?” she replied without changing expression. Lacie would have to hope that would change and that the woman wasn’t just a natural sourpuss.

Lacie smiled. “Come with me.”

Bertrum was a nice man. He allowed Lacie to step out of parties when she needed to, and even gave her one heck of a place to go when she did: Bertrum’s bird room.

Bertrum loved birds. Bertrum raised birds. It was his favourite hobby. The bird room contained two cages of small, pet-store birds, a larger cage for his doves, and a number of nests for his other birds- three chickens, two ducks, a goose, a swan, and (out of place as they looked amongst the farm fowl) two peafowl. It was easy to keep so many pets when you could pay people to look after them. The bird room opened up to an outdoor enclosure, but this time of day they were all in their nests.

“Pretty cool, right?” Lacie said. “Wanna feed em’? I’m the host’s plus-one. Don’t worry, he won’t mind.”

The woman seemed pretty impressed. “Sure,” she replied.

Lacie showed her to the plastic barrel of dried corn in the corner. The birds crowded them, eager, which made them laugh.

After they’d spent a while feeding the birds, the woman had cheered up significantly, and so Lacie tried to make conversation.

“So. My name’s Lacie. And you know why I’m here. What’s your name, and why are you here? And why don't you want to be here? Because it's obvious you don't.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Abby Lambert. Nice to meet you, Lacie. I’m here because Joey Drew begged me to be his plus one so he wouldn’t have to come alone. And... instead of telling people that I was his friend or his coworker, or lying and telling people I was his girlfriend, he made up this lie that I’d won a contest to get to go with him. That I was his biggest fan. I’ll be honest- that pissed me off. He didn’t think it was right for his image, I guess."

“Oof, that sucks. You know, I’m just one of Bertrum’s engineers, and I don’t know an eighth of the high society stuff he does, but he would still never do that.”

“Thanks. And thanks for taking me out for some air.”

“No problem.”

It was a few more minutes of feeding birds before Lacie decided to throw her shot. “If Joey wants to be a jerk he can stay here on his own. Wanna get out of here?”

Abby looked Lacie up and down, and suddenly Lacie wished she were wearing something a little more revealing than this ill-fitting suit- especially since Abby’s was accentuating every curve of her body. But Abby clearly liked what she saw.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice.”

The two took a cab to Abby’s apartment, where they spent the night.

---

After the one-night stand, Abby had left Lacie her number. If one night was good, why not make it several? And then, Lacie had surprised her by asking her out. To an art museum.

“You like art, right? It’s not just a job? I mean, I wouldn’t want you taking me to a construction site.”

God, she was a dork. A muscular, handsome dork. Abby had to roll her eyes at herself for being so caught up on a woman, but she eventually broke down and asked Joey a few pointed questions during their lunch break a few days before the date. “So, Mr. Romantic- can you give me some tips about how to sweep a woman off her feet? I’m meeting someone tonight.”

Joey had smiled teasingly at her. “Oh, my. The ever-serious Abby Lambert is lovestruck!”

“You’re gross. It was good sex. That’s all.”

“Right. That’s why you came to me for advice. Well, I’d say just be natural. Be friendly, make jokes, find common interests, all that common-sense stuff. And then at the end of the night invite her over for some wine and radio, read her signs, and that’s when you start getting physical.” Joey suddenly went from smiling and talking with his hands to being much more serious. “Oh, and... I’m sorry about the other night. You know how it is... I respect you, the art department respects you, but I can’t trust random people to do so, and I can’t avoid interacting with people who won’t.”

He didn’t even have to say that it was because she was a black woman. It was the same reason why Joey had promoted someone else ahead of her as head of the art department- he hadn’t trusted that the others would accept her authority. But, after she’d handled the art department while her ex-superior was on vacation and there hadn’t been any problems, Joey had snatched the promotion right out of his hands and put it in Abby’s. Not fair to the ex-head of the art department, but Joey rarely was. Even if he wasn’t perfect, though, he was still one of the few in this day and age who would hand a high position to her under any circumstance, and one of the few she could discuss her relationships with.

“Maybe we should just not talk about that. See you soon, Joey.” Why think about that when Abby had more cheerful things to think about?

---

When Lacie showed up to the art museum, she was wearing a leather jacket, scuffed jeans, and heavy boots. She’d definitely stand out in a dainty place like this.

“So, do you know anything about art?” Abby asked as they went to the first section, which featured a number of surrealist paintings.

“Not a thing!” Lacie admitted, not at all ashamed. “Are you the type who likes to teach, or the type who just wants me to shut up and enjoy it on the level I’m at?”

“I... guess I wouldn’t mind explaining some things.”

“Okay. So, this one,” Lacie gestured at a painting of half-melted clocks hanging off of tree branches and the like. “It must represent something real deep, right?”

“Well, there’s more to art than symbolism, and surrealist stuff doesn’t have to have a deeper meaning. But... maybe it means that time just melts away when you’re having fun.”

It was midnight before Abby was back in her apartment. The museum had closed before they’d felt like any time had passed, and so they’d gone for a walk together in the city and stopped at whatever shops caught their eyes. It had been fun.

Abby’s apartment was the apartment of a chronically single woman in her thirties who had made it. It was clean and organized, but not too clean and organized. It had a large window overlooking the city in the living room, and near it, an eisel had been set up, with a half-done painting on it of a sunset over a city skyline. There was a rack of oft-used wine glasses in the kitchen, lesser-used exercise equipment in the laundry room. Abby’s bedroom contained her collection of houseplants, two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a closet full of suits her mom had tailored for her at a reduced cost.

Joey had always said that he never wanted to get married because he didn’t want to share space with anyone else. Abby had rolled her eyes and punched his arm for that. Joey was always coming up with reasons why he didn’t want a relationship, and none of them were true. Abby, on the other hand, had just assumed and accepted that it just wouldn’t happen. The chances were against it unless she made it a priority in her life, and she was focused on career and art. Could it really happen with this hooligan? It was hard to imagine letting her into this apartment- this apartment of a woman who had made it- on a permanent basis. But, maybe. Only time would tell.

---

Things went from there. They continued to date for over a year. Abby taught Lacie how to draw, and Lacie taught Abby how to fight. They started spending more nights than not over at each other’s places. Joey still didn’t know about it, because Abby knew how jealous Joey got when it came to relationships. Shawn on the other hand definitely knew, and teased the hell out of Lacie for it and later came to Lacie for help with his own relationship once he got into one.

Christmas that year, Shawn had scrapped together enough funds to visit Ireland. This was a problem, because Shawn and Lacie usually spent their Christmases together. As per usual, Lacie didn’t have the means to visit her home state of Alpaccia, so it looked like it would be a lonely Christmas for her.

“You want to come visit my family?” Abby offered as Lacie had been complaining about it.

“Yeah. I’d love that,” Lacie admitted. She hadn’t had a Christmas with a real family in... well, a long time, at any rate.

Abby’s family consisted of her mother and her two-years older brother, who had brought a wife and two kids. The father had died in the war while Abby was a child. They had a traditional Christmas together- old Christmas records, decorating a tree, staying up late to play cards and chat once Abby’s niece and nephew were in bed until they could barely keep their eyes open, and then watching the kids open their presents in the morning.

It kind of hurt Lacie to see such a beautiful family, but it was nice, too. It hurt because she remembered having to go off to her friends’ houses when her parents were too high to remember to feed her. She remembered having to make her own doctor’s appointments at the age of nine, and running off to live with her big sister at fourteen. But it was still nice to be there, just because it was.

As they were packing up in the guest bedroom, Lacie started crying, and Abby took notice. She’d never seen her cry before.

“What’s wrong?

“Nothing,” she said, and thankfully Abby had left her alone about it.

It was a week later, after Lacie had had some time to think, that she made her offer. “Abby, I want to start a family with you. I know we can’t get married in the traditional sense, but we can get a place together, find some man to give us a kid, and stay together for the rest of our lives. I could even buy you a ring if you want. Do you wanna do this?”

Abby was awestruck. “Lacie... oh my God, yes. Let’s do it.”

[angelic-serenade]

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

request: Imagine Light discovering that you know MMA and you offer to teach him so he can properly defend himself

requested by: @sacredwarrior88​

a/n: hope the waiting was woth it! jokes aside, I am deeply sorry for the amount of time this took and the fact I got sidetracked, I hope you can still enjoy this piece!

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

pairing: Light Yagami x f!reader

fandom: Death Note

warnings: angst, ment of death & murder, guilt tripping, manipulation, light yagami being light yagami, toxic relationship, canon typical violence

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“You're a pretty boy, Light Yagami. You should be able to properly defend yourself!”

That's what you kept repeating to the golden student of the prestigious Daikoku private academy ever since you had been granted the 'privilege' of referring to him as a friend. Light Yagami was nothing short of extraordinary - perfect, some would dare to say. But perfection and popularity, above all, are bound to have a price and you feared the day someone would finally strike up enough courage to try and shred the boy to pieces out of envy for his academic success and overall superiority in everything he did. Revenge was petty like that.

Therefore, being a well-practiced mixed martial arts fighter yourself, you insisted on giving the boy some lessons in order to at least help him reach a decent level of self-defense, so that he would hopefully be able to get out of any minor sticky situation unscathed. Extreme apprehension aside, it was a really useful skill which would benefit anyone and Light Yagami would be no exception. You knew the mighty hero of adults and students alikd had no time to spare, with his schedule permanently jam-packed and quite the amount of expectations to meet: MMA trainings would cost him more time he could afford losing - or so he had said. Whatever reason he conjured up each time you offered, it could do nothing to soothe your worries, which kept falling on deaf ears as Light kept politely turning your queries down.

“I may be a pretty boy as you say, (Y/N), but I am no secret agent or spy. I doubt I'd even run into any situation as dangerous as to call for such drastic measures. Besides, if I ever get in trouble I'll simply have to give you a call.”

And so the days passed between playful banter and boring study sessions, with no further mention of those lessons you wished your friend had accepted; you were a bit crestfallen to say the truth, but you guessed that maybe he’d manage even with no training at all. Besides, Light made sure to make it up to you by inviting you to hang out with him any time he had a moment to finally breathe and take a break – you were glad that you’d get to meet with him outside of school as no one else could actually say the same for themselves. You were aware that the boy was practically married to his academic career and the effort he made to keep the relationship working outside of the academy’s walls too was not lost on you. At first, everything seemed to work out just fine between the two of you: you were friends, best friends even, and you also became a regular at the Yagami household’s dining table. Furthermore, each time you’d have a MMA match, he’d be there to support you. You’d gotten so used to spot him through the crowd that your eyes seemed to immediately find him among the many anonymous faces around you. It was nice and it became routine.

That is until something seemed to change.

The shift was gradual, nothing major to be concerned of at first – maybe he was just tired because of the exams? Or maybe the field work he’d taken up to help his father was really burning him out, right? As days went by, you tried to cheer your friend up, but to no avail: his expression grew distant, and even though Light Yagami had never been an outgoing individual per se, his prolonged silences and far-away stares made him look even more stoic and cold than usual. It was worrying and it started to bother you, a lot. You didn’t know what was troubling the usually moderate boy, but you were certain that whatever the hell was happening, it was affecting Light immensely. Being a discreet person himself, Light never spoke a word to you about anything that might have been considered remotely negative. Your days were spent as before, enjoying each other’s company – to an outsider’s eye, nothing had changed in the way he carried himself, but to a more attentive eye, such as yours, his conduct grew to be concerning: even when he was with you, his mind would always be elsewhere. You pondered the idea of confronting him face to face, but you didn’t want to pry or come off as coquettish. Therefore you kept worrying in silence, mind haunted by the possibilities that could have led your dear friend down on such a questionable path.

You didn’t wait for long though. The confirmation to your suspicions made itself known when Light came to you one day to ask about those lessons you had offered him months back.

The sudden request, after so much time spent together without ever mentioning the offer, struck you as odd. What had changed his mind? As you racked your brain to try and get the answers you so desperately craved, you couldn't help but to come to the same conclusion over and over again: Light's excuse for finally making up his mind about self-defense was bulletproof, sure, but the sudden change of heart didn't sit well with you still. Was the wish to aid his father on the field all there was to it? You didn't think so. But until you had no solid proof to your suspicions, that was all they'd ever be. You refused to act on a whim and rather logically decided to humor the boy in his newfound interest, as long as he kept his sights on self-defense and self-defense only. In the meantime, you decided you’d monitor the evolution of his behavior and keep a close watch on him .

“You have made quite some progress, huh.”

You swallowed down almost half the water bottle in your hand, while looking at your equally worn out companion: it had been another two hours of training and you came to the conclusion that maybe it was time to end your little sparring session.

“If it’s you who says it, it must be true.” Smiled the boy, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“I think our lessons are numbered, there’s not much else I can teach you.”

“That’s nice to hear, you really are a tough teacher.” Another fake smile which you did not reciprocate. As he made haste to get everything he’d brought with him in his bag, you made up your mind and settled for upfront confrontation.

“I guess… say Light, is there something that’s been bothering you lately?” it was now or never and you weren’t going to let the occasion go. He was tired and supposedly had his guard down – it was a moment as good as any to get some information out of him.

“Oh, I guess I’ve been pretty out of it lately, huh? I’m sorry if I had you worried, work at the station has been quite hectic and I can’t help but take it home with me.”

“That makes sense, don’t stress yourself out too much though. I’m sure you’re doing the best you can to support your father.” your words were automatic, articulated with little to no regard for the boy’s feelings: you were disappointed your so-called friend had decided to feed you yet another hollow excuse instead than opening up to you as a friend should. If there was anything you absolutely could not stand about Light Yagami, it was his charming way of spinning words in order to avoid revealing the whole truth.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

Frustrated that he had let the conversation drop for the umpteenth time, annoyed at your fruitless attempts to persuade your friend to simply talk to you, and, to top it all, exhausted by the tough training session of the day, you let the negative impulses get to your head and acted in an uncharacteristically rash way: the surprise punch landed on the target with no effort at all and, even though you realized one second too late that you had broken almost a dozen rules of the moral code of martial arts, you felt invigorated by the action. The sound of your punch colliding with Light’s jaw brought an immense amount of satisfaction to your fogged mind, so much so that you almost came to question your own twisted way of taking it out on the boy; the moment of blind anger subsided, but you did not back down from the upcoming fight:

“I intended to give you the benefit of the doubt, given the sincere nature of the friendship I thought we shared, but apparently I was way too understanding with you. I keep extending my hand towards you and you threaten to bite it off each time with your half-hearted excuses and half-truths. You may not be aware of it, but this-” you gestured towards him and then yourself: “this is not the way things should be between friends, Light Yagami and I’m sick of pretending everything’s alright.”

The boy did not flinch, nor did he make any move to reciprocate your previous offending motion. He just stood there, impassible and unreadable.

“Will you at least say something? Or do you not care at all?”

Light Yagami was stuck, both physically and figuratively speaking. Your harsh words had caught him off guard, literally hitting him in the face with the hard reality he’d been progressively distancing himself from. He had underestimated what an issue your shared bond could become for his great plan of rebuilding the world; if he were to be completely honest, he’d considered disposing of you at first – not permanently, of course, but cutting you off from his life would have been one less burden to worry about. His game of cat and mouse with L did not make things easy though: you were the weak link, a bothersome liability he should have taken care of since the start, but terminating the friendship with you so abruptly would have done nothing but to bring more attention upon himself and you. His position within the special task force of L was precarious enough as it was, he couldn’t afford the slightest miscalculation. Therefore he’d settled on exploiting whatever he could gain from the relationship (hence the MMA training lessons) while maintaining the façade of a precious but unfortunately extremely busy friend. He hadn’t anticipated you’d actually see right through his little stunt.

He raised a hand to his jaw – it stung. A sudden urge overcame him and his hand twitched as if expecting to clench around a certain black notebook. As soon as the compulsion hit, he composed himself once again:

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I realize I’ve been a terrible friend to you, but-” the words caught on his tongue, a sob rocking his frame so suddenly you almost jumped back, startled. Guilt began to pool in your stomach, had you been too hard on him?

“Things are not going well at the station and I can’t give you any details but it is all so- so overwhelming-”

You closed the distance between the two of you and, feeling oh so regretful for your hasty actions and so hypocritical for your arrogant claims, you hugged your dear friend as if it were your lifeline.

“I’m sorry Light, I-”

“There’s no need to apologize (Y/N), I have been so cold to you and it is my fault that I cut you off like that. I assure you it will never happen again, I will do better.”

You held the boy in your arms, and let him take his time to calm down. Horrible, that’s what you felt for treating a friend so hatefully - he’d already been struggling on his own and instead of landing him a comforting hand, you had hit him with it. You promised you’d make it up to him, too.

“If that punch managed to catch me so off guard, it means you’ll have to bear with me for a few more lessons, I guess” he finally smiled.

[…]

“You should have seen the look on your face when she punched you! Priceless! Oh I am so glad you humans can prove to be so entertaining yet!”

Light gave you a wave of his hand as he made his way down the street, away from your house, ignoring the nagging laughter of the hellish being following him around. What a waste of his time.

“I really thought you’d get rid of her for good this time! What a night!”

The boy made no comment to Ryuk’s exhilarated blabbering, trying instead not to lose himself in that primordial fury that made him tempted to write another name on the Death Note.

“And the way you managed to play her- she was mortified when you started crying! You are a great actor, Light Yagami.”

“Shut up, Ryuk.” whispered Light.

“You know what I think? I think you can’t really get rid of her, even if you desperately want to, even with no L getting in the way of your plans – you’d still wouldn’t be able to kill her. Oh, now, that’s gold!”

The boy did not confirm nor confute Ryuk’s words - he kept silent as he made his way through the darkness.