#He is going to earn it properly dammit!

[batneko]

bowuigi rock star x roadie AU.

The Mario bros are still plumbers by trade, but they're friends with the guy who manages the nearby concert venue and often get roped in to help out during big shows. They're both stronger than they look, and have plenty of experience at repairs even aside from plumbing. And Luigi has always been good with machines so he takes to the new equipment with ease. Though Mario is better with people and makes friends faster, Luigi is the one that everyone comes to rely on when things go wrong.

At a concert a few years ago Mario got into an actual physical fight with the star, but since the guy was already well-known as an asshole Mario's friend pretended to "fire" him and then brought him back to help out again next week, no big deal. Just can't work the next Bowser concert, that's all.

Bowser got famous when he was only eighteen, which means he never really had to grow up. He's spent the last ten years getting his way and experiencing no consequences (as long as he punched down). However now that his son is old enough to talk about how he feels and what he wants, Bowser is starting to realize he's been absent at best and a phenomenally bad example, and wants to start being better. Too bad he has no idea how.

His star is also starting to fade, and he feels conflicted about that. He's had enough hits now that as long as he manages his portfolio well and does enough stupid celebrity appearances to keep himself in the public eye, he'll never have to work again. But he likes performing, he likes rock, he doesn't want to be the "cameo appearance by" guy. He's not even thirty yet, dammit!

So he's doing this show at a slightly-smaller venue he hadn't ever intended to return to (some little guy with a mustache tried to step to him last time), and trying to figure out how much he can cut down on touring and still be able to afford the nanny and all the stuff he likes, and some intern just told him "my grandma loves you!" and then one of the subwoofers explodes and the replacement won't work for some reason and the concert is in twenty goddamn minutes and Bowser is going to lose it.

But out of nowhere another little guy with a mustache (not the same one as before? that one got fired, right? this one's cuter anyway) turns up and fixes the replacement and gets everything back on track so efficiently that Bowser is on stage ready to go with ten minutes to spare.

Come to think of it, that same little guy had been the one organizing the roadies to unload all the equipment earlier. And Bowser's pretty sure he was running the sound check. Does he do everything around here?

In the middle of his concert as Bowser is about to start a rather raunchy song, he suddenly says, "This one goes out to the guy who fixed my subwoofer and saved the show. Come to my dressing room after and I'll thank you properly." There's laughter from the audience (plausibly-deniable bisexuality has been a part of rock music for as long as there's been rock music) and Bowser adds, "I'm not joking," and then starts the song.

After the concert, Luigi comes to his dressing room.

True to his word, Bowser is all set to get down to business, but it turns out there was some work that needed running by him and everyone figured Luigi had earned some goodwill so they made him go. He didn't even watch the concert, he was too busy working behind the scenes.

Of course this only comes out after Luigi was halfway seduced to go ahead and let an asshole rock star blow him, but Bowser is so embarrassed at the misunderstanding that he throws him out into the hallway, breathless and disheveled. A lot of people see him and a few people caught Bowser's dedication, so by the end of the night everyone assumes it happened anyway.

And that was just the Friday show. There's one more to get through tomorrow.

[wataksampingan]

Very long Chapter 96 feelings/thoughts below cut coz I saved my hard-earned Naver cookies for this and I'm going to react while it's fresh dammit.

Spoilers in every possible way, as always.

Oh my God its their first official date and of course it doesn't go Theo's way at all coz he's fighting a lost cause against an author with a sense of humour I share. Thank God his people love him

Nearly 100 chapters later and only now do we start steering towards Therdeo "My angel" Lapileon from the prologue (which I still find it difficult to fathom; the road is long and arduous from Therdeo 'Face as Red as My Eyes' Lapileon we see right now)

I have yet to translate the dialogue properly, but that last panel of him honestly unnerves me (and judging from Google Translated comments in Korean, I'm not the only one.) I'm not really one for the kind of ML who is madly obsessive over their love interest to extremely difficult extents coz I'm too old and cynical to see this as a good thing in a relationship, fictional or otherwise (This is purely a personal preference; no judgement if that's your jam and jelly)

But the thing is that it makes sense. Of course Theo would get dangerous over the first woman he's fallen in love with. Of course he'd do anything to keep her now that, yknow, she's actually made her feelings known. After 90+ chapters of angsting, literally watching her die a few times in front of him, holding such huge feelings of guilt for what his blood has done to her, quietly despairing over keeping anyone close to him coz he's a Lapileon and they succumb so often to death -- this overwhelming fear of losing her is understandable. The idea of her leaving now must be intolerable, like "not after every damn thing I've been through. Everything we have been through. Over my cold dead body".

...I've had the thought quite a few times that seungu succeeded in convincing me that Theo is scary, and this chapter - while also very sweet - is really laying that fact out again in no uncertain terms: Therdeo Lapileon really shouldn't be messed with.

The thing is, meta-wise, there is no end to cold, stern dukes of the frozen North with fearsome reputations, black/dark hair and red/dark eyes - it's one of the most longstanding fantasy romance tropes in manhwa after all. Throw a stone and you'll hit a milord with a chest so wide you can fit a full dresser sideways between his shoulders and a face so stony Medusa is taking notes. And of course, his grace is going to have the reputation of Ultimate Warrior and Sovereign of His Land, Tamer of the Terrain, Reviver of the Barren Soil Now Made Fertile under His Leadership, because only such a powerful man with a heart of ice and terror would have the wherewithal to bend the unyielding north to his will. He isn't emperor/king simply because of circumstances (TM), character and/or choice.

To name just a few: Prince (...kinda? Sorta? Its a long story) Killian from Like Wind on a Dry Branch, Hades from I Married the Main Lead's Dad, Riftan from Under the Oak Tree, Kandel from I Thought My Time Was Up, Milian from Karina's Last Days; heck, even the other Killian from Not Your Typical Reincarnation Story is about to inherit a territory that isn't so great but which he will no doubt develop into a thriving land coz he's Capable that way. If you remove the hair and eye colour conditions, there are even more examples. 99% of them are said to strike fear into the hearts of men just by being mentioned in a room.

...ngl, putting my gigantic bias aside, Theo truly is among my top three scariest ML. Not even Killian (Rieta's) gives me pause the way Theo does, and I have immense respect and admiration for the way Like Wind on A Dry Branch is told (and translated). I know Killian is a powerful man; I feel Theo is threatening. (Brief aside here to acknowledge that Killian has game for days, while Theo is....... look, he's trying.)

Take this opinion with many grains of salt, but few MLs that I've seen so far (and admittedly my repertoire is probably very limited compared to others) has come close to the time Theo plain snapped during Celphi's bullying arc, and when he nearly decapitated a wholeass princess in front of the entire court because she killed his wife (again. And yes, justifiable but still, in front of the EMPEROR HIMSELF.)

Also, the man looked like THIS when the servant who poisoned her begged him to "go back to the princess":

I say this with all love: Theo is not a balanced individual.

We already know this is a world where medieval torture is par for the course, but so far it's been reserved for Gen, who tortured and experimented on a child, and this dude who's been an accessory to Dodolea's crimes since the beginning. Theo does not give a single fuck about trivial things like consequences when it comes to Celphi and Perry's wellbeing. The world will burn if it must, just so he can find out who hurt them.

I said before that Saoirse is a true Lapileon, and Theo was the softest hearted of the siblings. I still maintain it's true, but with the addendum that Theo isn't far off in ruthlessness. You just need to make the mistake of hurting his wife or his son.

Granted, the obsession is only a problem if he restricts Perry just because she's "His". And she's proven a few times that she will Do Shit She Wants regardless of the Lapileons, Princess Dodolea or even herself (god, the way she second guessed herself so hard, only to bust back into the room with those shackles and physically FIGHT MIA OFF in ch 92 - Phineas owes her impulsiveness his life literally). I don't think the story can logically progress that way unless Perry has some sort of personality transplant. And I trust seungu too much for that. The fear is in more what he'll do behind her back (please don't Theo, we've been through this, you know what happened the last time you did things without telling her first - and even if other things went well (like suppressing ugly false stories in publications) that doesn't guarantee you're doing the right thing by not keeping her informed, you walnut.

...yes I know she also has the same bad habit of Not Telling You Her Business but she's LEARNING. I think.)

...also, tbf, Theo doesn't need his obsession to make him a danger to his own love life. Romance or not, he's still Socially Awkward and Fucked Up so lord only knows how many awkward mistakes he's going to make trying to actively court his wife 🥲

Then again, it's not like she's any better considering her last serious relationship was so awful, she literally died and went back in time. I'm not surprised, and in fact quite glad, it took her this long to admit to her finer feelings. However, now this is slightly uncharted territory, and this woman bottles up her feelings and lies to herself just about as much as Theo does. (Why are you so bothered Mia spent so much time around him? Why are you so upset that you can't do more to help him? Why are you so worried whenever he's seemingly avoiding you? Why do you look away each time he gives you puppy dog eyes, Pereshati? HMMM? WHY INDEED)

And now they have to return to the capital with all these revelations, and be within reach of the imperial family again and I AM AFRAID FOR THEM, PRECIOUS, I TRULY AM.

On a completely different tangent: I am truly not a fan of the novel ending where Theo ends up being crowned emperor. So if this manhwa ends with the coronation of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Therdeo Lapileon and Her Imperial Majesty Empress Pereshati Jahardt, I will be heartbroken. Like, I would have the same reaction to it the way Game of Thrones fans reacted to Season 8. That's how bad I would take it. I hope to all things good seungu deviates from there as well. It feels like the romance is following the novel just a smidge more - a soupçon if you will - in this season, so I'm a little trepidatious about what other aspects might follow. I remain a big fan of how different the manhwa direction is, so... GO SEUNGU!! FOLLOW YOUR STAR!!

P/S: my train of thought while reading ch 90:

Seungu is just bringing all of Phineas' personal trauma in full technicolor when he flashes back to his younger self witnessing his parents fight while his older brother sustains a severe eye injury, oh my god. This poor boy - no wonder he wanted to run so badly.

Oh god, Gloria having to try and save her children from this insane man.

Okay, so this cements that it was Theo's grandfather who was tyrannical as fuck and abused everyone including his youngest grandson? not Theo's father who also looks like he was just Trying His Best? But Gen's dialogue mentions "abeoji" (father)? Did Phineas' older brother neglect his kids or grow up into another abuser??? oh GOD THIS FAMILY

PPS: I cannot WAIT to see how the English translators handle that panel in ch95 when he finally finds enough braincells to return her embrace (that's not just any hug, cmon - that's a full on, no holds barred, literary Embrace)

I'm fairly sure she said "It's/I'm cold", but I also got overexcited because I thought she said "I like you" (???) It's easy to overlap/overhear either phrase as each other coz they sound fairly similar if you say it quickly (same energy like saying "suki" in Japanese but you need context to know if they mean they like a person or something else entirely).

Either way, it was definitely NOT "saranghae", which let's face it, IS FAR TOO DEEP for where they are right now. These two doofuses have only just begun to find out what their feelings mean, tho Theo may be too quick a study , eomma help.

PPPS: Ep 87 comes out in English tomorrow morning (for us in GMT+8 anyway) AND I WILL HAVE WORDS ABOUT THAT CONVERSATION, VJFHDJSKSKSL I CANNOT WAIT

PPPPS: it just occurred to me that all the examples I mentioned about the other comparable dukes of the North have more or less Definitively gotten together with their love interests, emotionally and/or physically. I mean if someone came up with a gantt chart/comparative timeline/line graph of when each duke finally kissed/tumbled into bed with their love interests to prove me wrong/right, that'd be fantastic but anyway

Theo has only just hugged her in ch 95.

They have shared a bed for over 90 chapters and it is ONLY JUST NOW that there is prolonged bodily contact apart from holding (often gloved) hands.

...I keep saying this because it's true: I love this slow burn so much.

[chaosclimber]

driver

“I’m not doing it.”

Hob grinned a bit–there’d been some gentle ribbing between them on the subject already, and he was happy to slip into the well-worn argument. The kids in question were away, anyway, it couldn’t do any harm. “Dream…come on, you know you’re more qualified than me for this. Besides, do you really want an ADHD-er to try to teach another ADHD-er to drive?”

“I don’t want to be in any vehicle either of our sons are operating. I would prefer they not drive at all, but I know that’s a foolish wish.” Dream swept passed, not bothering to take the pile of clothes he'd been folding. Hob stood and watched for a moment, dumbfounded. The reaction was bigger than he'd expected–he honestly thought the argument was all in fun. It wouldn't be the first playful disagreement they'd had over the kids as teenager-dom posed new challenges for them. 

He started to follow behind, but stopped himself a few steps in. Dream was a very different person than Hob. For whatever reason, this had upset him, and Dream was the kind of person who preferred space when upset. Much as Hob wanted to just go and hug him, that simply wasn’t the best choice. So instead, he veered from the hallway and retreated to the kitchen, pulling out the leftover rice, a few eggs, pre-cooked chicken breast, and a few veggies from the fridge. Homemade fried rice was one of the first dishes Hob had cooked for Dream, and it was a favorite of theirs when a quick meal was needed. Tonight it wasn’t necessarily about the speed, though. He hoped it could be a comfort. 

Dream didn’t emerge from the bedroom until dinner was ready, and when he did, he seemed…withdrawn. Hob held himself back from pushing, from asking immediately what the matter was. He could damn well guess, now that he’d had some time to reflect. What he remained unsure of–more importantly, really–was whether Dream would actually want to talk about it. 

Dream held his silence. 

Well. Hob was never one to disappoint a captive audience. He chattered on–about his day, about his students and their determination to win the little contest he’d set up to let them earn extra credit (find the crudest joke they could in a period piece of literature and deliver it properly when he least expected it. Today’s attempt included the ‘your mother’ joke from Titus Andronicus at the end of class, right as he was taking a sip of coffee. The three who’d done it were the front-runners, so far.), about how his journaling attempt was going (abysmally–it was Friday, and he had managed to actually use the fancy set up he’d spent  over an hour setting up a grand total of once.), about anything that came to his mind. 

It wasn’t until Hob was clearing away the dishes that Dream finally spoke. “...They’re growing up.” The words were quiet, Dream’s already low voice gaining just a bit of gravel, as it did when he had been crying recently. He was still sat at the table, shoulders pulling in and up. In that moment, Dream seemed to transform from a person into the sad, wet cat one just happened to find in a dumpster. 

Hob just wanted to hug him, dammit. He took a breath and resisted, though–he knew Dream tended to actually dislike touch when he was upset, so he would wait until he asked for the contact. “Yeah. Not a fun realization, that one.”

“...I don’t want them to grow up.” He shook his head. “It was not too long ago Orpheus would sit in my lap and beg for story time. Now he’s going to drive. How far will he go from us once he is able?”

“Oh, dove…” Hob paused at the confession. God, he was familiar with that realization. Honestly, he’d been putting off looking at it head-on, himself. At least until he could schedule some time to watch brainless rom-coms with a pint of ice cream (yes, he had the coping methods of a teenage girl dealing with her first break-up, no, he would brook no judgment on that fact). “I get it. But we can’t stop them, you know that.” He sighed. “Look, I’ll teach them both how to drive–I was gonna, anyway, I know you don’t really like driving in the first place. We just…have to have a little faith that they’ll come back. They know they can come back, whenever they need to.” 

Dream sighed, and looked up at Hob. “I…could do with a hug, now. If you are willing.”

And that was all the invitation Hob needed to drag Dream to the livingroom and settle them both in for a cuddle. 

As it turned out, they needn’t have worried. Robyn was a natural at driving–he couldn’t engage in conversation while he was behind the wheel, but that was fine by Hob. And Orpheus was nervous enough about it that he didn’t end up getting his license right away–which was fine by Dream. 

@domaystic All my fills will be cross posted to AO3

[pinievsev]

Hi it's mee!! Since you always have amazing Ideas for requests, you must be amazing at fulfilling requests too!!

I'd like to request a Hunter from xikers fluff, where reader goes on a first date to the movies with Hunter and they're both nervous in the beginning but then they hit it off and get very cute with each other!!

Thank you in advance and take as much time as you need! Love you 💞💞💞

I have, finally found motivation to write! I hope this does justice to your request! I'm not exactly the best at it, I might disappoint you but I hope you enjoy Love<3! (Could've definitely done a better job on this 😅)

{Requests are open, you can find my masterlist here!}

!!LOUD!!

Pairing: nonidol!Hunter X GN!reader

Warnings: none as far as I know.

Take a shot for every time I say a variation of the word awkward.☠️

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★

You were telling yourself not to panic, be calm, cool. You can do this! Just be yourse-

Your train of thought was cut short as you tripped on the sidewalk, barely catching yourself last second. The other day you had been asked out on a movie date by you crush!

Yeah, you were happy and excited and all that, but you were, rightfully so, nervous. You stood up properly and checked your phone. 8:15PM. You were supposed to be there 15 minutes ago!

You basically ran to the cinema a couple blocks down, a pit forming in your stomach as you saw a very uncomfortable looking hunter outside the cinema glancing around. You mentally slapped yourself and rushed over, apologising over and over "...and I lost track of time and-" he waved his hands Infront of your face, dismissing your apology.

"It's fine! It's okay! I just got here anyway!" He gave you a half smile, you could tell he lied but you nodded, not pushing any further.

"can we just- go inside?". He reached for your hand as you looked for the room you were supposed to be in, making butterflies erupt in your stomach, cliché I know, for a second you felt like you should pull your hand away but you forced yourself not to, instead letting your mind wander. You had let him pick the movie, so you didn't know what to expect.

After a couple minutes of waiting in your sits, your hands awkwardly touching, the lights inside the room finally dimmed and you focused your eyes on the screen.

Your jaw fell open as you saw the movie playing, it was one of your all time favourites! You had watched it so many times and never gotten bored of it. Forgetting the awkwardness moments prior you excitedly turned your head towards him, kind of scaring him.

"W-what-?!" He asked earning a couple of 'hushes' and 'shushes' from the people around you "You like this movie?" You asked, immediately regretting the question. He picked it! Of course he liked it! "Yeah- do you not?! We can always do something else-" "no no! It's actually one of my all time favourites, it's just. Not exactly too known that's why I'm surprised" you explained.

He quickly relaxed, squeezing your hand which you had forgotten was still in his "you scared me!" He whisper yelled this time "Sorry-?" He started at you for a couple of seconds before letting out a wheeze at how tense you looked suddenly.

So, he took it upon himself to help you relax, even though he was tense himself. Throughout the movie you talked about the plot, your favourite characters and even recited some of the lines along with the actors on screen. Laughing whenever someone shushed you.

Towards the end of the movie, you had noticed him turning to look at you quite frequently, your face was flushed red and you thanked whatever higher power was responsible for the darkness inside the room. "Hey.." you turned your head to look at him this time "yeah?" He leaned closer "You're red. Is everything okay?" Dammit. You took in a sharp breath "yep, just a little hot" you made up the stupidest excuse possible.

"yeah, you are." It was barely audible but you heard it, blinking at him repeatedly "wha- what?" "I'll tell you later" he motioned to the screen, turning to focus back on the movie that was mare seconds away from ending. Leaving you sitting there confused and flustered.

Walking out of the cinema you turned your head sharply towards him crossing your arms "Wanna tell me what that was?" He mimicked your actions "but your know what it was?" You narrowed your eyes "do I?" "Mhmmm" he gave you a toothy smile, basically melting you. How can someone he so cute?!

.

You were currently sitting on swings in a park, having lost track of time. You just sat there not swinging or anything you just rested your head on the chain, starting to once again feel awkward.

You felt someone standing behind you so you looked up, You saw Hunter standing over you, looking down at you "are you always this quiet?" "Maybe" you gave him a side smile, you've only been out for a couple of hours but you were starting to warm up to him even more than you already had.

He leaned down, a couple of inches away from your face "Maybe? What kind of answer is that?!" You bumped his shoulder and he laughed "ok no seriously, why are we so quiet?" Your eyes shone as you decide to have some fun "Oh? Well if that's the problem, WHY NOT BE LOUD?!" you asked raising your voice "Shhh, hey hey!" "WHAT?! I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO BE QUIET?!" "Yeah, not so loud tho!" You smiled satisfied with yourself "OH YEAH?! SORRY I DON'T REALISE" you noticed some windows light up across the street, making your eyes wide "Be quiet!" He warned playfully leaning closer "or what?" You asked not as loudly as you hoped.

Wanna take a guess on what happened next?

If you guessed a kiss, you'd be absolutely correct.

"or that" you tilted your head to the side still looking up at him from the swing you were sat on "I should be loud more often then?" "You can just ask, you know." You stood up and turned to him "can I have another one then?" "Good question. Can you?"now it was your turn to lean over, kissing him instead.

Well, that went better than you were expecting, not complaining or anything!

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★

[vampyrsutton]

Be Good For Me

Summary:

Hawks gets to run the show and he has such sweet torture planned for his favorite villain.

Ao3 Tags:

Handcuffs, Blindfolds, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Control, Anal Sex, Topping from the Bottom, RidingTakami Keigo | Hawks is a Little Shit, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Has a Big Dick, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Has Genital Piercings, Dirty Talk, Teasing

Notes:

Day 3 of DabiHawks Week 2023!

NSFW Prompts: Handcuffs/Blindfolds

If it wasn't for the fact that he recognized the feathers holding his wrists to the chair in makeshift handcuffs and covering his eyes like a blindfold, he would have burned the place to the ground already. As it was, he's already been sitting here for what could have been anywhere from thirty minutes to over an hour, and his patience was already worn thin by the smaller feather teasing him to hardness but refusing to do anything satisfying. He had no clue if Hawks was even in the room though and the hero could always just ignore his cursing through his feathers.

The feather teasing his cock vanishes for a second before teasing his balls so suddenly that he jumps and is reminded of his final problem that he had been left here butt ass naked with no idea where his clothes are to get dressed if he snapped and burned his way out.

He was completely at Hawks' mercy and he wants to glare at his cock in betrayal when it dares to twitch at the thought.

His question of where Hawks is is finally answered when Dabi hears a low chuckle from the hero no doubt feeling his cock twitch against the feather.

"Hawks." He tries to growl out in annoyance only to curse and struggle in his bindings when the feather teases the sensitive head of his cock.

"Having fun, Dabs?" Hawks hums teasingly, finally giving Dabi a direction to bare his teeth. "Aw, come on, Hot Stuff, don't be like that." He laughs, the sound moving with him. He might be getting closer, but the asshole had also been trained to throw his voice so he might not have even been over there to begin with. For all Dabi knows, the bird's been right in front of him the entire time and is just fucking with him.

He glares through the feathers nonetheless. "Either let me up so I fuck and spank that bratty ass red or fucking do something, asshole." The villain seethes, letting smoke come out of his mouth in a warning.

"Hmm, nah." Dabi can practically hear the shrug in the hero's voice. "It's fun watching you be the one to squirm for once." An audible smirk makes Dabi sneer. "Don't worry though, Hot Stuff. I'm almost ready for you, and despite your little outburst just now, you've been doing such a good job that I think you've earned a reward."

Dabi huffs, but he can't deny that he's curious about what Hawks might have in mind for him. "…Well get on with it!”

The bastard actually laughs at this and Dabi once again considers burning the shit and taking over, but then the feather is properly stroking his cock and he throws his head back with a moaned curse as he struggles against his bindings to no avail. 

“Fucking shit, Hawks! Finally!” Dabi groans, rutting his hips up into the friction before once again cursing the hero when more feathers wrap around him to hold his back to the chair and his hips down as a result so he’s stuck going at the bird’s pace. “Dammit!” 

“Nuh uh uh. Come on, Dabs, when have you ever let me get away with that.” Hawks hums mockingly, knowing it’ll make Dabi bristle.

He’s about to open his mouth to do just that actually when the sound of a cap opening rings through the otherwise silent room and Dabi’s mouth snaps shut. 

That was lube.

No doubt about it.

And Dabi’s in no position for Hawks to be able to finger him open let alone fuck him so that leaves only one option. 

Hawks is going to ride him. 

As quickly as it had been broken down, Dabi’s patience is suddenly restored as both he and his dick perk up in anticipation, Dabi waiting for the telltale squelching of Hawks opening himself up.

Except it never comes. 

Instead, Dabi is met with hand-warmed lube speared over his dick before there’s a warm hand on either scarred shoulder for the hero to brace himself.

Oh.

That’s why it took Hawks so long to get back to him.

Dabi opens his mouth to tease the hero for playing with himself in the corner, but all that comes out is another curse and a low moan as Hawks starts sliding down the villain’s pierced cock and unabashedly moaning in his ear at the stretch. 

“Fuck, Dabi, so big.” Hawks all but whimpers, obviously trying to get a rise out of Dabi, and dammit if it isn’t working as his cock twitches inside the hero at the already debauched sound. “What, no teasing? No calling me some form of dirty bird for touching myself in the corner while my feather played with you?” He gasps as Dabi’s hips manage to twitch enough to make him sink deeper. “I was watching you the entire time, you know? How you struggled and cursed as my feather riled you up but brought you nowhere close to the edge. Felt with the feathers around your eyes how sweat started gathering on your forehead as you got desperate. How your hands are clinging onto the feathers holding them captive like a lifeline so you don’t lose yourself completely.” 

He shivers as he finally reaches the base and Dabi bites his lip to not make a sound from the all-encompassing tight heat of Hawks’s ass spasming around him with the intrusion. 

A breathy laugh. 

“I’ve been toying with you for almost two hours, you know? Working myself open nice and sloppy for you just how you like it. You could’ve given into your desperation at any time and fucked me over the crate I was sitting on and been met with no resistance ages ago, but you were so caught up in trying to find your own pleasure that you had no clue, did you?” Dabi feels a smirk against his lips as Hawks kisses him and it takes everything in the villain not to chase those teasing lips when they pull away. 

“I was mere feet away fucking myself open like the slut you love to say I am, and you were over here being such a good boy not trying to escape.” It takes a lot for the hero to keep the laugh out of his voice when he feels Dabi twitch inside of him at the praise even as he watches the villain’s face remain the same frustrated scowl it's been for the past hour and a half. “Struggled sure, but you could have gotten out any time you wanted and yet you chose to stay right here and wait for your reward, didn’t you?”

Dabi sneers, too prideful to admit that’s exactly what he did. “You took my clothes. It would have been too much of a pain.”

“Is that so?” Hawks hums, gasping lightly as he grinds his hips down to draw another curse from the villain. “So I should just get off of you and let you take care of yourself then?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Hawks.” Dabi snaps before moaning loudly when Hawks suddenly lifts his hips before dropping back down on his cock, and oh Dabi can feel the bastard’s smirk. “Fuck…move already.”

“Are you sure~” Hawks teases, moving his hips to get a string of curses from the bound villain. “You seemed so against it just a second ago.”

Dabi stays resolutely silent for all of three seconds until Hawks sighs and acts like he’s going to get off his cock. “I lied! Dammit, Hawks, I lied! Just ride me already…” He has to stop himself from grinding his teeth as he groans in defeat. “I’ve been good.”

Hawks chuckles slightly at reducing the big bad villain to a petulant pouting with just a little teasing before he kisses said pouty lip. 

“Yes, you have.” Hawks assures as he braces his hands on Dabi’s shoulders once more. “Now here’s your reward.”

Dabi doesn’t even get to sigh in relief before he’s straining against his binding once more with a loud curse when Hawks suddenly drops back down and starts riding him in earnest, his own chirped moan almost covering Dabi’s in volume.

“Fuck, birdie.” Dabi groans, wanting to thrust up into the tight heat surrounding him and having to force himself not to finally whine when the feathers continue to hold his hips down. “Which one of us is the villain again?” The feather cuffs and blindfold had been one thing but this was just cruel. 

Hawks snorts, shaking his head at Dabi’s dramatics as he feels every twist of muscle through his feathers in the villain’s need to contribute, but that’s not the game they’re playing today. 

No, for once, Dabi’s not the one in charge. 

Hawks is.

And he plans to enjoy breaking his grumpy mate into the same needy mess he always degrades Hawks into. 

“Ah~ Dabi~ Fuck, you feel so good.” Hawks starts talking, hoping to rile the villain up further. “Letting me fuck myself so deep. Stuffing me so full. You always love making me gape even a little on your cock, and in this position, I’ll have no choice but to leak cum if I have any hope of getting off your cock.” He smirks slightly as he whispers in Dabi’s ear. “If you even want me to get off that is. You do love using me as a cock sleeve. I’ll probably have barely let you go before you’re bending me over something to fuck me again, am I right?”

Dabi groans, muscles straining against feathers whenever Hawks hits his prostate and squeezes around him, but otherwise behaving surprisingly well. 

Hawks can’t help but chuckle to himself. 

Yep, he’s in trouble later.

“Come on, Dabs, nothing to say? You’re always talking such filth in my ear, but a few feathers render you speechless?” Hawks sighs as though in pity and he gets to watch Dabi’s lip curl in annoyance. “What would the other villains think learning their heavy hitter is so easily reduced to nothing but a fancy dildo.”

Dabi had been trying to stay quiet, not knowing if his usual snark would make Hawks stop, but he still has his pride dammit. “Oh, fuck OFf-Dammit!”

Just as he feared, the first signs of disobedience had Hawks stopping where he was and clamping around Dabi like a vice. It was both too much as he was strangled in a tight heat, but also entirely not enough as it only covered about a third of his dick and left the rest with nothing.

“What was that?” Hawks smirks, watching Dabi’s throat work around whatever his thinking of saying. “I’m being so nice giving you a reward for being so good for me, and you’re acting like this?” He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “I could always get off, you know?”

“No! Hawks, don’t you-” Dabi makes a choked moaning noise when Hawks clenches around him again in warning. “Just- dammit- just move!” He groans.

“Hmm, I don’t think that’s how you ask, is it?” Hawks hums, moving just enough to get another desperate noise from the villain. “You’d spank my ass raw if I tried to ask like that. Come on, Dabi, you can do be than that.” He leans forward again to chirp in his ear. “Ask nicely, won’t you, Hot Stuff?”

Dabi bares his teeth in a snarl at what Hawks is suggesting. “I don’t beg, hero .” 

Yeah, based on the amount of venom in that word, he’s in so much trouble later.

“Fine.” Hawks sighs, smirk still on his face as another feather wraps around the base of Dabi’s cock like a ring and he gets to watch the horror spread across Dabi’s face at the realization. “Guess you don’t cum then.”

“Wait, you can’t be-FUCK!” Dabi almost manages to knock the seat over with how violently he jerks when Hawks starts riding him again like it’s his only purpose in life. It’s too much all at once and based on the sounds alone Dabi can tell Hawks is putting on a show, but he can’t fucking see it, and combined with not being allowed to touch is chipping away at what’s left of his sanity let alone his resolve. “HAWKS!”

Shit, Dabi, so full. Letting me fuck myself so well. Fuck, I’m close, Dabi.” Hawks mumbles in a way that says he’s focusing more on his own pleasure than the villain’s and it's driving Dabi mad. “Gonna cum, Dabi. Gonna cum fucking myself on your cock, and it's going to feel amazing. Fuck, I wish we could cum together, but-”

“We can, birdie, we can.” Dabi moans, muscles straining again as his orgasm is held hostage by a fucking feather. “All you have to do is let my cock go, and I can fill you with all the cum you want just- Fuck-nnghnnn~” Dabi’s moan is muffled by him biting his lip own lip when Hawks tightens around him and glides back up from the base to tip before dropping down again with a keening croon. “Hawwwks~!”

“Come on, Dabi. One word.” Hawks chirps in a way that tells Dabi he is actually close and not just bluffing. “Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, you just have to say one word and I’ll let you cum.”

Dabi stubbornly keeps his mouth shut, doubting a feather can actually steal his orgasm from him as Hawks milks him towards the edge but then another feather presses behind his balls just as he’s about to fall over the edge to make it mind-numbing and-

…

Nothing.

The feather actually stopped it.

Dabi curses and feels smoke leaving his mouth in his frustration before talons digging into scar tissue hard enough to feel brings him back to his chirping birdie. 

“Hawks, I swear-”

“Close, Dabi. So close. Fuck, Dabs, I’m gonna cum.” The hero rambles in a warning. “I’m gonna cum and you’ll just be left here to deal with it on your own. Is that what you want, Dabs? Would you rather cum in your hand than inside me?”

Dabi opens his mouth with every intention of being stubborn, but then that spot behind his balls is being pressed at the same time Hawks clenches around him with a desperate chirp and he breaks. 

He crumbles.

Fuck, he needs to cum so badly. 

“Please…” He manages to choke out, knowing Hawks bird hearing will catch it and hoping it will be enough. 

It’s not.

“What was that?” Hawks hums and Dabi just knows his smirk is shit-eating.

He no longer cares.

“I said please!” He growls, straining against his restraints once more. “Please, birdie-Fucking, please! Let me fucking cum, dammit!”

Hawks lets out a low chuckle, but the feather leaves Dabi’s cock and Hawks goes back to trying to milk Dabi’s soul out through his cock, bouncing with a vengeance and a stream of desperate chirps. 

Dabi doesn’t even care how smug Hawks must look as the sudden pressure and another firm press behind his balls has his vision whiting out behind the makeshift blindfold as he cums with a shout. 

“HAWKS~! Fuck! Please! So good! Feels soo good! Don’t stop, fuck don’t fucking stop!” Dabi rambles as Hawks rides him through the aftershocks until the hero cums with a moaning caw. He crumbles in the chair as Hawks fucks himself through it, giving nothing more than a few token mumbles of sensitivity until the hero releases the feathers as he slumps against him. 

“Fuck, Dabi.” Hawks croons, panting against the villain’s scarred neck. “Shit, that was hot.”

Dabi just grumbles, tossing his sore arms around the hero to hold him close in the afterglow, a turquoise eye peeking open to glare at him when he tries to move. “Stay.”

Hawks snorts, sending feathers out for the washcloth he left in a bowl of water. “There’s cum on your seams.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? If it gets infected and I die, it'll save your ass from what I plan to do to it.” Dabi smirks as he lets his eyes close again. 

Hawks gulps, chuckling nervously. “And if you survive, I’ll just be in more trouble.”

“Mmm, good point.” Dabi mumbles, loosening his hold enough for Hawks to wipe them down before taking advantage of the leverage Hawks leaning back offers to get them to their feet. He laughs at the hero’s squawk as he crowds him against the crate Hawks mentioned earlier. “All I’ve been through, death by cum seems pretty lame.”

Hawks manages to snort before chirping when warm hands find the weak spot between his wings and use it to quickly get him excited again. “Wh-what? No re-shit-recovery time?”

“Two fucking hours,” Dabi growls, referring to how long Hawks said he tortured him in that chair. “And forcing me to beg.”

Heat plays with the extra sensitive feathers against the base of his wings and Hawks feels his legs shake as he moans. “Point taken.”

Yeah, he was definitely in trouble. 

He lets out a surprised chirp when he’s turned around and roughly bent over the crate by a hand on the back of his neck.

Completely worth it. 

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hiiii :3 I already love your writing and characterization so much, its mwah, chefs kiss.

I was wondering if you'd be okay with either a scenario or head canons where Spy and reader are having a contest in which whoever touches the other first loses. Lots of teasing ensues. No pressure! Again, love ur writing! <3

hiiiii <3 Thank you. I try my best to go for a more canon approach when writing the TF2 characters. Glad to see another certified Spy lover in here.

Spy teases Y/N and purposes an offer to them (Mild NSFW)

Warning: uhhhh wholesome cuddles?!?? no way

———————— ———- ———

- Spy is fully aware that you’re incredibly touch starved. Being an older and experienced gentlemen in life and romance, he can’t say the same for himself. He has a long streak of fucking around. This guy is a manwhore. You’re most likely a more younger adult than him. Your relationship is akin to a lion and his ruthless little cub. Sigmund freud is rolling in his grave right now.

- Your undying lust for his touch is quickly noticed by him. It take it upon himself to fiddle around with this knowledge. You hug his arm while he’s standing on the roof of the base smoking. He gently slips his arm away from your tight grasp and runs his fingers through your hair. “I see you are obnoxiously fawning over my presence as always, favori.”

- He cant lie, he kind of enjoys the fact you’re so clingy with him. His pride gets in the way of properly expressing this. He gives you a devilish looking side smile. “I will offer you a proposition. If you can resist my ravishing presence for at least two days, I’ll give you something nice and good.”

- You have no idea what he means by that, but nonetheless a challenge is a challenge and you are quite curious yourself. It’s fine for the first few hours but stress entices you to his warm body again. You oh-so-desperately want to run your fingers across his suit and explore his chest. You frown and watch him carry on his duties from afar.

- During a set-up you approach him while he’s preoccupied with his disguise kit and try and strike up small talk. You need to be around him. Shit’s way too much right now. He eyes you suspiciously as you unconsciously inch closer. “Now, now. Any closer and you might not get your little treat, mon amour.”

- Makes fun of you for being so touch starved on a regular basis. Teases you by decloaking behind you and whispering a series of rather sickly sweet french in your ear whilst nobody’s present. You can feel his calm breath on your neck and said ear. His sleepy demeanor despite the blood and chaos around him oddly helps you relax.

- DAMMIT. you want to hug this guy so bad. You pout at him as you all head back to your quarters for the night and he smiles and taps two fingers on his invis watch. Reminding you that’s it’s only two days. Consider this mercy.

- You come to him after two days. Immediately flopping your entire weight on his body while he reads in his quarters. You knew the desired time was up and you were already burnt out. “Mm. Yes, you’re worse than I thought.” He thoughtfully tells you. Putting his book down on your body and inhaling smoke from his cigar. “Very well, you’ve earned this.”

- To release you from this terrible hell, he plants a kiss on your forehead and brings you up to his chest. Cradling you in his arms easily. He lets loose on you; kissing you and exploring your mouth with his tongue. Petting your head and rubbing you. You’re locked in a fetal position in the man’s big arms so you can’t really do much. Now you know what a chihuahua feels like when its forcibly kissed by its overbearing owner.

- He’s kind of violent by the way. Expect a lot of bites leaving bruises down your neck and blood drawn. He wastes no time manhandling you. Refusing the latter. There’s no way in fucking Mary mother of god’s name he’ll be anything other than in control. He needs to feel in control of this. He respects your boundaries and wishes politely though. Not a bitey person? That’s fine. He’ll be grumpy about it but comply nonetheless with a slightly less harmful kind of torture.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #9

Day 9 - Batboys - "You're a liar"

*

Jason fired his guns with a certain glee. The gang scattered behind cover, yelling at each other for someone to take Jason out.

“Someone can try!” Jason called cheerfully, launching over a dumpster to kick one of the gang members in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Jason easily flipped his gun around in his hand and smacked the butt of it into the man’s temple to knock him out. 

Tim leapt over the crates they were using as cover to take out a few more with smooth, practiced moves. He clearly wasn’t taking as much glee in the mission as Jason, but he didn’t chastise Jason for his fun.

After all, why would he? They were cleaning up a poorer section of Gotham. This gang had formed to prey on the poor who didn’t have transportation or couldn’t afford good security in their homes. They’d break in, steal what little they had, or jump them as they walked or biked home after a hard day of working to feed themselves. 

Just two days ago, they’d jumped two young boys who’d earned some money with a lemonade stand. They boys were on their way home, elated that they had enough money to go on their school field trip at last, when the attack hit them. One boy was left hospitalized. 

Jason could picture so many times he’d walked around after dark. It could’ve been him if he was still young. No little kid deserved that.

Tim had agreed to help him stop the gang when Babs got wind they were planning to pull off a bigger job on a delivery truck tonight. Jason was grateful for the support, because Tim knew what this particular mission meant to Jason. 

And Jason was having a great time making these streets safer for kids like he had been once, right up until he heard the gunshot and Tim’s scream.

“No!” He whipped around, his joy gone in an instant. Tim laid on the ground, blood pooling out from his body, his hands pressed to his abdomen.

Jason barely remembered the next few minutes. He became a whirlwind of furious, protective movement, taking out every single gang member he could get his hands on, barely suppressing the urge to kill the bastards. They deserved it; they all fucking deserved it.

But he held back just enough to knock them out instead. When the last fell, he leapt over the unmoving body and raced to Tim’s side.

“Hey, hey!” he said, grabbing Tim’s wrists and trying to pull them away. “Dammit, let me see, Tim.”

Tim moved his hands and Jason’s face paled at the gunshot wound in his abdomen and the blood pouring from it. He put Tim’s hands back, applying pressure.

“Babs, Tim was shot,” he said into his earpiece, his voice tight. “Get us help. Now.”

She was replying, but he didn’t hear the words. He was too focused on Tim’s face and the way it was contorted in anguish.

This was Jason’s fault. He hadn’t been taking it seriously. He hadn’t been properly watching Tim’s back.

The wound was so bad.

“You’re going to be fine. Just stay with me,” Jason said.

“You’re a liar,” Tim choked out with a weak laugh. Jason was horrified to see blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth. “A good man, but a liar.”

“Tim-”

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not your fault, Jason. I let my guard drop.”

“But-”

“No. It is NOT your fault this happened.”

His voice was fierce despite how weak his movements were growing and how pale he was becoming. The blood just kept coming up between his fingers, spilling out onto the ground.

“You protected…t-those kids. All those p-people,” Tim said, giving a faint smile. “I’m proud of you. P-Proud to help you.”

“Shit,” Jason whispered, feeling the tears in his eyes. “Hang on, you bastard. Don’t you- Just hang on. Please, Tim. Please.”

Tim’s eyes dropped shut. Jason let out a despaired noise and applied more pressure to the wound, knowing it was all he could do as he prayed help came in time and no one else had to die on these streets.

[ao3feed-zentan]

The Brothers Grimm - Story board

The Brothers Grimm - Story board

by Just A Kid Icarus (Lightningstrike5757)

“When happiness is destroyed, it is always followed by the scent of blood.”

     When two orphan boys stumble upon the Kamado family household, the family take them in without question. As the years go by, the two earn their place in the household. The eldest of the two teaches Tanjirou how to fight with a sword and defend the house from wild animals and Oni. The younger of the two helped with chores and added an extra spark to the house. The two were practically family, and so when the boys went down to town for the first time, Tanjuro introduced the two as such.

  “Meet Yoriichi and Muzan, my eldest son and my third son respectively.”

  [This work contains spoilers for the entire upcoming series. If you do not wish to see these spoilers and wait for the series to come out properly, please ignore this book.]

Words: 3314, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of The Brothers Grimm

Fandoms: 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Kibutsuji Muzan, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, Kamado Takeo, Kamado Tanjirou, Kasugaigarasu | Kasugai Crows Ensemble (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Hashibira Inosuke, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Rengoku Kyoujurou, Shinazugawa Genya, Tokitou Muichirou, Kaigaku (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Sabito (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Demon Slayer Corps Hashira | Pillars, Upper Demon Moons Ensemble (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Rui (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Enmu (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Demon Slayer Corps Ensemble (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Tamayo (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Yushiro (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Relationships: Hinatsuru/Makio/Suma/Uzui Tengen, Agatsuma Zenitsu/Kamado Tanjirou, Kibutsuji Muzan & Tsugikuni Yoriichi, Kamado Tanjirou & Kibutsuji Muzan, Kamado Takeo & Kamado Tanjirou, Kamado Takeo & Kibutsuji Muzan, Kamado Takeo & Tsugikuni Yoriichi, Kibutsuji Muzan & Everyone

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Kibutsuji Muzan is OOC, Tsugikuni Yoriichi is OOC, Human Kibutsuji Muzan, Demon Kibutsuji Muzan, Reincarnation, Kitsune Sabito, Everyone forgets the Kakushi exist and I think that's a crime, Some moments are indistinguishable from canon, other times its just like, canon? whats that, Im going to be completely transparent here, I just hate Nezuko, So the first thing I did was kill her, and then spend the rest of the book making Tanjirou as different to her as possible, I wont apologise, If you want Nezuko this isnt for you, Takeo is the god of this world, Takeo is too powerful and cannot be stopped, You can tell who my favourite characters are as they are introduced, i am biased, I am not ashamed, Not Canon Compliant, I wanted Akaza redemption and he said no u, Screw you then I get Kaigaku redemption instead, I'm the writer dammit I'll force you to at least give me that, Yoriichi's grave, Good brother Michikatsu Tsugikuni | Kokushibo, I dont feel anything for Inosuke and it shows, Fanon Muzan is the biggest Diva ever and I'm not sorry, Worldbuilding, so much worldbuilding it hurt while writing, I had to iron out so many plot holes, they kept popping up everywhere like Jigoro's traps, No I will not explain why Muzan or Yoriichi Exist, I make demon Muzan less of a dick, Character Development, The Kizuki are reffered to as the waxing and waning moons, Sorry for the tag dump it still doesnt include everything, Demon Kamado Tanjirou, Demon Slayer Kamado Tanjirou, Demon Slayer Tsugikuni Yoriichi, These will be fixed eventually, Demon Slayer Kibutsuji Muzan, Kakushi Kamado Takeo

From https://ift.tt/JIxEGtp https://archiveofourown.org/works/41153436

[schwarzwaldcr]

“then what do you suggest?” / from Leon 🌿

5-Star RP Prompts

There was something about the tone he used.

Wulf couldn't put her finger on it and her brain twisted and wracked itself for the right word to use. It wasn't condescending, she didn't think. It had the wrong cadence for that, which crossed off 'arrogant' as well. Gott verdammt, what was the word...

"You can take that snide attitude and spin it."

Ah. 'Snide'. There it was, along with a shitty attempt at using American slang. While her English was understandable, she'd hardly call it fluent, and turns-of-phrase and metaphors tended to get lost in translation the most.

The way it was growled out would have put anyone of a lesser constitution on edge, with the frizzing hackles beginning to raise and the glimpse of those slender canines bared from behind locked thoughtful fingers in irritation. It was enough of an energy to make Flotsam turn on his heel to get away when he walked toward her to ask his Guide something. Clearly, she wasn't in the mood for questions.

Some part of her wanted to apologize, really. The snap wasn't necessary. But on the other hand, this wasn't her Zone. She would have already devised several strategies and plans and plots ahead of obstacles if she was in Schwarzwald, tensions would not be abnormally high, and their companion's underhanded snarks would be properly ignored.

The pass ahead was blocked, that much was clear, and going back to find a new path was dangerous now. That was an instinctive rule of thumb in all Zones, she was sure, and all stalkers felt that way. The walls on either side were high and steep and the only other means to escape would very likely be met with the same resistance from her comrades as with the American in their midst.

In essence, this was a clever Trap, innocuous in its design with the questionably-creaking pile of boulders in front of them just out of sight of the main path, steep seemingly-impassible walls, and only one entrance with no obvious exit. The infant Zone was beginning to show its personality now, and that made the going a little more unstable.

">>I should have thrown a rock to see where it landed...<<" she muttered under her breath in her native German, feeling fairly confident that if it did what it was supposed to do, they could have avoided this entirely.

Dammit...

She looked over her shoulder toward where her trio of Foresters stood in anxious silent wait, eyeing the prison around them with perhaps a little less unease as they would in open air. Even she had to admit that compared to the majority of this Zone with its constant window to the sky, the chasm here felt more like home. Comfortable. A sliver of sky was all they needed, though she would rather it be trees instead of rock. Beggars can't be choosers, though...

What do you suggest...

Reminded again that they had to get out of here as soon as possible, and the memory of that tone of voice only served to spur the gears into turning. Which meant she had to go back to basics. How does one get out of a Trap designed like this...

Once more, she addressed her native fellows in German, watching them all snap to attention. ">>I need you to check the walls in this bubble. Test to see if anything changed, don't stop at ground level. Go up the walls. Tell me if something is different...<<"

The emphasis on that word was universally recognized among the other three and with a half-assed salute from Flotsam and Fennec's surprisingly smooth 'Rightio!', all three of them set off to do the tasks given to them. With the heavier workload delegated to a group she knew she could trust to know what they were doing with such things as Traps, anomalies, and the Zone-usual pockets of general unreality, she gave a sigh and looked over her shoulder toward the resident American.

"Alright. I am suggesting a thing. It is time to earn your right as a true stalker, Ivy. Catch."

She tossed a small pouch at him, the formed flap well-worn from years of dedicated use and snapped shut. It was of fair weight and shifted a little awkwardly if caught, but a peak inside would show a substantial collection of small rocks and pebbles, likely from various slate slag piles located around the mountain cliffs.

"I need you to start tossing these one by one around the rockslide. If it hits something that is not right, tell me where it is. Alright?"

She figured he would ask any questions before she went off on her own task, but if he had none, she would not keep him. The intention for such rigorous testing would be revealed later, but before Leon would have any chance to ask anything, she finished with, "And make sure you stay on the ground, ja? Do not try to ... climb anything. I do not know how high the Walls in here are yet..."

@nights-fear

[unholyretributioncomes]

How I Would Bring Back Ben Solo

I keep seeing stuff about Ben Solo not being dead. Now I love the character, and I wish he had a better redemption arc than he was given, and was allowed to live so he could properly atone for his mistakes and work to fix them. But bringing him back has to be done even more carefully. So here is what I currently have for that story- including satisfying arcs for the characters who were stripped of everything that we loved about them. Note: this is a WIP. It is in no way finished, and the intended arcs I have for each character has not yet been written for fully fleshed out.

These arcs include Finn finding a purpose for himself outside of Rey and war. Rose getting some proper closure and maybe having a similar arc to Finn. Poe dealing with post-war stuff including prejudices and trauma. Chewie and Rey being a proper family.

1) Possible comic or animated series. A one movie or three might not be enough or would allow for too many essential cuts

2) While the focus would be on Ben Solo, have regular cuts to Rey and the others

3) Make sure it is clear that this isn't just him getting closer, it is also him atoning for anything he has done as Kylo Ren

4) The story: Ben Solo wakes up either on an Exegol looking area (where he "died" at the end of TROS) or some other dark, empty space that is fairly featureless and void of any other signs of life.

He begins looking around for Rey, and only barely being able to Force, is only able to tell that she is in fact alive and well.

Sensing something off about this place, he grabs the lightsaber that is with him (at first it seems to be Luke's but later on possibly is revealed to be Leia's either by similarity in look or some sort of veil that had been shielding it, though that is revealed later on) and proceeds to look for a way out.

Thus begins his journey.

Cut to Rey.

On a planet, possibly with the group, but is taking some time to herself to meditate and reflect. She then feels a familiar presence: Ben. She calls out to him, but receives no response, only able to feel him there. A member of the group arrives (Finn or Chewie) and asks her what is up, and in their talk, she is able to realize that Ben Solo is alive and somewhere out there in the Galaxy and she declares she is going to go find him.

Cut back to Ben.

Everything is looking exactly the same and he is feeling more lost by the minute. He pauses to take a break as it is clear he is either still exhausted from the fight or been walking for hours. He then feels her: Rey. He calls out, but also receives no response. He calls again and again (possibly only seeing a flickering, weak image of her) before he gives up and gives his voice a break. Loneliness sinks in.

Sliding to the ground, his mind starts to process what has happened. He thought he became one with the Force, but that doesn’t seem to have happened. That temptation to the dark is still there, but he is more stable in the light. He is completely alone. There aren’t even any bodies of dead Sith or the Knights of Ren. He begins to wonder if this is his punishment for the things he did while consumed by the dark.

A voice echoes through the emptiness, one he has not heard in person in years, but knows anywhere: his mother, encouraging him to get up. He leaps to his feet and looks around, but doesn’t see her. He hears her voice again, telling him to keep going, and that she is waiting for him.

Without a second thought, he begins running towards his mother’s voice, calling out to her, and while never receiving a direct reply, is continually encouraged by her voice.

Cut back to Rey.

She has shared her discovery with the group (Poe, Finn, Chewie, BB-8, R2, C3PO, and possibly Rose). Finn and Poe and understandably upset by this revelation and when Rey suggests they go after him, are adamantly against it, Poe even going so far as to say that wherever he is rotting away in both body and mind, that it is what he deserves.

Angered by this Rey begins defending him, saying that if Luke can turn Darth Vader to the light and back into Anakin, then why shouldn’t Kylo be allowed to become Ben again as well. Poe argues that while Luke managed that, Darth Vader died before anything could come of it so it wasn’t like it mattered for any other reason than a good story.

Rey bites back that if Ben is indeed alive, then unlike Vader and Anakin, he has the chance to work to atone for his sins and deserves the chance to right his wrongs.

Poe stands firm that whatever fate Kylo Ren is facing is likely the one he deserves.

Rey tells him that she is going to go out looking for him, with or without anyone’s help and nothing will stop her from doing so.

After some silence as Rey waits for reactions/replies, Chewie stands and proclaims he will go with her and they can take the Falcon. 3PO and R2 are instantly on board with this as well. Eyes turn to Finn, waiting to see what side he takes.

Finn, still attached to Rey as she was the first person outside of the First Order he spent more than a few hours with, struggles to agree as he does feel similarly to Poe and also feels that attachment to Poe. With some coaxing from BB-8 (Either having learned to speak Droid or having it translated by 3PO) he agrees to go.

Poe is angered by BB-8’s seeming betrayal and goes on a rant. But after some more coaxing he eventually agrees to go on the condition that he gets one free hit in if/when they find him.

Rey smiles and they begin preparations to go searching.

Cut back to Ben

His mother’s voice has since faded, and he has slowed to cautious steps as he continues on his journey. Surroundings still haven’t changed and he questions if he has been going in circles and having seen no other paths, begins debating if he should maybe start trying to find a way to climb up.

Sensing danger, he ignites the lightsaber and begins combat with whatever comes to attack him.

When the fight is over, a voice compliments Ben’s form in the fight. Ben turns and there is Luke standing there. Ben lashes out and tries to kill Luke despite clearly seeing him as a Force Ghost.

Luke asks him the source of his anger and Ben yells at him. That Luke tried to kill him for things he hadn’t done yet. That rather than sit him down and talk with him about it, tried to destroy something that had yet to actually become a threat. That he was never given the chance to choose.

Luke tries to apologize, but Ben ignores him, and with his saber still lit, begins to continue to walk. Ben doesn’t want to deal with Luke, ghost or otherwise.

Cut to Rey

Rey starts her journey by doing research. She talks with people who knew of the Jedi and other records to see if she can find where Ben might have turned up.

Poe helps with some of his more powerful Resistance contacts, though many are busy helping to rebuild the Republic, so getting a hold of them isn’t easy. Maz, however, is a godsend and shows up when she hears Rey is studying something specific.

She asks what is going on, and Rey and Chewie explain that Ben is alive. That Rey can feel him still out there, and unlike Luke or Leia, he isn’t a ghost. And that in trying to contact Luke, she met another ghost of a Jedi named Obi-wan Kenobi, who she had only ever heard about, and he confirmed that yes, Ben is alive.

Maz is certainly surprised, but joins the party to help find Solo’s wayward son, commenting on how much Ben is actually like Han and of course he would be too stubborn to die.

While this is being explained, Poe looks over to Finn who seems rather distant and not quite paying attention. Poe asks what’s up and Finn tries to brush it off.

Poe pries because Finn has been zoning more and more since the war ended. Finn relents and explains that he has been thinking about the past and about the future. He explains how all he had ever known was the strict regiment and warmongering of the First Order before Poe came along and after defecting, while he did finally get some affection, he mostly got the passion and determination of the Resistance, both busy fighting war. He has never known his life without war or the threat of war.

Poe listens and asks Finn what he wants to do. Finn says he doesn’t know. He knows there is really no chance that he will ever find his parents and very little chance that he will ever even know what planet he was taken from. And now that there is no more fighting, he doesn’t even really know who he is. Just that FN-2187 is gone and Finn is someone he has yet to really figure out.

Poe reminds him that everyone with him sees him as family, and that even if he can’t find his birth family, that he has one here. Finn assures him that he knows that, but that maybe having something to go on for his past that isn’t all about soldiering might help him figure out what he wants to do with the future.

Rose understands the feeling as she has been having similar problems, torn between trying to live a comfortable life, or do something that might be worthwhile, and that all the plans she had originally thought of had all involved her sister in some way and now without her, she isn’t sure she can go through with some of them.

Poe then explains that he will talk to some other of his contacts and see if they can’t find something for Finn, such as maybe a list of systems the First Order preferred to take their soldiers from. Finn gets a little excited and thanks them both.

Cut back to Ben

The area is quiet, Ben has stopped running, and a fog has settled over the area. He can see the walls around him, but cannot see forward and cannot see back. He has the saber ignited and is taking cautious steps, trying to sense everything he can in his surroundings. All around him are whispering voices. Voices that are very familiar to him. At first their whispers seem to be about nothing, and occasionally giggling, but then they seem to notice Ben.

They at first start whispering about him, making comments on how he has gotten older and maybe lamenting they wish they could have too. Then their comments turn bitter, and they start talking about negative aspects of him without talking to him.

Ben tries to interact with these voices, and the area suddenly gets very cold and the whispers harsh. They do start talking to him, angry at him, wind blowing around him as if someone is trying to push him this way and that. In their anger they ask if any of the good times, the good memories they shared meant nothing to him.

Ben asks them who they are and they are insulted that he has to ask.

The fog fades away and he is surrounded by the ghosts of other students at Luke’s Jedi school. They are the students that he killed. They all begin shouting at him, at first taking turns before their voices sync to fully cry out their anger at their deaths.

Ben, knowing he has no way to justify his actions towards these students, begins frantically apologizing and asking how he can prove his remorse, covering his ears as the voices drown out his apologies and over-taking everything else.

The saber has fallen from his hands, going out in the process, and he sinks to his knees as he feels suffocated by the shouting.

In an instant, everything goes silent. Ben hesitantly lowers his hands and raises his head to see the youngest student of the school before him, all the others standing behind them, just looking at them. The youngest asks him if he is truly sorry and if he really regrets it.

Ben says yes, explaining how wrong he was about the dark side. That he never should have done what he had done to the students, and that he wants to be better. He can’t take back what he has done, but if he could, he would in a heartbeat. That he never forgot their deaths, and despite his efforts during his dark times, could never shed the guilt of them.

The youngest asks if he truly means that, will he promise to be better. Will he promise to try and help people if they forgive him.

Ben, still on his knees, tears in his eyes, says yes. His voice is quiet, but his words weighted with all the sincerity and guilt and remorse that he has.

The ghosts smile at them and the youngest bends down and picks up his lightsaber before handing it to him. “Then keep going. We forgive you.”

With a shaking hand, Ben takes the lightsaber, looking at it before looking back at the ghosts as they all fade away leaving him alone. He takes a moment to process what has happened, what he just experienced before letting himself cry, the guilt of his actions digging into his chest, clearly causing him pain, but also feeling a great sense of relief and like a weight has been taken off of his shoulders. One of these emotions alone would be too much for anyone, but both of them together keeps him from even being able to stand.

 -unwritten section-

After searching for so long Rey finds the answers she had been looking for and heads with the group to go and try to find Ben.

 As Ben reaches the end of his journey and is about to enter the land of the living, he is stopped by one more battle. Before him are four figures dressed in black, all of whom he has seen before in some fashion. One is the grandfather he idolized: Darth Vader. One is the man who had twisted his mind for years: Snoke. One is Puppeteer behind all of pain the galaxy has suffered for easily the last half-century: Palpatine. And the last one is the one that both takes Ben by surprise, but also the one he had been preparing for: himself- or rather- Kylo Ren.

Kylo steps forward and begins talking, voice distorted by the cracked mask. “Did you think you would be free? Did you forget the power of the Dark Side? There is no escaping the Darkness! You belong to the Darkness and therefore- to us!”

Leia’s saber in hand, he ignites it and braces, as the four figures do the same. Knowing the power of the people before him, he is expecting this to be a losing fight, but he is still going to put his heart and soul into it.

“Nice to see we’re not too late.”

The slightly gravely voice catches Ben off guard and makes him turn. They have the telltale blue glow of those passed on, one in the Force. Appearing on either side of him, each facing a member of the Sith that are blocking his path, are his real grandfather- Anakin ready to face Vader. His mother, giving him a loving smile and placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder as her eyes harden in an all too familiar look when she is about to eviscerate someone, a look aimed at Snoke that visibly shakes the Sith. And either Luke or Padme who their weapon in hand and facing Palpatine, making a comment about not making the mistake of letting this man live to walk away again.

With these allies, the fight begins. Snoke falls first as no amount of power can fully brace this being for the extent of a mother’s wrath while she protects her child.

Palpatine falls next. Luke/Padme doesn’t dilly dally, doesn’t give him the chance to brag or monologue or charge up an attack. He is executed plain and simple.

Vader is next. Given that he is kind of fighting himself, Anakin does struggle as he knows all the moves and has to change his fighting style and strategy a little bit. The kill is quick, but comes after a bit of a fight as Anakin is laying his regrets and the darkness in them to rest with the end of Vader.

Finally Ben is left with Kylo. Blue clashes with red in quick and angry strikes on both ends. Kylo taunts Ben constantly about the dark side and how it took him over. About how he will never be free of it and no one will ever truly accept him. It is a very hard fight, but one he must fight alone. It ends when Ben swings and cuts part of the mask off, revealing his own face, which stuns Kylo for a moment, before Ben without hesitation runs him through declaring that it doesn’t matter if the rest of the galaxy forgives him, the people that matter to him do and most of all, he forgives himself.

Once Kylo falls, and his body disappears, Ben gets a small reunion with his family. Han shows up for this brief moment and after some hugs and praises about how proud they are of him, as well as promises to be better and make the galaxy better, he is ready to leave, though his eyes are wet and red.

He goes through the final portal/ door, and the first thing he registers is he can’t breathe.

 Above the lake/ ocean of the ancient site, Rey and the others are looking down, trying to find where Ben is.

Rey suddenly feels him, strong and sure as if he were next to them, and she points them in the right direction where a light can be seen under the water’s surface for the briefest moment.

Unable to really truly swim, neither Rey or Finn can go down. Rose is handed the controls and Poe and Chewie open the hatch of the Falcon and once ready to get pulled back up, jump into the water.

They find Ben, close to the surface, but still under it, and pull him out, before being raised to the Falcon where Rey immediately starts calling out to him, noticing he is very pale, and his whole body is cold, as if dead.

Poe raises his fist before slamming it down hard on Kylo’s chest making the man jolt at the sudden pain before coughing up water. Poe grins at Rey before looking at Ben. “Just so you know, that doesn’t count as my free shot.”

Ben looks confused as he is finally able to focus his vision, but before he can do anything, a big, wet, hairy being his holding him almost too tightly, making it difficult to breathe. Despite the suddenness of it, it is one that -while soggy- is instantly familiar and one he is quick to return and relish.

Chewie finally pulls away before smacking Ben upside the head, just barely hard enough to hurt before going into a long lecture that has Ben smiling fondly at the Wookie.

When he looks at Poe, confused, Poe holds up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. Besides, it’s her you should be thanking.” He points at Rey and prompts Ben to look at her. “She’s the one that never lost faith in you.”

Que Rey and Ben reunion.

[frostbittenbucky]

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

Worlds Greatest Detective

Had fucked up

Bruce Wayne isn’t a slob, he’s not lazy- he is the complete opposite of his persona “Brucie Wayne”, who is a lazy pampered prince. But Bruce Wayne? Never.

So after Bruce finishes a snack he washes his dishes like any civilized human would do- or else Alfred would have some very choice words and some very petty actions towards him. It’s a simple task, take off his rings, run the water, apply the soap, scrub then rinse.

Simple.

But someone tell Bruce how the hell he managed to drop his ring down the drain? And someone tell Bruce why the didn’t stop for a moment and think before shoving his hand down the drain?

He fucked up. Now he’s stuck. But Bruce Wayne is a genius, he can get himself out of this silly situation. So he tries pulling... and pulling... and pulling. Ok, next option, lubricant. Soap will do. So Bruce proceeds to pour a generous amount of soap around his hand, he moves it around to make sure it’s coated, then he pulls. And pulls. Ok so next move.

What’s the next move?

He groaned loudly, thinking how utterly ridiculous and stupid this situation is. “Ok... dammit,” he muttered to himself. He decided to reach for his phone and-

Shit. It’s on the kitchen island directly behind him, where it’s just out of his reach. Why did he do that? Oh right, because he got water in his speaker last time. Right. Perfect. Wonderful.

“Alfred?” He called out, “Alfred, Damian are you still here?” No response. Shitshitshitshitshitgodammitshitshit.

Maybe he can reach his phone? He thought. So with all his grace he leaned towards to island, swishing at the air in hopes his phone would magically come into his hand. Nah.

Leg, his leg might reach. It’s longer than his arm, and his can get some torso length in there. Lifting his leg and leaning his body out he kicks at the counter, his brows furrowed. Fuck. Bruce is very flexible, but his leg and torso are extended to the fullest human capacity, and fuck why are these countered so spaced out?!

Bruce pulls his body back and lays his forehead on the cold countertop, trying to push down the rage that’s building up in his chest. This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid. “Is anybody home? Stephanie? Jason? Ca- not you, Titus,” He lifted his head from the counter and looked to his right, and there Titus stood in front of Bruce, wanting to investigate the noise. Seeing nothing interesting Titus tilted his head and gave a “boof” before turning out and leaving him to his own demise, “no wait,” Bruce reached out for the dog who already made up his mind.

So there he stood.

Bruce Wayne

The Batman

The Dark Knight

The Worlds Greatest Detective

Dumbass

Knowing he now has to swallow his pride and go into his next move, he groans loudly. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s called when it wasn’t anything life threatening. Sure, it’s rare, but it does happen. Plus, he always understands, and by now he knows the differences between help and help. But Bruce knew there would be consequences... because he isn’t scared of Bruce, all his intimidation tactics fall short, completely on deaf ears around him.

“Clark,” his voice sounded almost like a whine, his voice was a little hoarse from literally forcing the words past his lips, “if you’re not busy I need a hand.”

Just as soon as his finished his sentence Clark was stood in front of him, flannel, glasses, and cowboy boots, “howdy.” Bruce closed his eyes at Clark’s greeting, then opened them to send him a hard glare, “what’s seems to be the problem, Bruce?” A wide and knowing grin spread across Clark’s face. X-ray vision. No explanation needed. Sure friends help friends in their times of need. But best friends? Oh yea, Bruce had to earn his help by paying the high price of humiliation.

“Just hand me my phone, Clark,” pointing at the device just out of reach.

A shocked and confused looked replaced Clark’s smile, “oh, this? This phone right here?” He also pointed, walking to grab the device, “you don’t happen to have Face ID do you?”

“No, I w-“ It was a lie. Clark know had opened his phone just by turning it to Bruce’s face. A sigh left his body, was this price worth his freedom? Probably not.

“Hold on, B, I’m not dressed properly. This is a rescue after all,” and just in a blink of an eye Superman now stood in front of a tired looking Bruce, having no choice of his front vow seat the shit show that was about to unfold. Clark lifted the phone and snapped a couple selfies with Bruce, grinning his charming smile that the world adored him for. Bruce looked like a hungover raccoon, putting it kindly.

“Are your done? Just get me out and I’ll buy you a horse or something.”

“Aw, you do care. I knew you were listening when I told you about that pony farm,” Clark didn’t bother to look up from the phone, tapping away at the screen, “oh Bruce, your groupchat is named ‘family’?”

His eyes widen, “don’t you da-“

“-Isn’t Dick a firefighter? I think that he’s better for this job,” Clark announced, taking a seat on the island that just out of reach, “I hope you understand Mr. Wayne, I’m glad to offer help but them seems like a job for our local emergency service.”

“If you call 911,” Bruce growled, gritting his teeth together, leaning towards the other man and close as possible, “I swear.”

Scoffing, Clark waves him off, “of course not, why would I waste a 911 operators time? There’s people who need real help out there. I’m calling Dick directly.” Once again, is the price of freedom worth it?

————-

“Fireman Dick Grayson reporting for duty!” Cried his oldest child with two other firman following close behind, “hey pops I h- is that Superman?” He faked a gasped, clutching his chest.

The group chat had blown up by now. A series of text and FaceTime calls followed shortly after.

Damian: “Tt. Father this is utterly disappointing”

Bruce: “Sorry to be disappointing, kiddo”

Stephanie: “lmfaoooo I’m coming over. Be there in 10 don’t escape until I get there”

Jason: *screenshot of the photo of Superman and Bruce posted on Twitter with the caption: “when your dad panics and calls Superman”

Jason: *another screenshot of a multitude of replies along the lines, “what are you doing step bro?” “What are your doing Superman?”*

Duke: “the mighty Batman has finally met his match. A kitchen sink”

Cassandra: “😆😆😂🤣😬🤔🧠🤷🏻‍♀️💕💕💗💓💖”

Bruce: “thank you, Cassandra. I think.”

Stephanie: “imma do a live when I get there 🤣”

Tim: “you know we’re not going to let you live this down right b?”

Dick: “dumbasssssss”

Dick: “don’t worry B I’ll be there to rescue you shortly”

Bruce: “I can unadopt all of you.”

Alfred: “master Bruce, please word yourself properly. “Unadopt” isn’t a real word.”

Bruce: “Sorry, Alfred.”

So now that official rescue crew has arrived he expected this to be a quick and professional release. Nah. Dick, his oldest, his light in the dark, his son, his baby boy, is an asshole.

Dick started taking his own selfies with Bruce and Superman. Dick and Clark wore bright smiles, full of perfect teeth and glimmering eyes. Bruce, again, looked like a mess. He was wearing an old shirt, old sweatpants, no makeup on, his hair an untamed, scattered, frizzy mess. He should’ve conditioned, but he wasn’t expecting to go out today or have any photos done today.

The price of freedom is high, but not worth it.



[arrowflier]

Oh my goodness, my heart literally soared with your FrannyxUncles speedwrite. What about Uncle Mickey helping Franny through their first heartbreak? Thank you for these gems!

Mickey is clearing the table when he hears it. Feet shuffling, out on the porch. Quiet breaths, shaky, a hiccup and a sniff before it clears again.

He stops what he’s doing. Strains his ears, steps toward the closer. Hears it again, followed by a soft “dammit,” that has him frowning and throwing open the door.

Red hair splays over the wooden floor as the person outside falls in, blue eyes wide and wet and looking up at him.

“Franny?” Mickey asks, staring at his niece’s upside-down face. “The fuck are you doing here?”

The only answer he gets is more tears.

“So who do I gotta kill?” he asks some time later, crouched on the floor next to Franny where she sits against the wall, her knees pulled up and hands tight around her own shins.

“Nobody,” Franny mutters, wiping her face with the heel of one hand. Mickey hands her the dish towel he had been using, damp and forgotten, but she brushes it away.

“Where does Nobody live?” he asks, only half joking, but it gets him a wet laugh anyway.

“In Josie Connor’s house,” she answers, and grabs for the towel after all. Blows her nose in it, wrings it between her hands, and adds, “where I’m not allowed anymore.”

Mickey waits. Watches her. Remembers the little girl Franny’s been attached to at the hip since they were seven and Josie moved in across the street from him and Ian, the day Franny scared the shit out of him by running clear across the street to introduce herself.

“Isn’t she like, your bfg or something?” Mickey asks when no more details are forthcoming. It earns him an eye roll, a good sign if anything is, and Franny’s flat look.

“That’s a movie, Uncle Mickey,” she says dryly, but her tears are drying up too.

“Whatever,” he grunts back, finally flopping properly to the ground instead of sitting on his heels. He puts his back against the wall next to Franny’s, stretches his legs out in front of him, and scoots just close enough their arms tough.

“You know what I meant,” he says, and doesn’t mention it when she leans a little closer. “You two were so close we practically adopted her, so what the fuck happened?”

Franny sighs, her head on his shoulder now. A light weight, barely there, her hair tickling at his neck.

“She got a boyfriend,” she tells him morosely, staring at the torn knee of her jeans. “And now she doesn’t have time for me anymore.”

Mickey rests his head on hers, his cheek against her crown.

“A boyfriend?” he repeats, hiding his frown where she can’t see. “She’s what, twelve?”

“Thirteen, like me,” Franny says, and she shakes with a humorless laugh. “She said it’s about time,” she continues bitterly, “and I need to get a move on to if I don’t wanna be alone.”

Mickey sits with her. Lets her stew in it. Then pokes her in the side, just a little bit rough.

“You want a boyfriend?” he asks gruffly, and she lifts her head to look at him.

“Not really,” she confesses. “At least, not yet.”

“Good.” Mickey nods. Short, decisive. “You can’t have one.”

“Uncle Mickey…”

“And if she’s gonna be a bitch about it,” Mickey goes on, ignoring her, “you don’t need her anyway.”

Franny looks down again. He reaches out, chucks her under the chin.

“Hey, look at me,” he orders, and waits until she does. Her eyes are dryer, now, even if her face is still drawn.

“You know that, right?” he asks her, and won’t let her look away. “You know you don’t gotta do shit for people to fuckin’ like you?”

“I know,” Franny says softly. “I do.”

“Good.”

He lets go of her face, leans back against the wall. Picks at the towel Franny had discarded again sometime during their conversation, and changes the subject.

“So why’d you end up here, anyway?” he asks. “Weren’t expectin’ you tonight, Ian just went out.”

She bites her lip, and glances toward the door.

“I…” She trails off.

Mickey’s brow furrows. He sits up again, looks closer.

“I, what?” he prompts. “Spit it out, kid, it’s just me.”

Franny shakes her head, but complies.

“I might have been on my way to her house before I stopped?” she says, almost a question.

“To do what?” Mickey asks. “Thought you said she didn’t want you there.”

She doesn’t answer. But she does look to the door again, rubbing suddenly damp palms on the denim at her thighs, and Mickey’s eyes narrow.

“To do what, Franny?” he asks again. “And why’s it got you lookin’ like you wanna bolt?”

Franny chews her lip for a second more, then stands without answering. Goes to the door as he stares, perlexed, and opens it. Bends down and grabs a bag he hadn’t noticed before.

He watches as she reaches inside, and slowly pulls out…

An egg carton.

“I might have been on my way to her house…” Franny starts, pauses. Starts again. “To egg it?”

Her voice is thin and high, like she thinks he’s going to be mad. He stands up slowly, feet to floor, hand to wall. Takes two steps toward her that echo through the house.

Reaches out and takes the egg carton, and walks right past her out the door.

“Well come on then, little red,” he calls back to her. “Lock that door for me, and let’s go egg a fuckin’ house.”

[anika-ann]

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

 There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

 “Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

 Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

 This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

 The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

 There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

 Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” –  a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it.  “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

 Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

 You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*✧･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

[moodymelanist]

can you do just the valkyries getting ready to go to the club?with all the "omg, see the text he just send me", "what are you wearing", " can you borrow me those shoes" "can you do my eyeliner pls" you know :p

posting this one today in honor of @valkyriesweek! one of my favorite parts about acosf was seeing these three interact and I love their friendship so so much. I hope you all enjoy! 💙

Nesta was going to lose her mind within the next five minutes.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she fumed as she tore through Gwyn’s closet. She and Emerie had decided to get ready at Gwyn’s apartment to go out tonight for Gwyn’s birthday, but the redhead had decided at the last minute that she’d hated everything in her closet and had to find something new to wear.

“I look horrible in that dress and you know it, Nesta!” Gwyn called out from the bathroom. “Just help me find something — ow, Em!”

Emerie was in the bathroom doing something with Gwyn’s hair, trying to coax Gwyn’s normally straight locks into something…. well, less straight. Nesta supposed Emerie had given up on coaxing and had gone straight into forcing territory.

“Stop moving so much,” Emerie demanded. “Just stay still, dammit!”

Nesta snickered under her breath as she continued looking through clothes. Gwyn had decided on a cute green dress before deciding she actually hated it, so it seemed best to stay away from the color. Maybe something blue, to match her eyes? Or perhaps black, to match what Emerie and Nesta already had on.

Nesta pulled a couple of dresses and returned to the bathroom, watching as Emerie placed the final clip onto Gwyn’s head. Emerie had managed to get Gwyn’s hair into pin curls and began spraying hairspray rather liberally in the hopes that the curls would set.

“I found a couple of things,” Nesta said once she’d finished coughing up a lung from the smell of hairspray. “I think you should go with the black one, but it’s your birthday so it’s up to you.”

“Go with the black,” Emerie said from over Gwyn’s shoulder. “You always look good in black.”

“Okay, okay,” Gwyn said, chuckling. “I’ll go with that one.”

Nesta turned towards the mirror to finish touching up her own makeup while Gwyn walked into her bedroom to change. Emerie was fiddling with her own hair now, using a brush to smooth back her thick hair into a high ponytail.

“Have you seen my eyeliner?” Nesta asked while she blended out her eyeshadow. Emerie handed it over and went back to her hair, Nesta murmuring her thanks while she leaned close to the mirror.

“Gwyn, Nesta needs your help with her lashes!” Emerie said loudly.

If there was one thing Nesta was terrible at, it was applying her own fake lashes. She just couldn’t seem to get them to sit properly on her eyes, but Gwyn was a natural at it, so she’d long given up on trying to apply them on her own. Emerie moved out of the way so Nesta could close the toilet seat and sit down on it while she waited for Gwyn.

Nesta and Emerie both looked over and grinned widely as Gwyn came back into the bathroom. The black dress was tight in all the right places and would make her bright hair stand out even more than usual, perfect for a night where all the attention would be on her anyways.

“You look hot,” Emerie said, nodding in approval. “The lesbian community thanks you for your service.”

“As does the bisexual community,” Nesta added. Emerie reached out for a high five and they both laughed as they slapped their hands together.

“You don’t think it’s too much, do you?” Gwyn asked nervously. She walked over next to Emerie and examined herself in the mirror, turning to look at the dress from various angles.

“It’s your birthday. You should be doing too much,” Emerie replied.

“You’re right,” Gwyn said decisively. She reached over to grab the eyelash glue and a pair of tweezers before walking over to Nesta. “Close your eyes.”

Ten minutes later everyone was finally ready to go. Nesta had stolen a pair of shoes from Gwyn’s closet and promised to return them, while Emerie wore the shoes Nesta was originally going to wear. Gwyn looked absolutely stunning with her hair down and her heels on, and Nesta knew there was no way any of them were paying for drinks tonight.

“To Gwyn, the girl with endless beauty and ridiculous brains,” Emerie toasted, holding up her shot glass. The three of them had decided to take a drink before heading out, knowing they would need it to help stay warm. Gwyn had pulled out shot glasses with a pegasus on each one, which earned a laugh from everyone.

“To Gwyn,” Nesta repeated. She held up her shot glass and looked over at her friends with a smile. “To another year of life and crazy ass shenanigans. We love you.”

“Oh, you two,” Gwyn said. She grinned widely and held up her shot glass and clinked it against theirs before they all tossed their shots back. “Tonight’s going to be epic. I love you both so much.”

[starlight-loki]

hc for the morning after tony's party where you found loki drunk and he confessed to you and generally was acting silly, so you thought it was just thor's alcohol. so you get him to his bed, and when he wakes up he is obviously panicking, thinking about how many emotions he showed last night blah blah blah... and then you can make it fluffyyyy

this.

THIS.

THISSSS

Yes times a million, anon! Especially after yesterday’s fic, I’m more than happy to write this happy lil hc

It was Steve’s birthday, and Tony had a brilliant idea that he’d try to give him a taste of home

well, ‘home’ meaning 1940s New York

He had big band jazz blasting through the speakers, cleared all the furniture and installed an actual dance floor in the living room, and even gotten Rhodey and Bucky to help him string fairy lights throughout the Compound

The entire thing was so magical

Tony requested everyone dress formally, and you felt your heart nearly stop in your chest as your gaze landed on Loki

He was wearing, to your surprise, something other than green or black or both

He had on a navy blue suit, and damn you never realized how much that colour suited him

Loki had his back to you as he spoke with Thor, and you allowed yourself an extra second or two to take in how nicely he was dressed

until, of course, Thor caught your eye and started waving at you excitedly

Loki turned around and flashed you a small smile, but not before you caught him also looking you up and down

you told yourself it was just your imagination, and tried your best to stop your heart from racing as you began making your way over to say hello

just before you could approach the two Asgardians, however, Tony started blasting some really lively big band jazz over the speakers, and to your utter surprise, Bucky approached you with a grin

"This was my favourite song growing up," he had to raise his voice over the music as he spoke. "Would you like to dance?"

That boy looked so excited, there was no way you could turn down his offer

Besides, the night was just beginning, you'd have plenty of time to chat (and hopefully dance) with Loki

What you didn't see, though, was the absolute death glare Loki sent Bucky as soon as he pulled you onto the dance floor

moving away from the party, he settled down on a stool at the bar

Thor saw a flask materialize in his hand, and he frowned

but then he followed Loki's gaze, and noticed it led directly to you, as you were laughing along with Bucky and trying to stay in time with the music

Thor realized what was going on, and he had to hide his smile

Because you'd confided your feelings about Loki to Thor once, when the two of you were up early one morning

You hadn't intended for it to slip out, but Thor had asked you for relationship advice with Jane, and one thing led to another and before you knew it you were venting to Thor about how infuriating Loki could be one minute, and how adorable he could be the next

of course, you made Thor swear on his life that he wouldn't say anything because you weren't ready to put your friendship with Loki at risk just yet

When the song finally ended and you excused yourself from Bucky with a grateful hug and a smile, you were surprised to find Thor waiting for you by the edge of the dance floor

"I believe my brother may be in need of your company."

He gave you a wink, and for a minute your heart dropped in your chest

you gave Thor a wide-eyed 'how could you tell him!?' stare, only to have him shake his head

"I still haven't said anything, I swear on my father. But... well, go see for yourself."

Thor left you with a gentle pat on the back, and you frowned as you noticed Loki hunched over at the bar

was he... talking to himself?

"Hey, Loke. You okay?"

your question earned a larger-than-necessary laugh from the god, and he nearly fell off the stool as he turned to face you

"I assure you, Y/N, I'm wonnnderfulll."

"Oh my god. Are you drunk? I thought you couldn't get drunk on Midgardian liquor?"

In response, he holds up a small silver flask, nearly dumping the contents all over the bar and himself while doing so

"It's not Midgardian." he mumbled, winking at you before taking another swig

it seemed as though Loki was getting drunker with every sip from the flask

Needless to say, you didn't stay much longer at Steve's birthday party

instead, you helped Loki up from the bar and wrapped an arm around his shoulder as you half-guided, half-carried the poor guy back to his room

"What happened to you tonight?" you asked as you reached his room. Loki just kinda... fell on his bed with a plonk

"Ye should as' yer boyfrien' tha'"

oh god, Loki was so drunk, you could barely understand him

"My boyfriend- Loki! That was just a dance! Bucky and I are just friends and you know that."

"I want'd t'dance wit'ye first. You look'd sooooo beautiful."

You froze. This was the alcohol talking, not Loki.

"You need to rest," you whispered, stepped towards his door. Loki protested, reaching towards you as if he could somehow pull you back from where he was on the bed.

"No, I need you."

There it was again, dammit. False hope in the form of alcohol.

"I love you, Y/N. Why can't ye see tha'?"

"I love you too, Loki." You whispered, knowing your confession would be quickly forgotten by the Asgardian the next morning. "I  just wish you would've told me sooner. And more sober."

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, and he tries to pull you closer to kiss you properly, but you shake your head and move away.

"This isn't fair for either of us. Come find me in the morning if you remember, okay?"

The next morning, you couldn't help but laugh as Loki stumbled into the kitchen, wincing at the harsh lights

"Rough night there, Reindeer Games?" Tony asked from the table. You could see the smirk on his face from miles away

Loki just shook his head, and instead made his way towards you

Your heart pounded as you recalled what happened last night, but you doubted he remembered

"How are you feeling?" you asked, passing the cereal over to Loki and moving out of his way so he could grab a bowl

Instead, however, he followed you, trapping you against the counter and kissing you passionately until you were breathless

You vaguely registered a clink as Tony dropped his spoon into his cereal bowl, staring at the two of you in shock

"What-"

Before you could even finish your question, Loki leaned in and kissed you again, his hands cradling your face gently

"I remember last night," He said breathlessly. His eyes never left yours

"I remember everything, Y/N."

[victoriaholmeswriting]

Camping Trip

Danny Tanner x Reader One-Shot

Read it on AO3!

Rating: E

Words: 1891

Summary: Danny Tanner and his girlfriend go on a camping trip to enjoy finally have some time alone.

A/N: I've noticed a serious lack of Danny Tanner citric acid and needed to fix that because that man fucks and no one can change my mind!

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Danny questioned, scrutinizing everything around him.  “There’s dirt everywhere!”

Bunching up kindling for the firepit, (y/n) rolled her eyes at her neat-freak boyfriend.  “It’s called nature, my dear.  Dirt is a major portion of the package deal.”

He groaned, but didn’t argue as he pulled a small hand-broom and dust pan from his duffle bag and began sweeping trace amounts of debris from inside the tent they’d just set up.  Well, to be fair, she did most of the work because he was too busy trying not to get mud on his jeans -- that he had ironed...for some reason.

She paused, sticks in one hand and lighter in the other, staring at him in utter disbelief.  Obviously, she knew this weekend camping trip would be difficult for him.  But this was getting ridiculous.

“Tanner, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded, watching him empty the dustpan behind a tree at the edge of the campsite.

He shrugged.  “Just cleaning up,” he said like he was merely clearing the table after dinner.

Chuckling to herself, she finished building up the sticks in the pit before lighting the fire with enchanting ease.

Danny watched the flames dance and grow in her eyes as she expertly built up the fire.  When she sat back on her heels to examine her work, he immediately noticed the dirt on her hands and knees.  He didn’t know what he was more shocked by: the fact that she didn’t seem concerned that those jeans were almost certainly ruined...or that he was kind of turned on.

Was it really surprising, though? The whole point of coming out here was so that they could finally get some time alone.  His house was always so busy and her roommate worked from home and always had friends over, making it impossible to find any sort of privacy.  Hell, the only times they even got to make out without the threat of being barged in on or prying eyes was in their cars after dates.  And even then, they were both too tall for anything more.  Not that either of them wanted their first time having sex together to be in a car anyways.  They wanted it to be far more special.  (Quickies and throwing out roommates could come later.)

After more than eight months, the lack of intimacy was starting to take a toll on their relationship.  It was clear that they needed a weekend away, just the two of them.  Though, he still had absolutely no idea how he’d let her talk him into camping instead of the nice beach getaway he had all planned out.

As he pondered over this, she looked up, catching his eye and giving him that smile that’d first caught his attention at the Smash Club.  His heart jumped -- and so did his cock.  He shifted himself subtly, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

(Y/N) frowned at the discomfort on his face.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly.  His gaze moved to the rock next to his shoe.

He truly was a terrible liar.

“This was a bad idea,” she sighed, deflated.  “We should have just gone to the beach.”

His eyes returned to hers.

“No, no!” he reassured her.  The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her feelings.  “No, I’m just adjusting to the scenery.  That’s all!  I’m sorry for being a bit of a downer.”

She smiled at him again.  “You are not a downer, Danny Tanner.”

He smiled back as she stood up, dusted her hands off on her pants, and walked over to him.

The feeling of her arms slowly draping around his neck sent shockwaves through his body.  His hands instinctively found her waist as she pulled him into a passionate kiss.  He moaned as her fingers tangled in his hair and her tongue pushed its way into his mouth.  He couldn’t help it -- he loved it when she took control of him like this.

A grin dominated her features when she pulled back after several moments, panting.  She took in his flushed complexion, the sound of his lungs catching up, and the lust in his eyes.

He was right where she wanted him.

She pulled him in for a more demanding, passionate kiss.

Their tongues exploring each other once again, his hands moved to her ass.  He gripped it tightly, reveling in the feel of it and the quiet groan he elicited from her.  Their bodies melted together like they never had been able to before.  They fit together so perfectly.  And both of them knew it.

(Y/N) couldn’t control the returning grin when she felt his hard cock pressed against her.  She bit her lip as he trailed wet kisses down her neck.

“Danny,” she said between stifled moans, “maybe we should move this to the tent?”

He didn’t say a word, opting instead to grab her hand and lead her to the tent she’d practically stuffed with blankets and pillows.  Perfectly planned out to make sure they were as comfortable as possible all night long -- no matter what activity or position they found themselves in.

Plus, let’s be honest, Danny Tanner wasn’t exactly the “‘roughin’-it” type anyways.  She had to promise to make it as comfortable as possible to get him to come out here in the first place.  And, boy, did she use that to her advantage.

The layers of comfort cushioned their knees as they knelt down in the tent, facing each other.

Danny captured her lips for a brief moment before leaning over to zip up the tent behind them.  Or, he tried to at least.

The tall, lanky man struggled to keep his balance as he fumbled with the zipper.  He yanked at it repeatedly to no avail.  Frustrated, he growled, “Dammit!”

Shaking her head and laughing, she nudged his hands out of the way.

“Stop before you break my tent,” she said.  She pulled the zipper up a few inches, held the flaps tightly together at the bottom, and zipped it closed in one smooth motion. Smirking, she turned back to him, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I was going to try that next,” he bluffed, earning another big laugh from her.

“Sure you were,” she retorted, a massive grin adorning her gorgeous face.

God, he loved that smile!  It was positively intoxicating to every single one of his senses.  He had to taste it.

Tentatively, he brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned back in to kiss her, feeling her body press against his again.  She melted in his embrace, kissing him back with a fiery passion.  Their tongues tangled together as (y/n) once again started to take control.

Danny reveled in her dominance, his cock hard and making its presence well known between them.  Taking hold of the hem of his shirt, she removed it -- slowly -- trailing her pinky fingers up his sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Pulling off her own shirt, she moved his hands to her breasts.  A deep blush spread across his whole torso as he squeezed them.  How did he not notice she wasn’t wearing a bra before?  Had he really been so preoccupied with the state of nature around their campsite?  So pointless.  All those months they’d been unable to properly enjoy each other and show each other affection -- and he’d wasted the first hour of their getaway fussing over dirt and leaves.

Well, he’d just have to make up for it.

His soft thumbs playing with her nipples, Danny slowly made his way across her cheek and down her neck to her right breast.  He took it in his mouth, moving his tongue in narrowing circles, culminating on her nipple.  The hummed moans he garnered spurred him on -- which, of course, he repeated with the left one.

(Y/N)’s underwear became uncomfortably wet.  She couldn’t stand it any longer.

She seized his face by the jaw, bringing it back to hers and thrusting her tongue into his mouth just before they connected.  Her hands quickly worked open his jeans and slid them down his thighs.  A shiver ran down his spine as his cock met the chilling dusk air.

Danny carefully laid her down, lips never separating.  Wasting no time, he removed his pants completely and hovered his hand over the waistband of her pants, waiting for permission.  She nodded and soon felt his warm skin on her inner thighs.

 (Y/N) ran her hand over his chest as they took each other in.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the one thing she’d forgotten to pack.

“Shit,” she swore, dropping her head back on the pillows in frustration.

“What?” he asked, concerned.  “What’s wrong?”

She growled.  “I forgot to pack condoms.”

“Oh,” he chucked, “I’ve got it covered.”  He reached into the front pocket of the backpack that was in the corner behind her head.

 She watched in astonishment as he pulled out three boxes of condoms.

“Fuck, Danny!” (y/n) exclaimed.  “We’re going to be out here for two nights.  How many of those do you expect to use?!”

The lust in his eyes blazed.  “It’s been eight months, (y/n).  I plan to run out.”

She laughed as he dipped back down to her neck, handing her one of the boxes, dropping the others beside them.  Her hands pulled open the box and wrapper.

(Y/N) grasped the back of his head with one hand, fingers carding his hair and locking him to her lips before moving both hands down to expertly roll it over his cock and began stroking him -- slowly.

Gasps and moans vibrated against her throat for a few moments before he couldn’t take it anymore.  He pulled her hand away, lacing their fingers together by her head.

Making his way back to her lips, he dipped his long fingers between her folds, assessing how prepared she was.  She was positively dripping.

Those soft fingers gently pushed into her, instantly finding that perfect spot.  Nails dug into his skin in response, pairing perfectly with unrestrained moans that made his cock weep with precum.

She dragged her nails down his back to his ass, grasping it tightly and pulling him closer so his groin met hers.

“Tanner,” (y/n) gasped.  “I need more!  Fuck.  Me.  NOW!”

A deep sound she’d never heard from him before emanated from somewhere deep in his chest at the command.  Before she could blink, he was fully inside her, giving her a couple seconds to adjust.  When he was sure she was ready, he started thrusting.  Slow at first, but picking up pace with each one.  His moans were almost as loud as hers.  Her nails clawed at his back, losing herself in every ounce of the ecstasy he was drilling into her.  She couldn’t hold on for much longer….

Their names mingled together in harmony until his thrusts lost their rhythm and spasm ran from her core out through her limbs.

When they came down from their highs, Danny laid beside her and pulled her to nuzzle into his chest.

“You know,” (y/n) said, still catching her breath, “I don’t think you brought enough.”

Danny chuckled, kissing the top of her head.  “I’ll keep that in mind for the next trip.”

~~~

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