#I wish I could make a witty comeback

[seeeuspaceecowboyyy]

Y’all I hate when Miguel is portrayed as the “silent brooding” type in fics. Like yeah he had his brooding moments in the film but canonically he’s so sassy. Literally always has a comeback (maybe not super witty) and yeah he might be a bit awkward and mopey but he’s not shy or quiet. Irritated and grumpy maybe but not silent. He’s a talker and he’s got some sass. Just look at how he talks with Lyla, Peter, and Jess.

I also don’t like when he’s portrayed as “unreasonably cruel”. If that were the case, Peter B. and Jess would not have stood behind him and supported him all those times before the Miles incident. You can tell he really cares deep down when he:

• Lets Gwen join the Spider Society despite his reservations because he knows what it feels like to lose family

• Keeps Lyla around even though all she does is tease him because if he was a jerk he wouldn’t have wanted to put up with that and would have just shut her down instantly

• Carefully holds and watches Mayday while she’s with him instead of recoiling from her

• Tries to patiently explain the spider-verse canon problem to Miles and you can see the sympathy yet determination in his eyes when he tries to reason with Miles about the sacrifices of being Spider-Man

• Shows Miles his most vulnerable and heartbreaking moment as a way to connect with him

• He regularly calls for backup and works in a team instead of just going on his own which shows how much he trusts and appreciates his colleagues

I just wish we could have seen more of his normal interactions with other characters when he’s not dealing with high pressure situations.

(Edit: Yeah he got crazy scary during the Miles chase scene and kicked Gwen out at the end. I’ll admit he’s got a temper. But he was desperate guys. It was life or death to him and linked to his trauma with losing Gabriella. He literally thought another universe would collapse again if he didn’t do anything to stop it, making it partly his fault. It wasn’t just a pride thing. He felt like there was so much at stake and that’s why he went ballistic on Miles, just to make him listen.)

[tourturestarradio]

Helloooo!! I hope you’re doing alright :3

‼️‼️‼️SPOILER FOR DEADPOOL 3‼️‼️‼️

Can I request a crack fic? With either male or gender neutral reader, with Logan and Wade, in that car fight scene?

Like, the three of them are in that Honda Odyssey, and when Logan and Wade start fighting, reader just gets so fed up, they’re like: “oh my god can y’all just kiss already? This is painful to watch.” Bc that was me the entire time I was watching that movie😭🙏🏻 You can add anything else you want in there but I would love to see that! I absolutely love how you write so I don’t doubt you could make this just as well as your others!! ☺️💙

𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: You're sick of Wade's and Logan's BS and for the first time you lose your temper on them.

Pairing: Deadpool/Wade Willson x G/n reader x Wolverine/Logan Howlet

Warnings: Cursing, Spoilers for Deadpool 3

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You ducked and dodged under both of the mens attacks they had been fighting each other for the past 30 minutes with no breaks. All because Logan couldn't keep the mouth shut. So now you sat bruises, bullet wounds, and cuts covering your body.

"Guys! G..Guys can we please stop fighting...please?" but they both ignored you again, usually you were the calm one to defuse their arguments and they'd relax, before they were back at it again.

You looked between the two your irritation growing stronger by the second.

"Uh...Wade?" he was stabbing into Logan "one moment cupcake." you dodged a stray knife headed your way "Logan?..." he broke Wades arm "not now."

You were willing to just let them fight it out that was the plan until Wade had redirected Logans blades into your leg.

That was your final straw, "Will you two just fuck already?!" you shouted looking at the two "what the fuck are you-" "Logan shut the hell up!" he closed his mouth Wade laughing at him "ha you're in trouble now-" "Wade so help me God I will shove that stupid kitana so far up your ass you're be tasting metal for a god damned month!"

They both hushed surprised by your outburst, your were usually so calm all the time.

"Every time you both are around each other it's like a enemies to lovers trope just waiting to happen! the sexual tension is palpable between you two!" You pulled Wolverines blades out of your leg "you two just can't go five fucking minutes without wanting to rip each other apart, for fucks sake!" you rolled your eyes "by some grace of God I've made it this far with you two assholes without having a brain aneurysm!"

You pulled a baby knife out of your torso pointing to Wade "I mean I get it you both have your differences, you're doing this because you got a girlfriend that barely loves you. Little to no friends who enjoy being around but you care about them and that's what's important right? Right.so you want to do everything in your will power to make sure those people don't die because without them you have nothing to distract from the impending doom you feel in your gut that you're not good enough. But god forbid you ever feel safe or scared so you cover up all your problems by making half funny jokes and witty comebacks. How's that am I in the right ball park?" You faced Logan as Wade pondered on your words.

He opened his mouth to speak but you hushed him quickly "And you, you try to be all big bad and tough but you're not you're a sad lonely man with no family or friends because in your universe they're dead and there's nothing you can do about it. But because you were left alive you carry the guilt of losing the people you cared for the most everyday wishing you could go back and fix things and make them right, but you can't they're gone for good but instead of making something out of your life and trying to start new you decided to go on a murderous rampage. So now you carry that guilt on top of everything else so you drown yourself in those chemicals in a bottle to forget or ignore your problems instead of growing a pair owning up to your mistakes!"

You got out of the car "so in conclusion you both have your reasons for being here, you want to get back the things you love most, but you two fuck faces are too idiotic to realize how much you have in common so you ignore the good character writing and argue and fight every other scene! I mean come on how much more gay could you two get!" You huffed finally letting that off your chest and turning to walk away "now i'm going to leave for an hour to blow off some steam and you both have two ultimatums you either A : take those sweaty suits off and have the best hate sex of your lives or B: shut the fuck up! Grow some balls! and get it the fuck together!" you stormed away both Logan and Wade too stunned to say anything.

.

.

.

"That was pretty hot, i've never seen them so angry."

Safe to say they made up for now and continued on with the rest of the movie.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: sorry this was so short!!!!! hope you enjoyed!

[fandomnerd9602]

The One I Want

Laura Kinney x Spiderpool!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Do you know that one moment where you just feel like you screwed everything up spectacularly? well that happened to me rather recently. Oh sorry where are my manners? my name is (Y/N) (L/N) and on my world I’m known as the spectacularly annoying Spider-Pool. The spectacularly annoying part is debatable.

You see it all started when the TVA zapped me into the void, something about being an anomaly, a profane and unholy combination of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. Honestly, it’s just the best of both worlds in my book or it would be a book if I wasn’t more than just one panel in comic book of the spider verse. True story look it up.

Or it could’ve been the fact that I killed Jared Leto, oh not Morbius. I’m saying I literally killed Jared Leto. It was an accident. I thought I was going after Morbius but oh well.

To make a long story short, I was forced to team up with X-23 or Laura as she likes to be called. One of my all time favorite X-Men characters by the way!

Anyway we found ourselves at an agreement, if I got her back to her timeline and out of the Void she would help me do the same. A good deal all things considered. The only downside is the TVA is so flip floppy. I mean one show it’s the villain the next show it’s good? Fiege, please make up your mind about what the TVA is?!

“You’re sure this plan of ours will work?” Laura told me as we drove thru the woods towards the reported base of the resistance found in the Void.

“If it works, I’ll be happily back in my world by this time tomorrow, Fun Size” Laura’s eyes went wide and she slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me flying into the windshield.

“If?! What do you mean if?!” She was screaming at me. My mind could only formulate the truth. I thought truth telling was Captain America's problem?!

"The TVA are hunting me and I need to get back home to save my world." Oh yeah it all came out like a big old truth salad. A truth salad that you order from Pizza Hut and immediately regret.

Laura began screaming and banging her fists against the steering wheel, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Out of all the spider totems to get stuck in the Void with and I end up with you!"

Oh I knew exactly where this was heading. A teenage superhero such as myself could only baton down the hatches and listen as this beautiful teenage fighting machine chewed me out. How is this both the most embarrassing and fulfilling moment of my life?

"I end up with the biggest fuck up in the multiverse! A spider-deadpool equivalent that couldn't save his Aunt May or Uncle Ben. Twice!"

It's true. I even somehow got my universe's Sean Bean killed. Yes. That Sean Bean. He wasn't even playing my Uncle Ben or anything!

Laura continued her little tirade, "No wonder the Spider Society turned you down! And the Avengers too! You can't save anyone or anything. Your world hates you! The girls you were supposed to love hate you! Mary Jane couldn't stand you. Gwen probably enjoyed death more than you!"

I could feel the anger rising up in the pit of my heart.

"The greatest joke is that no matter how much you wish for death to be with Gwen, you can't die! And it's one of God's greatest jokes on us instead of you!!!"

I was left in stone cold utter silence. I could feel my vision beginning to turn as red as my outfit.

"What?! No witty comeback?!"

"I'm going to fight you now" was all that left my mouth. And you know what? I meant it. Every. Last. Fucking. Word.

"Oh are you-?" THWIP! I shot one of my web guns, a web flew right over her mouth. The anger immediately flared in her eyes. Next thing I knew she lunged at me, claws out.

She grabbed my head and slammed it several times against the car radio. I grabbed her and gently pushed her against the driver seat. Hey I may be in a fight for my life but I’d still never hurt a woman.

Laura took one of her claws and ran it over the web, cutting it. I really should have taken Fictional Chemistry to understand that admantium is stronger than webs.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t hurt a girl!”

“A girl can hurt you!” She retorted before driving her claws in my lungs.

I kicked her straight thru the windshield of the Odyssey and into the forest in front of us. She simply smirked and dove right back thru. I had to admire her tenacity and endurance.

That admiration was interrupted with the familiar feeling of Adamantium being driven straight thru me, over and over.

She began muttering something in Spanish. Sadly I didn’t have the subtitles on so I couldn’t exactly know what she was saying. My Spanish only goes as far as my name: la piscina de aranas.

I pinned her to the second row seats, which were flattened like my heart was after the dog’s death in John Wick.

Laura simply laughed and kicked me straight thru the roof of the Honda. I landed on the roof with a sickening thud and rolled off, hitting the forest floor.

Laura, ever the tease, looked at me thru the window and gave me a come at me signal. “I am a teenage superhero,” I found myself wondering, “how am I terrified and yet so turned on?”

I pulled out my punch daggers and dived right thru the side window.

We traded blows and slashes. She let out a few huffs and groans. She straddled me and begins driving her claws repeatedly, coating the interior with a lovely shade of my blood.

She paused and looked at me in concern, “is that a Glock in your pocket?!”

“I never keep a Glock in there” I laughed before pulling out another gun, “I keep a Desert Eagle!”

Blam! Blam! I fired off several shots at her, one of which hit her rib and the other hit one of her claws.

“That all you got?” She asked me thru gritted teeth.

I grabbed my web gun and shot off several shots, encasing one of her arms in a giant web. She cut right thru it and lunges at me again. She forced us into the remaining back third row. Yeah the Odyssey has three rows. Three rows of get your freak on.

Next thing I knew Laura was looking at me with those brown eyes of hers. It had a mixture of anger and... Wait what was that? Is that lust?!

Well I guess it was. Because the next thing I knew she was driving her claws into the sides of the seats to my left and my right and then she kissed me full on lip lock with teeth hitting mine lip lock. Holy Stan Lee!

Each little growl that escaped her mouth was like a bit of heaven, a symphony to my ears, and quite possibly a fear of hell.

“I…uhh…” my brain tried to comprehend the exact situation that I was going through. It was something so great and yet so terrifying and couldn’t help it intrigue me even more.

“You talk too much” was her only response before she continued her onslaught of kisses. And boy was she right.

She shoved me down onto the remaining back seat, her lips never leaving mine. I began rubbing little circles into her back as the Honda continued rocking back and forth.

It was night by the time we had worked thru all of our differences…and no we did not go any farther than a PG-13 would allow.

Laura nuzzled me, laying against my chest. We shared a bottle of Coke that we found earlier. I gotta admit, besides the whole trying to kill me thing, I could really see a long partnership with her. Both crime fighting and in private.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “It’s not your fault. The TVA is just the worst.”

“Yeah” I agreed, “sorry I shot you with a Desert Eagle”

Laura simply smirked and held up the bullet before dropping it on the Honda’s floor. “I’ll help you get back home”

“I’ll make sure you have a home to get back to.” I smiled at her and gave her forehead a little kiss.

“Aww” a new voice broke the silence. Laura and I turned to see Deadpool and Wolverine staring at us from outside the Honda.

“Young love” Deadpool chimed in.

OK, so not exactly how I was expecting this whole date to go, but I gotta say turn out better than I thought it would. And what can I say the Honda Odyssey really fucks.

[littledemondani]

bestie can i get something abt fuckboy!eddie and shy!reader selling to you but you don’t have enough money if you catch my drift 😏

warnings: fuckboy!eddie, fem!reader, oral (m receiving), r buys weed from eddie, r is shy but not shy?, no use of y/n

you’re normally so put together. there’s never been anything or anyone that has ever caught you off guard. you’re so quick with witty comebacks and overall being the epitome of confidence. all of your friends pride you on it, while some wish they had even an ounce of your courage and lack of giving a shit about what anyone thinks of you.

so, when you meet eddie munson, the dealer your best friend suggested could hook you up with some weed while you’re home visiting family from college, you are taken aback by how quickly you fucking fold.

his charming smile, bright personality, and overall damn good looks rendered you fucking speechless. you’re a bundle of nerves, fidgeting in your seat and looking anywhere else but at him.

eddie finds it adorable. normally he’d be annoyed to hell and cut the deal off, but your soft eyes and voice captivate him.

“so, whaddaya say?” he asks, holding the baggie filled with weed out in front of him. “you good with twenty dollars?”

you stutter for a bit, having completely gotten lost in the warm brown of his eyes. “yeah, yeah, lemme just…”

you open up your wallet and visibly deflate when you notice how much is in there. fifteen, not enough to cover the full amount he’s willing to charge you. you mutter a low ‘fuck’ under your breath, but not nearly low enough.

“something wrong?” eddie presses, leaning forward slightly against the picnic table as he looks you up and down.

“i don’t have enough,” you say, tossing your wallet back into your purse. “i’m sorry. i thought i had way more in there.”

eddie takes a minute to respond. he’s mulling something over in his mind, rapping his fingers against the wood of the table as he does so.

“what if,” he says slowly and thoughtfully. “you can pay me another way?”

you pinch your brows together, clearly not understanding what he means. “wait, huh?”

“i’m saying…you don’t have to pay me with money, sweetheart,” he raises a brow at you, a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips.

then it hits you. the realization of the offer he’s giving you. you’d done that more times at school than you’d like to admit. but in those instances, it was always you who suggested blowing them, and what twenty-year-old college boy was gonna say no to that?

you just never expected yourself to be on the receiving end of that same offer.

“so what, i blow you, you give me the weed, and that’s that?” you ask, suddenly getting a sliver of your confidence back.

eddie studies you for a bit before grinning devilishly. he normally isn’t this straightforward when he sells. opting to keep it professional at all times but there’s something about you that makes him throw all of that out of the window.

“i think it’s a pretty fair trade,” he points out. “but if you’re not into that, then don’t worry about it. this is only if you want to. i’m not a sleaze ball like that.”

you stand and walk around the picnic table, trailing your fingertips along the old wood. you stop in front of him and sink to your knees, keeping your eyes on him.

“i think it’s pretty fair, too,” you say, rubbing your hands up his thighs to the bulge already formed.

he shifts and widens his legs a bit to make room for you, his eyes darkened with lust and anticipation.

you waste no time in undoing his belt buckle and pulling his jeans down just enough for his long, thick cock to spring free of its confines.

your mouth waters at the sight of it, throbbing and leaking at the fat tip. you dart your tongue to lick it up, moaning softly as you do so.

eddie groans at the feel of you, bringing his hand to grip onto your hair. his eyes roll back as you wrap your lips around the tip and suckle, bucking up towards you instinctively.

you slowly take more of him down your throat. you gag a little, though it only turns eddie on even more. he grips your hair tightly, and you can tell he’s trying to hold himself back from fully fucking your face.

once your gag reflex settles, you set a steady pace, swallowing around him.

eddie brings himself to look down at you. you’re already gazing at him, and he smiles.

“you’re so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth, sweetheart,” he moans, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “shit, i could get used to you like this.”

you bring your hand to his heavy balls, giving them a gentle squeeze before massaging them. eddie whines at your touch, tipping his head back as he curses.

“your mouth feels amazing,” he says, holding your head still so he can fuck into you. “goddamnit, i’m gonna cum. fuck, you’re too good.”

he thrusts a couple of times before his release overtakes him and he cums straight down your throat. he moans loud, shuddering a bit at the intensity of his orgasm.

when he finally lets go of you, you pull back and swallow the remnants of his cum.

“here,” he pants, reaching for the baggie to hand it to you. “a deal is a deal.”

“thanks,” you stand on shaky legs and take the bag from him, giving him a soft smile.

he tucks himself into his pants while you make your way back to the other side of the table to gather your things. you put the baggie inside your purse and fling the strap over your shoulder.

you take one last look at him, watching him as he takes hold of his black metal box. thoughts of wanting to see him again cross your mind, and before you could even stop yourself, you’re walking back over to him.

without saying anything, you reach for his hand and write down your name and phone number on his palm.

“see you around,” you tell him with a wink as you slowly back away from him to head back to your car. leaving him at a complete loss for words.

[taffycandyqt]

Hi taffy!! Idk if anyone has done this but its been on my mind for a while now. YouTuber reader and editor donnie. Where Donnie has a little avatar that pops into videos and reader talks in the video to him for when he edits (kind of like a Markiplier and Lixian kind of thing?) Thanks soo much! Lots of love!

Yesssss!!!! I absolutely love Marks and Lixians dynamic! Oh this is gonna be so fun!

You didn't specify what version you wanted so I'm just gonna assume you want rise Donnie and do that👍

Masterlist

Request Rules

Little Editor Boy

You found your video editor a couple years after starting YouTube. He's great at his job and you enjoy talking to him. You never met him in person though, so imagine your surprise when you find out he's a giant mutant turtle!

Rise Donnie x gn reader

Headcannons

Fluff

Before dating

Othello was the best person you had ever worked with and one of your closest friends.

You hired him after he had edited one of your videos for his own channel.

It was purely for satire but you loved his sense of humor and he was good at what he does.

Now you guys call practically all the time and he even feeds you ideas for new videos.

You loved pushing your dynamic on your videos too!

Talking to him like he was in the room with you and teasing back and forth like he was there responding to you.

It was fun!

You hated watching your videos but you loved to go to the parts where you "talk to him" just to see his witty comebacks.

He never ceased to make you laugh.

With all this though you've never met in person, nor have you ever seen his face.

He always avoids the topic or makes some sort of excuse.

No he doesn't have a working camera on any of his technological devices despite his fluency with the stuff, yes he really does live in Zimbabwe even thought he consistently talks about going to places exclusively in New York

Yes he is busy Ninja training, no that is not a lie, unfortunately he is planning on being sick the next two weeks that your free so guys can't visit each other.

Safe to say, you were done with his bull.

So on your next phone call you cornered him for the truth.

Little did you know that the truth was, he did want to meet you, but he couldn't.

Now it should be known that Donnie isn't ashamed of how he looks.

Is he aware? Yes.

Does he care? No.

If someone else has a problem with it, it's just that, their problem.

But with you, he wants you to like him, and he HATES that.

He wishes that taking the chance to meet you in person didn't scare him so much.

He doesn't want you to scream, run, call him a freak, and fire him!

So when you put him in tight position to meet you, he was kinda freaking out.

Not that his "bad boy" persona would ever let him show it.

Donnie's knee bounced under the table as he waited for you to come into the shabby diner you both decided to meet at. Purple hoodie and mittens with black jeans and sneakers. Normally he hated wearing all this junk but if he could avoid the inevitable freakout as long as possible then so be it. With his hood pulled up to shield his face from the occasional passer-by. The yellow lights flickered periodically and it made him wish he was back at his lab fixing up whatever project he felt like instead of watching that persistent technological annoyance.

The minutes ticked by and he was starting to wonder if you were coming at all. Maybe you had seen him from afar and decided you didn't actually want to meet him? Maybe you were freaked out? At this point he couldn't decide which one would distress him more. The prospect of meeting you or the idea that you no longer want to meet him. Panicked thoughts started rushing through his head and the plasticy covering of his booth seat was becoming increasingly uncomfortable the longer he sat there alone. If felt like he was in the splash zone waiting for a wave to smack him.

Before he can go any deeper into this panic though, you say down in front of him.

"Sorry I'm a little late. Hopefully five minutes wasn't too long a wait!" you laughed to yourself as you slid into the booth seat across from him.

"N-nope! All good here! A ha..." he mumbled awkwardly.

You both talked as your food came and he stayed draw in on himself and refused to let you see his face.

He would get more comfortable with the conversation as you talked and things seemed to be getting into a better note but his body language still seemed to stay uncomfortable.

You just kept the conversation up and hoped he would come out of his shell.

Nothing seemed to be working until you got on the topic of Jupiter Jim and you mentioned how underrated Atomic Lass and Atomic Lads dynamic is within the franchise and fanbase.

He'd sit up so fast that his hood flew off is face as he released an exasperated "EXACTLY!"

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

You didn't know what to expect but it wasn't green skin and less than human features.

Your bewildered staring clued him into his fatal mistake.

He'd sink back into the booth seat choking out an awkward forced laugh.

You so badly want to ask "What are you?" But that seemed a tad dehumanizing. Though you guessed he wasn't really human.

So after the initial shock wore off, you decided to say something a bit different.

"There's the face I've been dying to meet," you smiled.

"Pardon?" He looked up at you a tad surprised.

This was the first time he made eye contact with you since you got here.

"I haven't been trying to meet you in person for so long just so I could catch a glimpse of your fashion sense you know,"

After that he played it off like he knew you would react that way and immediately straightened his posture at the table.

The time there also got a bit more comfortable as you both chatted freely.

He still kept the hood on but was no longer using it to obscure his face.

Eventually you noticed his hands had been degloved and saw his green three fingers.

You didn't stare like you did at his face but you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

You were still curious okay?

While Dating

Once you two start saying it becomes increasingly obvious to you followers.

Your interactions with Donnie's little character slowly went from boss employee teasing to ridiculous romantic jokes to just straight up calling him pet names.

When you find out about Donnie's family and their mutant situation you were actually really interested.

Though it did make you a little sad at the realization that his behavior when you first met in person was because he thought you'd think of him differently.

Because of this one of your favorite names for him becomes "handsome boy" or "handsome man".

You'd ask him to edit something for you in one of your videos and when you were done explaining it you'd say "thank you my handsome boy!" And continue playing the game.

The first time this happened he was just watching the video to edit it like he normally does, only to get jump scared by the nickname.

Don't get me wrong, he loved the name, but he just didn't know what to think.

It took him a good ten minutes to recover from his flustered state of mind.

After he got out of it he would consider just editing that part out.

For.... reasons.

But ultimately left it in since the cut would be too awkward.

Needless to say your followers are BEGGING for an Othello face reveal and you just have to keep saying no😭😭

Outside of that you are like the OTP for Internet couples.

It gets to the point where you guys kinda become a meme

Some fan of a different streamer will talk about how that streamer and their partner and perfect for eachother and then one of your fans will just be like "yeah but are they as perfect as y/n and Othello von Ryan?"

It even evolves I into "peanut butter and jelly are the perfect pair" "not as perfect as y/n and Othello tho..."

or "UGH! GUYS! My fit EATS! Almost as much as y/n and Othello!"

It's all in good fun, and you find it absolutely hilarious.

Donnie is amused and anytime you show him these memes he simply nods and says something along the lines of "well I cannot disagree with objective fact."

Overall, very cute, very fun.

[bimobuddy]

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Hazbin Tickle Fic

SFW but does have suggestive language and swearing

Switch! Angel, Switch! Husk

Minor spoilers for the show

CW: Brief mention of Valentino and Angel's job, slight angst but it's short I promise, it's only two sentences

Summary: When Angel starts bothering Husk, the bartender discovers an interesting way to make him shut up. Unfortunately for him, Angel is one for revenge, and he has six hands.

Husk's ear twitched when Angel grabbed it for the third time now. He growled and swatted him away. "Fuck off, I'm working." Angel laughed. "No you ain't, we're the only ones here. All you're doin' is playin' cards." He said, his hands finding their way back to Husk's head to scritch between his ears.

An involuntary purr escaped before Husk could swat him off again. "Angel." A final warning. Next time he'd act. "Whatever babe, you love me." Angel grinned, leaning against the counter. He tried to stay quiet this time, and just watch Husk play with his cards, but he got bored quickly. He never intended to annoy Husk- Well sometimes he did, but today he wasn't! He was just restless, bored, and had a lot of energy that came out in bursts.

"Y'know when I was a kid, I tried teachin' myself these fancy card tricks. I went and showed my brother, and he asked me, 'You ever heard of the game 52 Pick-Up?' And I said 'no,' and when I handed him the deck, he tossed 'em everywhere! And then-"

"Angel, for fuck's sake, how hard is it to keep quiet for 60 seconds?" Husk grumbled, reaching out and prodding Angel's side a bit as he spoke. As he did, he noticed Angel stiffen up before taking a breath and relaxing again.

Angel was still trying to get used to friendly contact, especially after all the time he had spent with Val. Husk reaching out to poke him had startled him just a little, but he was quick to remind himself it was Husk. And Husk was safe. They were losers together after all.

"Fuck was that?" Husk asked suddenly. Angel felt his cheeks flush as he refused to speak all of a sudden. The bartender chuckled. "What? Cat got your tongue?" He asked, starting to catch on.

"Not yet, but I wish he would~" Angel said, unable to resist a joke that was practically handed to him.

Husk's ears flattened as he slapped the deck of cards on the counter. He was quick to step forward and start lightly pinching Angel's ribs, right between his upper and lower set of arms. This apparently was a bad spot, as the actor crumbled instantly, falling to his knees with a squeal.

"NO! Ah! Plehehehease!" Angel giggled frantically, his upper arms trying to grab Husk's hands while his lower arms seemed torn between crossing or pushing at his attacker, the confusion resulting in them sort of just hesitantly shaking in mid air before he clenched them into fists.

Husk gently dug his claws into the underarms of Angel's upper set of arms. The spider let go of his wrists and squealed, all four arms pinning themselves to his sides while he just kicked against the floor and giggled freely, shaking his head.

"You wanna rephrase what you said to me earlier?" Husk teased, kneading his thumbs right into Angel's underarms, making him toss his head back in laughter. "I'm sohohorry! I'm sohoho sohohohorry!"

Husk chuckled and stopped, pulling his hands away, letting his friend slump down and breathe, still slightly giggly. "Ahasshole.." He giggled out.

"Hey, not my fault you never said 'stop.' What's up with that, huh Angel?" He teased, gently skittering a claw up his side. Angel squeaked and snatched his hand up.

Instead of answering or trying to come up with a witty comeback, Angel simply raised Husk's arm and used two hands to tickle and spider over his sides and ribs. Husk inhaled sharply and held his breath, his ears flattening into 'airplane ears,' as he heard Vaggie call them one time.

Angel laughed and tickled faster. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue~?" As his hands tickled down his sides, closer to his hips, Husk finally cracked and started to laugh. It was deep, yet awkward and unsure, as he probably hadn't truly laughed like this in years. He couldn't even look at Angel as he laughed like this, he kept his eyes squeezed shut and his head turned away, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Ha- Aheh! A-Ahangel wahaHAit!" He had started leg-kicking when two more hands popped out and started to scritch along his belly. "What's wrong, I thought kitties liked belly rubs." Angel grinned.

"That's dohohogs- FUCK- Nohohoho! Ahahangel-"

FWOOSH!

Husk's wings had suddenly fluffed out from all the adrenaline, causing Angel to momentarily pause. Taking the opportunity, he used one hand to pin Husk's arms over his head, pushing him flat on his back. One hand gently tickled under his chin, and the other four focused purely on his wings.

All hell broke loose.

Husk was laughing harder than Angel had ever heard from him, his legs were kicking, tail thrashing, and his wings flapped and pounded the floor frantically.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHANGEL NOHOHO! HAHA NAHAT THEHERE!"

Angel couldn't help but laugh along, seeing Husk like this was so funny to him. He'd never seen him lose control like this before. Even when he was drunk he could still keep it together, but a little scritch-scratching under his feathers made him absolutely lose it.

"HAHAHAHAHA NOHOHO! STOHOHOP AHAHANGEL STOHOHOP-"

Of course as soon as it was requested, Angel stopped. He let go of his wrists, retracted his third set of arms, and got off of the poor cat, giving him room to breathe.

Husk panted like his afterlife depended on it, taking in air the way he usually took in beer. "Ugh, haha.. Fuhuck yohou.. Dammit..." He chuckled out, his wings trying to fold in but they were too tired and worn out from all the flapping so they just trembled and laid there.

"Damn, you okay? I think you're more ticklish than me." Angel chuckled. Husk groaned and nodded. "'m fine, shuddup.. Just let me lay here. Maybe in silence for once since you couldn't do that earlier." He said, light heartedly.

Angel smiled, reached over and scritched between Husk's ears, making him purr again, and this time the bartender welcomed it.

[saintbarou]

tags: written for @prettyboykatsuki in mind. reader is gn, and is a rouge with a thief/street urchin background. marriage and discussion of children. takes place in act 3, spoilers for wyll’s personal quest. discussion of marriage. fluff.

synopsis: you overhear wyll bragging to the children. at first you think nothing of it until you hear him say somethings you weren’t privy to.

Wyll is good with children, a truth not doubted but known ever since you had met the fabled folk hero in the Emerald Grove. It’s something you hardly do not think of, if you don’t want to end up in some sort of frenzy of thoughts better left unsaid. At least for the chapter of life you two are currently in. Maybe, you think as you clutch the wishing acorn the love of your life had gifted you in the palm of your hand, maybe when all this is over you could discuss such things as a family with him. When Wyll is free of Mizora’s hands completely, when his father is safe from all plots and schemes and when the little friend in your head has been cast out - yes, you think, you would like to utter the words of a family to Wyll’s ever so kind ear.

Unlike you however, your intended is not as patient as you can hear him bragging to the tiefling children you have both met and saved in your travels to Baldur’s Gate. It makes you chuff, like a pleased tiger and shake your head oh so fondly as he utters tales of your adventures. As you draw near you can make out the words - he’s telling the tales of defeating the goblin camp leaders. The adventure feels like a lifetime ago but not the phantom ache of the knot on your head you sustained from Dror Ragzlin knocking you well and good on the head.

You hear one of the kids, Mattis with his shaggy dark hair and mischievous eyes that glitter like the gold he covets with his not-so-lucky rings.

“Looks like you don’t do much now, do you Blade of Frontiers?” Mattis mocks, snickering behind his red hand. Wyll laughs good-naturedly, letting the teasing roll off his back smoothly like water off a duck’s wing. It’s something you envy, how Wyll is never riled up by such empty words. Mattis pouts, petulant as he throws another half baked insult at the man.

“And what’s with you letting your allies take such a beating - first Karlach now this? Having a hard time picturing what good you are for Blade?” Wyll huffs a chuckle, a smug smile tugging at his full lips and you stare a little too deeply at how white his teeth are in the afternoon sun.

“Things are different now you see - I have another story for you…” Wyll continues on with the tale of where you fought off Roah Moonglow, a Zhentarim trader who stole all the gold in the common’s people’s coffers; there had been a fatal mistake that you had made and Wyll had saved you at the perfect time. Even had a second to spare to throw in a witty comeback and a brilliant smile your way before the fight continued. Mattis’s face scowled as even he had to admit that the story succeeded in making the Blade appear just as cool as you and Karlach.

If barely.

“So what’s different now? Did you finally know how to hold your own in a fight?” Mattis pouts, conceding that maybe the Blade of Frontiers was more cool than dorky. Wyll grins, brilliant teeth on display at the apple of his cheeks raised.

“I’m their husband now. No one can ever hurt them while I’m around.”

Scratch that. The Blade of Frontiers will forever be corny in the eyes of these tiefling children for as long as you and Karlach live - they even think that know-it-all wizard that hangs around you is cool by default. The children all gag, making their sounds of disgust with Mattis being the loudest of them all. They are quick to disperse, going off to do what children do best in the times they live in and you approach Wyll as they leave.

“Calling yourself my husband now are we? It’s been less than a tenday since you asked me to be yours. Unless we’ve had a ceremony within the same amount of time - I think it’s a little too soon to call you such a revered title.”

Wyll jumps at the sound of your voice, your quiet steps always managing to go under his senses. It makes you laugh a little, how the smallest testaments of your background manage to slip past the hero’s defenses. You watch with adoring eyes as Wyll flushes with a warmth that makes him shine in the daylight as he brings a hand to rub at the back of his neck from embarrassment.

“Please - don’t tell me you heard all of that?”

“Oh yes I did. Every word in fact.”

Wyll hisses in embarrassment, and even then he doesn’t hesitate to look back into your eyes when you gently run your hand on his arm.

“Do you mean that - that nothing can hurt me while you are with me?” You ask your voice soft with tentativeness. He softens, gaze going from embarrassment to an eager honesty simmered with so much affection you neve once thought you would be looked at with. Wyll is a smart man, perspective and he knows what it is you ask - the battles that you have yet to face but will have to as fate decrees; its golden thread dictating every action and word that is to be spoken.

Wyll takes the hand on his arm into his and gazes at you, the brown of his eyes turning golden under the warmth of his words.

“Yes, truly. I may be the Blade of Frontiers sworn to protect the Sword Coast but,” he pauses to lick his lips as if tasting the sweetness of his confession before uttering it to you, “I am first and foremost a blade sworn to you. So whenever our enemies are drawn near, don’t hesitate to point me their way.”

The devotion is heavy in each word spoken, something you had never been witness to - loyalty and devotion only gets you killed in the streets. So it takes you a moment to collect yourself, to pick yourself off the floor from the weight of the goodness Wyll holds for you. You swallow before speaking, your voice thick.

“You already asked me to marry you - you don’t need to lay it on thick.” You say, trying to deflect but Wyll only smiles, eyes fond and gently as he lets his thumb caress the top of your hand.

“I know, I can’t help but be sweet to you. And I swear to the Helm I’ll live up to my word everyday.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his.

“I’ll hold it to you Lord Ravengard.”

“I hope to exceed all expectations.” His smile is smig but his words are warm - lovinging and truthful. Just as Wyll always is.

[writingdisposal]

I can't stop thinking about Vox.

There two ways to think about Vox as a regular love interest. You could think that because this might be his first time ever genuinely liking someone, he'd stumble over his words and struggle to charm their little crush. He is just so overwhelmed with these new emotions. He doesn't know how to act, especially when his old tactics don't result in the expected reactions from you.

This version is cute, but I feel like, it's inaccurate to his character. I can agree that you might be his first genuine crush, but I don't think he'd get nervous that badly.

The first times these emotions rise up, he swallows them down. Yeah, yeah, a pretty face walks by. Of course, it'll peak his interest, but he can't lose sight of his goals and that is to broaden his influence. He will only have to confront his crush once you both get to talking.

"The name's Vox," he lowly spoke, placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand, "It's a pleasure meeting you." Quickly you take your hand back, not hiding your disinterest. "Oh please, the pleasure is all mine," you reply, noting his smile becoming a little straint, "Let's skip right ahead to business. I don't like wasting my time." "Ah, just the way I like it. Follow me," he said, gesturing you to his office. Vox held open the door, a charming gaze looking back at your stunning face. Up until now, no smile or joy was presented in your attitude, but as you passed him, you shot him a small smile, "Thank you." It made Vox's breath hitch. His eyes widened and his body tensed up a little, yet his smile stayed the same.

An airy chuckle escaped his lips, "No need to thank. Its common courtesy really." "In a place like this? It's rare," you countered, sitting down and waiting for him to follow. Vox quickly shut the door and sat down across from you. Talking to you was easy, especially when a laugh or two snuck in-between. Vox found himself relaxing, enjoying the sound of you voice more so than the actual deal.

This when it hits him that he has a crush. The realisation doesn't stop him or makes him stutter. The only clue you might have of him catching feelings is that he keeps adjusting himself in his seat or talks a little faster. Honestly, nothing else changes. His tone, voice, body language, smile and eyes don't change a bit. Nothing is less or more genuine than before, because Vox is a competent business man first before he is anything else. Over time it'll appear more clear... to others that is. You will stay oblivious because that is how Vox wants it to be. It's going to be far more likely for someone else to tell you that Vox has feelings for you than for him to admit it. Vox isn't a coward about his feelings per say. He will drop you hints when the moment is right, but that is all he is giving. He likes the moments spend together more than anything and if this is all he can get out of this that is just fine by him.

Of course, he wishes for more, but if it isn't what you want, then this is just as good for him. That attitude might change though if you get interested in another demon or spend less time with him. Days that should have been spent together become days where he roughly fucks some whores to let his frustrations out. Those days will also have him casually checking his cameras scattered across town, just to see if you're fine or with someone he should worry about. Naturally you have no idea of this occurring because Vox doesn't want the image of the "suave and charming business man" to slip away. He fears, he can't be this vulnerable with you, at least not now, because you might reject him outright and completely severe contact. So he will continue talking to you, exchanging witty comebacks as well as a flirtatious comment here or there.

Also I think this is clear from the beginning, but just to have added it, Vox would never use his powers on you. It feels forced and that's no fun. He will however use his power to maybe impress you, only if the situation suits it of course.

Ok, that's it. No more thoughts available rn.

[vibratingskull]

Hiiii I love your fics so much that I'm genuinely suffering from Yandere Thrawn Brainrot 😭 can I pretty please request Yandere Thrawn x fem reader where the reader is just accepting of his behaviour? like maybe she's a rebel who has been just abandoned by her friends so she just gives in because actually the attention he gives is really nice when she behaves or maybe she's one of the emperors daughters who is always kind of forgotten about in comparison to her sisters so Thrawns attitude isn't a red flag for her because he treats her so nice and has never once sidelined her or forgotten anything about her! I just think it's an interesting idea to play with like I'm sure Yandere Thrawn would be ecstatic to have a partner who doesn't bat an eye to his behaviour and soaks it up desperately, even the brothel fic you made could fit with Yandere Thrawn (look at how bad the brainrot is LMAOOOOO) ofc I'd have to request some smut in it like maybe he eats her out on his command chair 🤭 (that's all I can think about since the last Yandere thrawn AU you just posted haha make it as crazy as you want it to be tbh I love giving you full reign over this your smut is like high quality wine for me at this point!) Anyways! Before I get completely off track and send you a whole essay of ideas I just wanna say that I cheered when I saw your requests open and you don't have to write this idea or if you prefer to tweak it then that's absolutely fine! I hope you're doing amazing and I'm looking forward to your beautiful creations!!!

Yandere Thrawn is best boy, you cannot change my mind! He can be a murderous psycho or a complete puppy if you play your cards well. Aaaaaaaw thank you dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm really happy you like my silly stuffs, even the smutty ones (i'm so not confident about those), it will be a 2 parters !

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, painting, meet cute

You sigh, sitting alone at the table. You make your drinks twirl in your glass, silently observing the ballroom. Your hand supporting your chin you look at the couples dancing, the lively discussions around the room, the laughs and smiles, the kisses exchanged behind closed doors, and the champagne flowing freely. 

You catch one of your sisters dancing with a suitor, a metal and gaz magnate infinitely rich, they have been glued to one another during the entire party. You turn your head to see another one leading a political discussion with her natural charm, they all laugh at her witty comebacks and believe every word she speaks like gospel. You turn again to see your third sister on the stage, singing softly a beautiful melody, admired by the rest of the audience. 

And then there is you... 

The fourth. 

The last one. 

You do not have the charisma, the talent, or the political gene to rival any of your sisters. No one knows what to do with you. Everyone planned a beautiful future for all your three sisters to make the Empire shine brighter but you? Nobody has any idea. All your professors searched for a secret talent, a hidden jewel, hoping you are simply a late bloomer. 

But nothing came. 

Oh, you tried. You tried so hard! Spending sleepless nights working on your studies to at least hope for a well-made brain. But you are so average, both in looks and intellect. Nothing shines about you, nothing is worth noting. 

You sigh and finish your drink. 

Your only little quirk is your paintings. That’s the only thing distinguishing you from your sisters, you not failing art class. It is quite fondly regarded when you’re five but when you’re an adult princess of the Empire you need other qualities and skills than a good brush move. 

You just wanted to go to art school and live simply, not that overdramatic life wrapped in politics and secrecy. You wish not for the power and the riches, they bring you too much headaches. You want to leave the Palace, find a small apartment, get a cat, and for everyone to forget your existence and leave you in peace. 

But no... Not a chance. 

This very party is a shining example. It is officially a diplomatic meeting between high political top hats but the true goal of your father is to show off his daughters in the hope you find a future husband, wealthy and powerful, and then marry you off. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. 

You are a prop to your father’s politics. Good to lure a man and his funds into the imperial bank. 

And right now you are failing spectacularly. Now that you mind per se, but the man you call father and emperor will inevitably learn about that and you don’t want to anger him. You still value your life. 

You sigh again mentally preparing yourself to stand up and try to “seduce” men, feeling a headache rising, when- 

“Will you allow me to join you?” A rich deep voice makes you turn your head. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn, a hand on the back of the other chair of your table, is looking at you with a small grin and sparkling eyes. 

“Oh...” You can only say, surprised for him to spawn out of nowhere, “I mean yes! Of course Grand Admiral.” 

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bows his head. 

He elegantly sits down next to you. Even his manners are impeccable, full of grace and dexterity. You feel so slow and clumsy next to him. You see his long, delicate fingers hovering over the canapes before choosing one and lifting it to his mouth to bite into it.  

Maker, even Military officers are more dignified than you... You subconsciously straighten your back to at least match the energy he brings to the table, trying not to appear too sluggish.  

You know this man for being the first and only alien to have reached the Grand Admiral rank, which is really impressive, you will give him that. He always struck you as a balanced and polite man. He revealed himself as an art enjoyer on your first meeting and very nicely proposed himself as a model for male anatomy. You accepted and you meet every other month when he comes back from his campaigns. He lets you draw and paint his body in silence for long hours before coming to take a look and give you advice from time to time. 

And then he leaves. And that’s the end of that. 

Or it is the end of your relationship because he seems to roam around the residency aisle of the palace a lot. Numerous times you caught the back of his head disappearing behind a corner when you left your studio after a long painting session. You have no idea what he comes here for in the residency wing of the Palace, nothing interesting for a Grand Admiral around here. 

As a matter of fact, you do have an idea why he comes to this part of the Palace, you suspect he comes to visit one of your sisters regularly. And he must be seriously enamored for risking the wrath of the Emperor! You don’t even want to imagine his reaction if he discovered the Alien got access to one of his dear eldest! 

You just hope the sister in question takes her precautions to not get caught. 

That would also be a huge waste for the Grand Admiral, if an alien such as him managed to reach this rank it means he must be terribly good at what he does! Not that the Emperor shares any tactical info with you, his daughters, it is a simple observation. And he looks rather dashing too... Your vain side would be devastated to learn such a handsome man would be executed, that would be such a loss for the Galaxy you nod to yourself. 

You remain silent, observing the guests and your sisters shining in their dresses and jewelry. They are so radiant, you think with envy. Typically the type of women a man as handsome as the Grand Admiral would pursue, they are in the same league. 

Contrary to you. 

You start feeling a tingle at the back of your neck and you turn your head to discover Grand Admiral Thrawn silently looking in your direction smiling softly. You spin your head again to see what he might be watching with such tenderness in his red gaze, only to see... 

Nothing?  

You frown. 

“It is you I am looking at.” Thrawn’s deep voice rises again, with a touch of controlled amusement. 

You turn back to him with an embarrassed smile. 

“Oh, I just thought you saw... Nothing.” 

He tilts his head slightly. 

“What did you think I saw?” 

“I don’t know, something interesting.” You take your glass to your lips to sip, feeling your throat going dry. 

“But I am looking at something interesting. The most interesting person in this room.” 

Oh okay. 

You know where this is going, you know that sweet sugary tone. 

“What do you want Grand Admiral?” You put your glass back with a clank, “What demand do you want me to ask my father?” 

He cocks his head again, squinting like he didn’t understand your question. 

“I have no demand to ask your father.” 

“Of course you don’t.” You snort. 

They always do that. Come with a sweet voice and a compliment and then beg you to interfere with your father in their favor. 

You are no political genius but you recognize a freeloader when you meet one! 

“You always come to me! You think I am the weakest and easiest to manipulate for your benefit, you come with doe eyes and then ask outrageous demands, in the hope of gaining political powers. Well, I am sorry, go knock on another door!" You speak irritated but low to not start any drama. 

Vice Admiral Thrawn blinks at you. He shakes his head, trying to disarm the situation. 

"I assure you, Your Majesty, I did not come to ask any political favors of any kind.” He reiterates softly, “I simply saw you, so beautifully dressed and dolled up and could not help but come to you.” 

You sniff with disdain. Lies. If he doesn’t want political favors from your father then he wants access again to one of your sister's beds, another classic you had to deal with!  

“I am sorry Grand Admiral.” You say coldly, “I have nothing to give you.” 

His smile widens and you hear a low chuckle. 

“But on the contrary, it is me who wants to give you something, Your Majesty.”   

You look at him suspiciously as he takes something from his pocket. He puts a little box hermetically sealed in front of you. You tentatively take it and open the lid to discover a colorful powder in a tangerine shade. 

You look at him mouth agape and mute with surprise. 

“I heard you needed this shade to finish your latest painting.” He says softly, “I traveled the galaxy and found this powder made from local seashells in an isolated world. I saw it and knew I needed to get it for you.” 

This shade... 

Is the exact one you need, down to a t. 

“How... How did you...?” 

“That is not important, Your Majesty  I know how much you care about this painting and wanted to help you.” 

This painting, you saw it in your dreams. 

It was a flash of a faded memory of your dead mother, smiling at you before the sunset. Long, long ago... 

This powder is the perfect shade for her eyes... 

“Oh dear Maker...” You start sobbing, hiding your mouth behind your hand. 

“Your Majesty?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asks, “Are you all right?” 

You nod, wiping any tear that might have rolled down your cheek, getting back control over your sobs. 

“Yes... Yes. Thank you Grand Admiral, this is a very thoughtful gift.” You smile at him. 

Now you feel dumb to have given him the cold shoulder. 

But how did he know about that painting? You don’t remember talking about it to anyone? You specifically hid it behind a sheet. 

“You are welcome, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure.” 

His hand furtively reaches yours and caresses your finger with the tips of his own. You let him do it. You don’t know why. It is simply not unpleasant... 

“I just thought... I’m going to sound stupid, bear with me, I thought you wanted to use me to get close to my sisters.” You chuckle embarrassed, “It is a bit stupid...” 

“Why would I want to get close to your sisters when you are here?” He asks. 

“Because... I am just me.” You shrug like it is evident, “Nobody knows what to do with me.” 

“I have plenty of ideas of what we could do together.” He whispers, taking your hand gently to kiss it, his red eyes looking brazenly at you. 

You feel heat spreading on your cheeks. 

“Vice Admiral!” You choke “How dare... We are in the middle of a ballroom!” You chastise him. 

“We can leave anytime you desire...” He licks your knuckles with the tip of his warm tongue, looking insolently at you. 

You feel yourself melting into a puddle at that gaze on you. So many unchaste images cross his read shining eyes while devoring you. You feel stripped naked before him. You gulp and turn your head away, you cannot hold his gaze, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

He chuckles and kisses your hand again. 

“I am merely joking, Your Majesty. I know you cannot simply fool around with any man. But maybe  you will allow me this dance?” He stands up, still holding your hand but awaits your response. 

You gingerly look at him. Dear Maker, he is so tall... 

He looks at you with a small smile, gently squeezing your hand. 

“I... Can allow one dance.” You concede. 

“You are so generous with me, Your Majesty. I thank you.”  

He helps you stand and guides you to the dancefloor, his warm hand on your lower back. He spins toward you and grabs your hand, pressing your two bodies together. 

“Hold on to me, Your Majesty.” He says sensually. 

And he makes you spin and twirl on the dancefloor, holding you so close you can feel his high body warmth through your clothes. He is a very, very good dancer you realize.  

The dance starts normal and modest as it should be but it slowly dissolves into... something else.  

You can feel his large hands roaming your entire body, playing with the straps of your dress, raising the hem of your dress to touch your naked thigh, he grabs the pin and frees your hair in your back, he grabs your hips to press them against his in a sultry move, almost grabbing your butt... 

It feels like he is making love to you, fully clothed and in public. You fail to put a stop to it and protect your modesty, he is just so good at it that you blindly follow him, losing track of time. 

You gulp, losing your breath as he makes your head spin dangerously. He never once stops looking at you, devouring you with his shiny rubies, hunger lying deep in them. 

You are breathless, straps down your shoulders, your skirt high on your thighs and your legs trembling terribly, threatening to give out under you if Grand Admiral Thrawn wasn't holding you firmly against his tall body. 

“Gra.. Grand Admiral...” You can only say. 

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty? We are simply dancing, like I promised we would only do.” 

“This is not a dance! This is...” You try to get angry at him but your beating heart only pumps blood to your cheeks even more. 

“You did not stop me once.” He tilts his head, “If you said no I would have stopped immediately.” 

“Someone could see us! Someone-” 

“There are a lot of people around us. They hide you perfectly, no one will ever know. You can let go entirely, let me guide you...” He whispers sultrily in your ear.  

His hand on your back slowly caresses his way down towards your butt and his hand on your leg slowly brushes his way up towards your crotch. 

This... This is so indecent! 

So scandalous! 

So obscene! 

So... 

You should slap him across the face and ditch him there but you want more of it. You feel fire starts in your loin, slowly spreading in your veins, coursing through your entire body.  

Quite unexpectedly he lets you go. You look at him without understanding, he grins and kisses your hand gallantly again. 

“Have a nice evening, Your Majesty. Thank you for this... Delicious moment. I will see you for our next modeling session.” He rolls his ‘R’ like a purr and leaves. 

Did he... 

Is he the one who ditched you? At the height of the tension? When you were about to say ‘yes’ to him? You remain standing still in the middle of the dancefloor, mouth agape, breathless, hair and dress in a mess. You walk back to your seat, your legs wobbly at every step. 

You feel played. 

How dares he come around to set you on fire and just leave you, arms dangling, craving for so much more?! Such a ... Tease! You readjust your dress modestly, making sure none of your sisters saw anything of this... Outrageous display. None of them are looking in your direction, they are fully focused on their friends or songs. 

You sigh, feeling like an idiot. Typically a thing that wouldn’t have happened to your sisters, they would have either put a stop to it or enchanted him so much that he would have dropped to his knees, begging for more of them. 

You're the only one dunce enough to get played like that. 

But... You cannot help but like it. It felt good to be someone’s center of the universe, even for two fleeting minutes, feeling his daring hands exploring your body so... immodestly. No man ever treated you like that, even less a man so handsome... 

You shake your head. Stop that! It is blind lust speaking. 

Your eyes lay down on the little box. You reopen it, to be sure of its content. Exactly the pigment you needed, the exact shade and vibrance...  

How did he know? 

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The first time he saw you was during an Imperial ceremony, from far away. The youngest of all the daughters, dressed in gold, pearls, and Orichalc. He was still a simple commodore back then, without as much power to himself. He was from very far away, not able to discern the features of your face, but it was clear from your body language and posture you didn’t want to be here. 

Like himself. 

Pryce was unavailable, a rarity for a shark like her to miss a political event like that, but she pressed him to go, to form alliances with as many senators as possible. How on the Warrior’s Blue Csilla was he supposed to do that? He is surrounded by sharks and snakes ready to eat each other for their selfish benefits, something so beyond him he simply forgets this is actually a thing people do instead of worrying for the good of the many... 

Saying he was terrified would be false, but saying he was comfortable would be a lie.  

It takes a lot to make him uncomfortable, but politicians always do the trick.  

So in a weird way, he felt kinship towards you. He knew nothing about you, he was not even sure of your rank at that very moment, but like him, you wished you weren't there at that moment. 

The massive difference was that he was anonymously sitting in the grandstand while you were on the big stage, to be looked at and admired like a pretty doll by everyone else. How uncomfortable it must feel... He felt sorry for you. 

Despite your discomfort, you accomplished your duties with grace, obeying your role. It was commendable of you.  

“Who are those young ladies on the side of the stage?” He leaned towards his sit neighbor. 

“Do you live under a rock? They are the Emperor’s daughters, the Imperial princesses.” He got chastised. 

He nodded thankfully and returned to his silent observation of the ceremony. 

It was not so long in retrospect, but isolated on this stage it must have felt like an eternity for you. 

After the ceremony was the real challenge for him, for two hours he had to remain comfortably seated in silence to observe a stage, now he was truly meant to go out of his way and meet politicians.  

He had to take refuge to the buffet or the corners of the room more than one time. Why can’t he read and anticipate politicians’ maneuvers? Why was he so blind to this type of warfare? After a new uncomfortable discussion that ended up with him pissing off his interlocutor because they couldn’t meet eyes to eye he caught a cozy area, almost hidden behind heavy curtains with sofas and a fountain, isolated from the rest of the busy party. He entered, hoping to find some peace and quiet but he found a young woman here, dressed in gold, pearl, and Orichalc. 

“Your Majesty.”Thrawn bowed respectfully, “I did not want to disturb your peace, I will leave.” He immediately excused himself and turned to go away 

When... 

“You may stay, sir.” You simply responded, not even looking up from your drink twirling in your glass. “I do not mind...” 

“I thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and took a seat. 

Not on the same sofa as you, it would be terribly improper to impose his presence on a woman like that. He chose one a little removed from you to leave you in peace. 

He was gathering his thoughts, but you kept catching his eyes, something about you was...interesting him. And he didn’t know what, nor the true nature of his interest in you. 

“What?” You asked out of the blue, “You keep giving me side glance, you never saw a woman before?” 

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It was impolite of me” 

“Yes, it is. My father killed men for less than that.” You added acidic. 

Something in your tone and demeanor... Like a heavy lassitude, like you were crushed by something. But what? 

“I will keep it in mind, then. Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty.” 

You sniffed with disdain before looking back down to your drink. 

“So it’s you....” You finally added after several minutes of silence, “the Navy’s favorite pet.” 

He turned back his gaze to you, squinting. 

“The Navy’s pet?” He repeated politely. 

“The only alien in the Navy, and a Commodore at that. You pissed off a lot of people, my congratulations.” 

He was not able to judge if you were sincere or sarcastic. 

“I do my best to do my job. But some people never seem satisfied, I cannot do anything more to content them, I am afraid.” He humbly admits. 

“Like me.” You let out with a little voice. 

You did not say more and he did not pryied. 

“Why are you not enjoying the party, Your Majesty?” He asked, curious, “Your sisters are getting their fill.” 

You snarled in response. 

“If you came here to flaunt my dear sisters in my face you can leave, sir.” 

“My apologies, Princess. I was simply curious why a young adult would not enjoy such a party.” He explained. 

You turned your head and for the first time your gazes crossed. 

“What about you? You do not seem the type to enjoy parties either.” 

“My young years are behind me.” 

You frowned. 

“Are they?” 

Well technically he is still considered rather young for Chiss standards with their longer lifespan but for humans, he is middle-aged. But you don’t know that. 

“I am over 45.” He informed you. 

The way your beautiful human eyes rounded up in surprise was quite delectable. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I am not.” 

“You barely look 35.” You responded astonished. 

He came to understand it was a compliment on his physical appearance. Something he was not used to. 

“I thank you, your Majesty. You look ravishing yourself.” 

He stopped dead. Was ‘ravishing’ too much? How do you respond politely to a woman appreciating your physical appearance, and what is the proper and polite response when that woman is an Imperial Princess? 

You gauged him up and down before exploding laughing. 

Not one of those overly musical and false laughs of politicians and freeloaders, a true, pure, and sincere fit of laughter. Something coming directly from the heart. 

Something fresh. 

He remained still, not knowing how to react. Your laugh was quite pleasant to hear, and the smile you tried to hide behind your hand enhanced your features gracefully.  

“Oh Maker.” You breathe to calm down, “You are quite funny, sir!” 

He failed to see what was funny in his response but he was not starting to question a Princess. You sighed deeply, still shaken by the remnants of your laugh. At least you were smiling now, that heavy sentiment hovering over you seemed to have disappeared. At least for now. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” He diplomatically responded. 

“So tell me truly, why did you come hiding here?” You asked, a bit more lively. 

This time he was the one looking down at his drink for a fleeting moment. 

“Politics... Evade me entirely.” He finally reveals. 

“Same.” 

He looked at you curiously. 

“But you are a Princess of the Empire.” 

“That doesn’t mean I can lead. I dislike politics. I prefer my studio.”  

A studio? The type he is hoping for? 

“What type of studio?”  

“Oh ... Just.” You gave him a side glance and lowered your gaze, embarrassed “No. You will find it stupid.” 

“I will not judge, Your Majesty.” He solemnly declared. 

“I ... Paint. A little...”You revealed, fidgeting your fingers. 

His heart jumped and all of his social anxiety and restraints lifted up like a cloud. You paint? It’s marvelous news! He loves paintings, why not tell him sooner? 

“This is not stupid, Your Majesty. Art is a very noble and respectable hobby, I am a humble art enjoyer myself.” He explained calmly, keeping his growing enthusiasm on a leash. “Would you have pictures of your work to show me by any chance?” He daringly asked 

You looked at him absolutely horrified.  

Please, do not look at him like that...It displeases him, even though he doesn’t quite know why. 

He likes it when women are comfortable with him, it is gratifying to be perceived as a protector. He wants you to feel relaxed around him. 

Especially you 

For some unknown reasons... 

“I... No!” You hurriedly responded. 

He tilted his head. He wanted to see some of your work. It is so important for artists to be seen and perceived for them to flourish in their talents. 

He just wanted to give you a positive boost... But you denied him. 

“I understand.” He responded, a bit disappointed to have lost this opportunity to speak about art. 

You looked at him, embarrassed before rising on your feet to close the curtain entirely, giving the little salon a cozy and very intimate atmosphere. You took out your imager of your little purse and approached him shyly, suddenly self-conscious. 

He looked at you approaching with an impassible expression, but hope constricted his heart. 

“Do you promise to not mock me?” You asked like you weren't an Imperial Princess with significant powers. 

No. At this very instant you were a shy, but hopeful young artist, ready to expose herself intimately to a fellow art enjoyed, pressing your imager against your chest.  

You were taking a leap of faith... 

And he was ready to catch you in his arms. 

“I never mock an artist, Your Majesty.” He declared with all the serious in the world. 

You gulped and sat down next to him, handing him the imager with a slightly trembling hand. 

“This is not very good...” You warned him. 

Who cares? If you are a beginning artist with a low level he will be more than happy to give you references and art currents to study to help you in your art journey. 

But you were actually really good with a brush. No need to get all shy about it, you should be proud of your paintings! 

You studied a lot of subjects and tried a lot of different techniques and materials, your style could be soft and appeasing with pastel colors, bold and brash with vibrant brush strokes, or gloomy and eerie, creating a haunting atmosphere. 

But no matter how different your paintings might be there was one very clear constant for him. 

Your innate good and soft nature. 

Not in a fragile or virginal way, no. But something bright, shining like a real sun, luminous, warm, inescapable, and unstoppable... 

How could you be Emperor Palpatine’s daughter? 

How was that possible? 

He silently observed your work under your worried gaze, awaiting his judgment. It is clear you hid this part of yourself from everyone else, and maybe he was the very first person who took interest in your hobby, the very first one you let gaze upon yourself so intimately like that... 

Because it was very intimate, he knew it. He stripped your soul naked before him and he ogled without any shame, taking as many details as he could. 

And he very much liked what he saw. 

Where were gentle souls like yours in the galaxy? They appeared so rare and he would very much appreciate one in his life. A friend honest and deeply good by nature... 

That sounds terribly enticing to him. 

He knew nobody on Coruscant, spending his entire leaves in art galleries. But maybe now he could visit them with a nice company at his arm? Simple rendezvous filled with passionate discussions about art, speaking and debating a subject until you both lose your voices and only look into each other eyes to continue the discussion. 

That sounds terribly nice... 

But you are a Princess and him a Commodore. How would that work? He was not even sure he had the right to be in the same room as you.  

But the idea was just so nice... An art partner, being friends with an actual artist, getting to witness the intricate process of creating a masterpiece.  

That is just so alluring to him... 

“So?” you asked with a short breath. 

“This is high-quality work, Princess. You have an undeniable talent and obviously worked really hard to get to this level.” He praised, “I can only encourage you to continue.” 

“You think... I could live on my brush one day?” You inquired, hope lying in your voice. 

“It is a real possibility, I can see it happening.” He nodded with a tight encouraging smile. 

“... Thank you.” You let him knew, “I...” 

You seemed to be about to say something else but suddenly jumped on your feet, the heat signals of your face through the roof. 

“I need to go! Good evening Sir!” And like that you left him, speechless, still holding your precious imager. 

Maybe the tension of showing your art to someone else for the first time was too much for you. This was quite endearing and he let out a little chuckle amused. 

He resumed his art exploration on your imager, he will find a way to send it back to you. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

He didn’t sent it back. 

He kept it, he has it every day in his inner pocket, close to his heart. He rummages through it when he can, seeing you through the pictures, getting to know you through each paint stroke.  

He innocently thought about you two becoming art friends to satisfy his knowledge cravings, but instead, he developed an... interesting bound with you. 

Without your knowledge.  

He tried several times to come to see you at your art studio to give it back, only to remain at the door, silently spying on you painting through the cracked door. 

He wished not to disturb the holy inspiration flow so precious to artists. He would break your entire rhythm if he knocked at the door and stopped you. 

How could he dare disturb the process of art? Especially yours? So he remained at the door for long hours until you decided to exit the room or he heard someone come by. 

When you weren’t here he forced the door open to tidy up the place and look at your last pieces. 

But one day you were simply preparing yourself to paint so he entered. Unannounced, unwanted he walked in like he owned the place. You didn’t see him at first, focusing on your flimsy sheets when you raised back on your feet to discover him observing your latest piece with attention, his hand holding his chin, appreciating every detail. 

“Oh dear Maker!” You jumped back. 

He turned his head to you with a tight smile. 

“My apologies, Princess.” He said not at all sorry. 

“What are you doing here?!” You asked in some sort of panick. 

“Your father requested my presence today, and I had hoped to be able to catch you paint.” He mundanely explained it like it was evidence. 

“And why is that?” You asked suspiciously, hiding some sketches behind you. 

“My apologies Princess, I got ahead of myself. I have something belonging to you and wanted to give back.” 

He took out the small imager of his pocket to hand it to you. He already has several copies and backups of all your art. 

“My imager!” You shouted, relieved. “Where did you get it?” 

“You actually gave it to me years ago when I was still a Commodore.” He explains gently. 

You took the imager back and looked in the gallery, with an elated smile.  

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, Mister.” You raise back your clear gaze at him. 

Of course, you knew his name, he was the only alien of the fleet, surely his name traveled the corridors of the Palace and he knew it. But Politeness and etiquette demanded you asked. 

And you are a very polite woman. 

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed to you. 

“I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. I am delighted to meet you again, Your Majesty.” 

You elegantly bowed back. 

“I am (Y/n) (L/n).” 

“Are you not a Palpatine?” Thrawn tilted his head. 

You bite your lower lips, like you spoke too much. 

“I... Prefer to identify with  my mother’s name.” You explain. 

“It is a very beautiful name, it suits you marvelously.” He reassured you, “Do you mind if I remain for your next session? I long to observe an artist in their element.” 

“Oh well...” You spin your head towards the holo clock on the wall and all of your glee seems to melt, your smile disappearing, “I am afraid there won’t be a session today... Yet again.” 

Thrawn squinted. 

“Is there a problem, your Majesty?” 

“No its...” You sighed deeply, “Another model ditched me apparently. He should have been here an hour ago...” 

“If you allow me, your Majesty, I can replace him if you wish.” Thrawn proposed immediately. 

“I...” You purse your lips, thinking “I usually book models for three to four hours, are you sure you have that time?” 

“I do today.” He answered politely, hiding his enthusiasm, “By a splendid hasard I have nothing booked for the rest of the day. I can model for you as long as you need.” 

He very carefully planned today’s agenda to have his afternoon and evening free after his visit to the Emperor. It will postpone some operations on the Chimaera, but nothing he cannot catch up on, he made sure of it. 

You hesitated, your gaze traveling from Thrawn’s stern face to your flimsy sheets. 

It is the fifth model ditching you. 

The fifth Thrawn got rid off.  

Cleanly. 

Discreetly. 

When he entered your studio in your absence he got the occasion to detail your work and picked up on your... attraction, towards those young men. 

Something that infuriated him greatly, even though he wasn’t sure why. He never felt like that before, longing for your presence, to get to know you better and well. This is a very new sentiment to him, he desires to be with you, to listen to you talk, to help you, to just be here in the same room as you. You could be silent and still, sitting on a pedestal and he would sit and look at you with all his attention, trying to pierce your secrets. 

Why are you doing that to him? Where does this deep sentiment of covetousness come from? Right now he just wants to grab your hand and flee away from the Imperial Palace with you, take the first shuttle and take off for the never-ending universe, take you far away from that man you call father and Emperor for you both to live free. 

He always feels so cold all day long, but in your vicinity, everything warms up, the ice melts, and the sun dares from its rays on his flesh, bringing him back to life and waking him up from a long coma. Laying his gaze on you he feels like opening his eyes for the first time and taking his first breath. 

Is that... Love? 

Did Cupid finally hit him with an arrow after ignoring him all his life? 

He quite likes how that sounds. 

He wants more. So, so much more... 

But for now, he looked at you hesitating, patient, with a tight polite smile of someone only desiring to help. 

“Well... If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I would appreciate it. What about a portrait to start?” 

“But of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve.” He bowed his head again deeply pleased that his plan worked. 

He cannot help but wonder, how do you see him? Is he handsome or repulsive to your eyes? Is he powerful or weak? 

He will soon know it through your primary sketches... 

------- 

“What are you thinking about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” You call him back to reality 

Thrawn blinks, realizing he is posing for you once again in your studio. It is quite rare that he lets his memories take the forefront of his mind but his mind drifted off observing you painting him like that. 

You took great care to not look at him in the eyes since that party and he is greatly pleased by the turmoil he stirred within you. Today again you cannot look in his direction without your face’s heat signals rising. 

How delectable... 

You draped a long fabric on him and gave him a staff to hold, ordering his pose, and started to paint. Holding the pose is hard but that only pushes him to appreciate art even more. He feels your focused gaze skimming his skin, detailing his muscles, observing the crooks and crannies of his flesh, taking in the different shades of blue of his skin. 

He feels his heart accelerating with your eyes traveling his naked form. 

He never exposed himself in such a way to anybody before. 

It is so intimate. 

So erotic... 

He feels great under your gaze, he feels... Empowered. Like he could become what he was always meant to be under your brush, that through your gaze he truly could realize himself. He feels his chest puffing up with pride and satisfaction. That surge of warmth spreading in his chest and heart when your eyes skim his skin feels so soft and right... 

“You truly have mesmerizing eyes, I hope I will be able to do them justice...” You say almost to yourself, fully focused on your sketch. 

“We could do a series of portraits after, you could study them in detail.” He proposes. 

“Thank you Grand Admiral.” You smile. 

“Please, call me Thrawn, Your Majesty. I am a simple man at your art service in this room.” 

“Then call me (Y/n).” You decide, “Let’s just be a man and a woman for this afternoon.” 

“I simply cannot, Your Majesty. You are an Imperial Princess, I cannot address you with such familiarity.” He counters. 

Who is he to address you so casually? He will not strip you down of your titles and grandeur.  

You pout, visibly displeased by his response. 

“All right...” You say very disappointed. 

He clenches his jaw, conscious of his misstep. 

“If you truly desire it, I will address you as you wish (Y/n).” He responds softly. 

But in his mind he will keep using your titles, they suit you so well. 

You nodd enthusiastically, relieved by his new response. 

“Do you want to take a look?” You ask. 

He descends from the pedestal and passes on a gown to modestly cover himself, but he doesn’t close it, coming to admire your genius on the canvas, discovering himself through your own eyes. 

You take a picture with your imager that he gave back, adding it to your collection. His heart sprints at the view of the imager in a very Pavlovian response. 

He had... other uses for your imager. 

He will never admit it, not even under torture, but... He furiously masturbated several times using your art collection on the imager. He has no rational explanation for it. One day he was terribly bothered, to his utmost inconvenience, and hoped that some nice paintings could distract him. 

But instead  

He just got such a clear picture of you, of your good nature, of your amazingly sweet personality that he became hard like wood, worsening the situation. He found a self-portrait of yourself, looking straight back at him with such a clear and assured gaze... And he just lost it. 

He fisted himself, entranced by those expressive eyes looking brazenly at him. 

He never came so hard before, his entire body struck by lightning, setting fire to his very soul. He was left breathless and disoriented, his large chest rising up and down rapidly, your impudent gaze fixing him intently. 

The high was so high the descent was devastating, leaving him craving more of you, by any means necessary... 

That’s when he decided to enter your studio for the first time. 

Thrawn discovers the canvas. 

He discovers himself slouching regally on a throne like he is presiding over a tedious political case and is about to give his royal judgment. 

You remain a step behind, fidgeting your fingers. 

“What do you think?” You ask a bit worried. 

An idea flashes in his mind, a bad idea, but oh so delicious... 

“Technically very interesting and avant-garde. But there is something...” He teases sadistically. 

“Something? What? What is wrong? What did I do wrong?” You immediately panick. 

“Are you familiar with male anatomy?” He asks, falsely investigating. 

Of course, you are familiar with it, he saw you paint it plenty of times. 

“Yes! I am!” You protest. 

“Let’s see...” He gently takes your hands to place them on his large pecs. 

Your eyes round up in surprise and your breath is caught in your throat. 

“Feel the muscles, how they are built in the body.” He casually instructs while he takes your hands for a jaunt on his body, caressing himself with your soft palms. 

“Hum... Grand Admiral?” You try. 

“Feel where they start and end, where they cross paths and attach to the bones.” He slowly pushes your hands down his abdominals. 

You audibly gasp as he directs your hands on his naked body. While your body heat skyrockets in your embarrassment and confusion, he revels in the softness of your touch and the freshness of your hands on his thick skin. 

Your touch is delightful. Delicate and tender. He has all the pain in the world to not moan in bliss... 

He presses your palms on his abdominals, pushing them farther and farther south. 

“It is very important you understand how the muscles twist and bend.” He lectures you like you didn’t already know that. 

“Grand Admiral...” You press him more and more embarassed. 

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. 

He takes another one and you do the same. 

He finally blocks you against the desk where you keep all your colors and pigments. You jolt when your back hits the wooden table, caged between his half-naked body and the furniture. He stops your hands on his groin region, right above his cock.  

He looks at your flustered face intently, how you evade his gaze and your heat signals are the worst he ever saw. He refrains from licking your face as he so desperately wants to. 

Your sex is irradiating a warm light to his infrared vision, well awake and demanding attention. He takes great pride in the reaction of your body to his daring advances, but you also appear tense. 

“Feel how my male body is different from your female body, feel it deeply... within you...” He whispers, looming forward to press his forehead against yours to look at your eluding gaze. He pulls your hands to wrap your arms around his waist as his own hands come to seize your hips, slightly slipping them under your corseted top to caress your smooth human skin. 

You cannot help the gasp escaping you, shocked to your core but indubitably... interested. Curious and craving for more. 

Still, the uneasy feeling remains in the pearl of your eyes. 

He presses your hips together and rolls his pelvis, delighting himself in your hot and bothered reaction. Your hands are trembling and sweaty but they hold on his lower back. You slowly and timidly raise your gaze to meet his, mouth agape and with a short breath. 

You gulp as he smiles, satisfied.  

Are you a virgin? Will he be your first? 

His heart pumps harder! 

You first... But more importantly your last! 

He lowers himself with a satisfied grin, but right before he is about to kiss you, he suddenly grabs your ass to lift you up and put you on the table, making you yelp in surprise. His hands lift your skirt to caress your round thighs, dividing them open to slide between them swiftly. 

His blood is beating furiously, his hands caressing and exploring your gorgeous body eagerly, mentally pesting against those useless clothes hiding your naked perfection to his burning rubies. You let out a weak moan between precocious fear and irrefutable excitement. 

Your hands circle his shoulders and you dig your nails into his blue flesh, to his utmost pleasure, pulling you tighter towards you. 

Everything comes to a halt as you look into each other eyes with heavy breathing.  

He wants you. 

He craves you. 

And he will have you! 

In one way or another, you will be his and his alone.  

He will rip you out of your father’s claws and build you a life of comfort and love.  He will hold you close and tight, showering you with adoration every day, worshipping at your feet. 

Thrawn taunts you with his lips, hovering them over your parted mouth, making your throat go dry with anticipation. He teases you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, before letting out a low growl as your gazes meet, you cannot help but moisten your plump lips with your tongue with a short breath.  

Thrawn hand seizes your lower back to pull you close and tight against him, his second hand embracing the back of your skull to pull you ever so slightly closer to his tempting grin. 

You look at each other in a suspended moment, listening to each other heavy heartbeat, feeling the sheer tension in the room before Thrawn lowers himself with the intent to kiss you. 

“Please... Do not hurt me...” You ask with a voice so low and feeble he barely hears you, tears in your eyes. 

He stops his motion. 

Why would- 

“Sorry for my late arrival Princess, I-” 

A man enters the studio unannounced, absolutely ruining the moment. You yelp in surprise, pulling on your skirt to cover your bare legs while Thrawn merely turns his upper body towards the intruder to shoot him with his glare, making no effort to cover his modesty. 

The man is clearly embarrassed to have walked in during an intimate moment, but Thrawn wants him more than embarrassed. He wants him repentant and desperate.  

“I am sorry, Sir.” You jump off the table, flustered, pushing your hair behind your ear to put up a front, “Thrawn, I present you Sir Hatway, a curator of an art gallery I invited to judge my art.” You gesture towards the impudent. 

The man clearly doesn't know what to do with himself in front of a naked Chiss. 

“Sir Hatway, this is Vice Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy and one of my favorite model.” 

Thrawn heart speeds up at the compliment, but outside he is still shooting down Hatway, frowning, displeased. 

“Should I... Wait outside, Princess?” The impolite man asks. 

‘Yes he should!’ Thrawn thinks, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“No! No...” You hurriedly respond, “It is all right, you didn’t interrupt anything. We can look at my paintings now.” 

Thrawn gaze slides to you. 

What do you mean ‘didn’t interrupt anything’? He wants to ask impudently.  

He chastises himself. You are an imperial Princess. You cannot just fool around with anyone like that without consequences from your father, you must preserve your reputation. 

The insolent nods unsure, still uneasy, before turning towards Thrawn with a smile he surely hoped to be affable, but honestly is just pathetic. He takes a step forward with his hand extended. 

“Please to meet you Grand Admiral Thrawn.” 

Thrawn consciously takes his time to gauge him up and down from all his height, straightening his back to look at him with all the smugness his rank conferred him. He finally took the man’s hand to shake it. 

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Hatway.” Thrawn tightens his grip until the man winces in pain, “You will obviously not say a word of what you saw.” He asks, deadly cold. 

“N-no, sir. I saw nothing and know nothing...” He pitifully responds 

“Good...” The Chiss nods, venomous. 

“You can go, Grand Admiral.” You say, fidgeting your fingers, still visibly agitated, “We are done for today.” 

“If you allow me, Your Majesty. I am interested to witness your audition.” 

“I...” You bite your lower lips again, thinking, “All right.” You concede. 

When Thrawn exits the changing room in his pristine white uniform, Sir Hatway is no longer the pitiful man who entered the studio. He stands proudly before your paintings, detailing them and judging them imperially. 

You remain a bit behind, full of apprehension and hope. Like the day you showed Thrawn your imager. 

“This is not very good to be honest with you, Your Majesty. This is amateurish at best, and I am being generous.” 

Thrawn stops dead in his tracks. Did he hear right? 

“But I...” You try. 

“It will not be possible I am afraid. You should abandon painting entirely, this is not a world for a fragile flower like you...” 

Thrawn takes a single glance at the painting you are presenting right now. 

Your dear mother’s portrait. 

You spend long hours on this one, pouring your tears and blood in the paint to bring it to life and honor that woman. 

And that... Uncultured fool rejects it?! Calls it amateurish?! Thrawn never saw such passion in a portrait in a long long time! 

He heard enough. 

He walks to the man with three long strides, catching both of your attention. 

“Sir. I will invite you to take back your words immediately.” He said very coldly, camping in front of the fool, towering over him with all his height. 

“Who do you think you are to teach my job?!” The impudent retorted, any traces of the former shy man long gone. 

“Who do you think YOU are?! Is your heart so dry to be so blind before such a shining jewel, before such explicit talent, before such an evident masterpiece? I can not let you say such things.” 

The man looks at Thrawn afraid and confused but sticks to his guns. 

“No! It is my job to evaluate artists that wish to enter our art gallery and she doesn’t have the level expected.” 

“Can you not see she is ahead of her time? That she is avant-garde in so many aspects? I pity your gallery Sir, we must only find mediocrity inside.” 

“Are you insulting me?!”  

“You insulted her first.”  

“Grand admiral please...” You try to calm them both 

Thrawn raises his hand to sush you. 

“She has no talents, and no future in the art world. I am doing her a favor by telling her early.” He bites. 

Thrawn feels about to punch this man. 

Instead, he takes a step back and takes out his pair of gloves from his pocket, and throws them at the impudent’s face. 

“I will protect her honor, I challenge you sir.” 

“What?! No! This is getting ridiculous, stop-” You try to interject again. 

“Fine! Whenever you damn please Alien!” The fool retorts. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @leo4242564

[onceuponastory]

all i need to hear - bucky barnes x reader

'Cause it all means nothing, my dear If I can't be holding you near So tell me you love me, 'Cause that's all that I need to hear - all i need to hear by the 1975

Plot: A few months ago, Bucky broke up with Y/N, and he’s regretted it ever since. All he wants to do is tell her the truth about how he feels...if he can only work up the courage to. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of a break up if that makes you sad, a few mentions of Bucky’s past as the winter soldier (but nothing too graphic), and the anxiety he has afterwards. As always, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: I’ve had The 1975′s new album on repeat ever since it came out, and this is one of my fave songs from it, so I just had to write something for it. Not beta’d, so any and all mistakes are my own.

“Bucky, you’re staring again.” Sam’s voice cuts through Bucky’s thoughts. Bucky huffs.

“I do stare. As you keep telling me, it’s my thing, remember?”

“Okay, but you’ve been staring at Y/N for what feels like at least an hour now.” This time, Bucky doesn’t have a witty comeback for that. Because he knows it’s true. Noticing his lack of response, Sam’s face softens. “You really miss her, don’t you?” He does. He misses her so badly it hurts every part of him. This isn’t heartbreak anymore. It’s a full-blown aching, one that consumes his every waking moment. Sam doesn’t even need an answer. He can tell right away. “You know you could just tell her how you feel, right?” Bucky glances over at Y/N again, watching as she laughs with Sharon. She looks so happy. Bucky thought, hoped that she was missing him too. But she seems so happy without him. Maybe he doesn’t matter to her anymore. He wouldn’t blame her for that, though.

Things between them both started off so well. Then again, they always do. They were happy, and so in love. But Bucky just had to fuck everything up, just like usual. After everything that he did as the Winter Soldier, with so much blood shed because of him, Bucky Barnes convinced himself that he wasn’t deserving of love. Especially not from someone like Y/N. At first, he tried to hide those thoughts and push through, like he’s been doing ever since he escaped from HYDRA. Yet soon, those thoughts began to intensify, and soon they were eating him alive. 

“What if she left him after realising just how awful he is? What if someone from his past hurt her? Or worse, what if he lost control again and hurt her?”

So, Bucky broke up with her for her own safety. And he’s regretted it ever since. He wants to apologise to her in the hopes that they can start again. But he can’t. The look on her face as her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled as she tried to keep it together still haunts him to this day. It’s worse than it was with any of his victims. Because this time, he was in control the whole time. He was the one who took the knife and twisted it even deeper. That’s not what a good person does, someone who’s deserving of love. That’s what a monster does. He can’t put her through that pain again. What Bucky needs to do is suffer in silence, like he deserves.

Suddenly, Y/N looks over and catches Bucky staring. For a second, the tiniest flicker of a smile crosses her lips, and Bucky feels himself smiling too. For a moment, it’s as if things between them are back to normal, and that nothing ever happened. Once more, they’re in love, and happy again. That smile, the one he loves more than anything in the world, fills Bucky with an overwhelming desire to get up, walk over to Y/N and kiss her all over, just like he used to. A desire that fills his entire being. Yet, just as he’s about to get up, Y/N’s face falls and she looks away. That look tells him everything he needs to know about how she feels about him. Bucky suddenly feels a pit open up in the depths of his stomach. One that he wishes would swallow him whole. With one last look at Y/N, Bucky’s gaze shifts to his lap, and he fiddles with his fingers.

“No. I can’t.” He mumbles sadly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A few days later, Bucky stands outside Y/N’s apartment, willing himself to knock. He holds the letter in his hands, running his non-metal hand along the edge of the paper. Inside is a complete explanation of why he broke up with her, an apology, and an admission that he still loves her. In fact, he never stopped loving her, not once. He’s written and rewritten it countless times, and even now, he’s not sure it makes any sense. It’s too late now though. Although he can already feel the familiar pit forming in his stomach by the minute, and he considers just dropping the letter at her door and running away. “No. I said I’d make amends, and here I am.” Of course, when his therapist told him to make amends, she meant everyone he hurt as the Winter Soldier. But Bucky hurt Y/N deeply too, and she deserves to read the truth, if even just for closure. 

That is, if he can work up the courage to knock on her fucking door. As he lightly raps the door, Bucky’s stomach churns whilst he thinks of her potential reaction. Either she starts crying and tells him to fuck off, or she punches him and then tells him to fuck off. He would deserve it, though. Of course, Bucky wants more than anything for her to tell him that she feels the same about him, and then they’ll be together again. That’s how things would go in an ideal world, the kind romanticised in fairytales and romcoms. But Bucky Barnes’ life has never been like that, and he knows there’s no way it’ll start now. He’s not the hero, he’s the villain.

The door opens, and Y/N and Bucky are soon face to face again. Bucky feels his breath hitch in his throat. She’s still so beautiful. “Oh. It’s you.” Y/N mumbles. Even though he knows she has every right to, Bucky hates how disappointed she sounds at the sight of him. “What is it?”

“Um, hi! This is for you.” Bucky announces, passing over the letter. He swears he almost has a paper cut from the amount of times he’s been fidgeting with it. “You don’t have to read it now…or ever. It’s just an explanation for everything.” 

“Thanks.” The air around them is suddenly even more awkward, something Bucky didn’t even think was possible. It makes him feel even more guilty. Only a few months ago, they could talk for hours and hours without getting bored with each other. And now, because of him, they’ll never be like that again.

“Y/N listen, I just want to say that-”

“What, Bucky? What do you want? You break up with me out of nowhere, give me complete radio silence, and now you’re here, weeks later?” She snaps. Her words sting, but Bucky knows he deserves them.

“I know. I have no right to be here, not now, or ever.” He agrees, his voice hitching as he feels a lump growing in his throat. “My letter explains it more, but even if you don’t read it, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you. And…I understand if you never want to speak to me again.” As Y/N digests his words, her brows furrowing, Bucky can tell he’s about to start crying. Guilt fills his veins all over again. As he turns to go, he hesitates for a moment, before saying the one thing that’s been on his mind ever since the breakup. “For what it’s worth, I never stopped loving you, not even once. I regret what I did to you every day. I know it’s not an excuse, but please don’t ever think it was your fault, or that it was because I stopped caring for you.” 

“Bucky-”

“No. It’s okay.” He lies, cutting her off. “I just needed to tell you. Don’t worry, I’ll go.” Once he’s out of ear and eyeshot around the corner, Bucky hisses as the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, even though he knows nobody can hear him. “I’m sorry.”

Later that night, Bucky sits alone in his apartment, just as he does every other night since he and Y/N broke up. It seems as if he’s destined to be alone forever now. It hurts, but that's what he deserves. Soft music plays from his record player, some old 40s music. Y/N used to love dancing to that kind of music…even though she thought it was old-fashioned. Bucky feels his stomach twisting again as more happy memories with Y/N fill his mind again. He’s the worst person in the world. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. When Bucky opens it, he’s surprised to see Y/N there. Her eyes are red from crying. Before he can even say anything, Y/N says: “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that, right? A complete, and utter, fucking asshole.” Although her words sting, Bucky knows he deserves them. “That was for not even talking to me about how you were feeling, and just letting me suffer in silence.” Bucky nods, still slightly dazed by her standing in front of him. “Sorry though.”

“No, no. I deserved that.”

“I know I can’t even begin to imagine the things you’ve gone through, but fuck, Bucky, if you’d have just talked to me, I would’ve helped you work through your fears! You didn’t have to suffer in silence. I love you, and as your girlfriend, I was there to help you!” Her choice of words makes Bucky’s eyebrows raise.

“Love? As in…present tense?” He mumbles.

“Well, yeah, I still love you. I didn’t stop either.” She admits. “I missed you dearly, Bucky, and I’m glad you gave me an explanation for why you did it. But that does not negate everything that happened. And it definitely doesn’t mean that everything is immediately okay between us, or that I’ve completely forgiven you.” Bucky nods. Yet, he can feel his heart rate increasing. She still loves him, despite everything that happened. Maybe he has a chance to make things right again. “Can we maybe grab a drink next week? Just for a chat.”

“Absolutely. We can take things as slow as you want.” She manages to crack a small smile at that, and Bucky feels one of his own growing too.

It’ll take a while, but maybe things will turn out okay after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[gabegade]

Buggy with a partner thats the other side of the proverbial coin

-they look a bit strange together but as soon as they open their mouths you realize, theyre the same person in different flavors.

- Buggy is like a parrot, his partner is like a crow, theyre both smart, chaotic, and fond of shiny things.

- Buggy is a morning person, his partner sleeps past noon

- his partner speaks in a very blunt and efficient manner, or tries to. The truth is theyre incredibly awkward and terrible with words, zero charisma, so they default to speaking un a straightforward way since doing any theatrics never ends up how they intended. Theyre very jealous of Buggy's natural charisma and his way with words, they wish they could come up with witty comebacks, or even save a joke that didn't land like he does.

- Buggy shouts a lot and is genuinely scary when reprimanding his crew, but his actual words are pretty lenient. His partner is very calm and gentle sounding, they even sound encouraging, but their words are cutthroat, and they're not even trying to be mean, they just... expect better. The crew hates it when Buggy asks them to look over their acts.

- just like Buggy seems to attract attention especially when he doesnt want to, his partner fades into the background no matter where they are or what absurd thing they do, and they're perfectly happy with that, they're happy enough being part of the audience, hates having to do "plot relevant" work.

- dresses in blacks and grays exclusively, no particular style, likes dressing to match their surroundings, but always in dull and dark colors. Buggy is conflicted because he has no idea how to get them clothes at first, but then he realizes the outfits CAN be eye catching and over the top, they just have to be black and white! They end up looking like a mime when hanging out with his crew, which makes them disappear amongst the rest of the circus, so it works out.

- unlike Buggy, his partner is very confident in themself and their appearance. It kinda boosts his own self esteem as well, since if someone that comfortable in their own skin is into him, he must have something nice going on.

- regardless of gender, Buggy loves shoving his face on his partner's chest, he keeps a bandana specifically dedicated for putting in on said chest in order to protect his partner's clothes from his makeup, its kind of adorable, which is why he usually only does it when theyre alone

- theyre both bisexual, because I say so, and they check out hot people together, they play smash or pass with wanted posters and other people that appear on the journal. They have very different tastes and every time they both wonder how they even got together.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

and i can wish all that i want but it won't bring us together (n.p.t.)

note: this is my Christmas present to @cottagecori who listens to everything i have to say

summary: How it began.

the waiting room series

warnings: quote unquote affairs, swearing, alcohol, bisexual reader, non-linear storytelling, told from multiple perspectives, this may not be your cup of tea and that's okay!

word count: 3.9k

December 2021

Your hand shakes as you move to wipe away the tear that began to fall down your face. Sam’s hand finds yours, squeezing. 

“I’m sorry.” You hear your best friend whisper. “You didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry.” 

-

May 2021

Meeting Natasha had been like coming home after a long day, warm and safe. 

You’d only been back in San Diego for a week and a half when you’d run into her on your first day volunteering at the U.S.S. Midway. They’d been having an event for certain Navy personnel and needed extra hands, which is how you'd ended up meeting her. 

Even dressed in her formal blues and her hair pinned back in a tight bun, you’d been left more than a little flustered by her striking beauty, much to the amusement of the other volunteer you’d been working with. 

She’d been kind, chatting with you as there was a delay in the program, her nimble fingers brushing yours as she takes a booklet from you. 

You’ll blame the redness of your cheeks on the beaming sun atop the retired Naval aircraft carrier before you’d ever admit such a short interaction had left you feeling so much. 

But Sofia knows, as you will come to learn that she always does, and mentions that a bunch of the younger volunteers, kids of Navy officers, are headed to a local Navy bar for the evening. Invites you along with the promise of a good evening. 

And you know, in your soul, that you don’t typically enjoy nights out. Not in packed, crowded bars, certainly not surrounded by drunken military men. 

But this part of your life is supposed to be different and it will never be different if you don’t make decisions you normally wouldn’t. 

So with a twinkle in Sofia’s eye and a warm smile on her face, you link your arm with her and follow her off the looming ship on the shores of La Jolla. 

-

In hindsight, you should’ve known. Should’ve taken the twinkle in Sofia’s eye for mirth and laughter and trouble, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as Natasha’s mouth slots against yours. As one hand rests in your belt loops and the other soft yet firm against your cheek. 

The loud music in the bar seems to drown out in the corner you’re tucked away in, any and all thoughts fleeting as Natasha’s surprisingly soft lips press against yours again and again. She’s all you can focus on, the warmth spreading through your body as you think about how good it feels to be doing this again, to be doing this with her. 

-

Falling in love with Natasha is simple. 

It’s easy, like falling asleep. 

She’s as kind as she is strong-willed, a duality that shouldn’t exist together but does. 

You can see, even from easy conversation, how much she cares about this team that she’s stationed with, how much they’re family to her. 

She’s older than you, not by much, but enough to make you feel like she’s one of those real adults you always joke about with your friends. It’s something that should make you insecure, dating someone who had their life and shit together but never does. Natasha isn’t like that, would never make you feel small. 

Her friends might, a few of them making teasing comments about if you’re even of legal drinking age the first time she brings you back to the Hard Deck, but you know that you have always looked younger than you are. 

(You’d worked with middle schoolers in your freshman year of college and they all thought you were 14. You knew.)

But still, Natasha is there, warding them off with a witty comeback and a hand on your back, something that settles your nerves more than any amount of alcohol ever could. She didn’t have to do this, you knew, remembering the way your ex had let you sit there as you got torn apart by his friends. 

But Natasha isn’t him. She’s kind, and warm, and light. She listens to you on your good days and your bad days, makes you coffee on late nights as you slouch over books and an open Google Doc, and brings you groceries when she knows you’ll be too busy to remember to do it yourself. 

She makes sure you always feel seen and heard. She goes to the airport with you to pick up Sam and Fran when they move back to San Diego and joins you on game nights with your cohort and your friends from the Midway. She supports all your dreams, no matter how small they may seem to other people. She has your friends from college giggling over a margarita about how they’re impressed you finally managed to date someone who’s nice to you. She makes it a point to be at all your presentations and always read through the drafts of your thesis when it feels like your eyes might melt. 

In short, Natasha loves you. To her, it’s simple and honestly, how could you not love her in return? 

Natasha knows you and loves you. She loves you because she knows you.

Which is why it feels like a dagger cut so deep when Natasha admits to you that she knew. 

-

November 2017

His fingers tremble with rage as he sets the paper down, barely breathing as he struggles to meet his partner’s eye. 

“How long?” He whispers. 

“Tom-” 

“How. long.” He grits out. 

Pete sighs. “Since August.” 

“Three months.” He whispers. “Three months and you hid this from me the whole time?” 

“You were sick Tom, I needed you to get better. You never would if you had known. And- And I hardly know anything as it is-” 

“You know enough.” He spits out, eyes unable to look at just one piece of information on the papers scattered out in front of him. “And this girl? What do you plan to do?”

Pete sighs again. “She’s my daughter, Tom. I have to know her. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.” He whispers, a fact that is making bile rise in his still-healing throat. 

“No.” He says with a quick shake of his head. “No. If you want to stay married to me, she stays out of our life.” 

-

July 2021

“Okay, thoughts?” You say, stepping out into the living room. 

“You look pretty!” Fran exclaims as Sam nods his head in agreement. 

You weren’t sure what was appropriate attire to meet Natasha’s friends, other than Natasha telling you to wear whatever made you most comfortable. You’d been through six different outfits, each one being pulled off faster than the last. 

“But we’ve said that about all of them.” 

You heave a sigh, flattening out the skirt of the dress. “I know but-” 

“No buts. You look incredibly pretty and Nat is going to like you just as much as she did yesterday.” Sam says firmly. 

You sigh again, glancing ​​at him. “I wish you guys were coming with me.” You admit quietly before plopping down on the couch next to Fran. 

Fran leans over to straighten the straps of​​ the dress, as she offers you a knowing smile. “You’re gonna have a good time. Sam and I can entertain ourselves for an evening, you know.” 

“I did live here for a while, remember!” Sam shouts from the kitchen.

When had he gone into the kitchen?

You hum as a knock sounds at the door, signaling Natasha’s arrival. You push yourself off the couch to answer her, unable to swallow the smile that spreads when you realize she’s brought you flowers. 

“You didn’t have to.” You whisper, taking the bunches of sunflowers from her. 

“I wanted to.” She says, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you can go far. She shuts the door behind her, following you into the foyer and then the living room. Fran brightens as she sees Natasha. 

“Let me take these from you.” Fran offers, before extending her other hand to Natasha. “You must be Natasha. I’m Fran. Sam’s in the kitchen. Babe, do you have a vase?” 

“I don’t know.” He calls back. “Why would we need a- oh.” Sam gives you a grin as he appears. “Yeah, let me see if I can rustle something up. Why don’t you kids get out of here?” You roll your eyes, ignoring the flaming of your cheeks as Natasha takes your hand, bidding your friends farewell. 

Nat’s right hand finds your thigh, drawing circles into your skin with her thumb as she pulls out of your driveway. 

“So remind me how you know Sam and Fran?” 

“Sam and I had a mutual friend, his old co-worker and a friend of mine from college. We ended up really hitting it off and ended up dropping the friend that introduced us, as awful as that makes me sound. They’re just visiting for the weekend and I’m actually staying in his family’s place right now.” 

She hums. “That’s very kind of him.” 

You huff out a little laugh. “You’re telling me.” 

-

The Hard Deck is less noisy this time around, although your eyes still struggle to adjust to the dim light of the bar as you push your sunglasses up to the top of your head. 

Natasha guides you past the bar, promising to return later as she directs you to the pool table in the back. Her hands are firm against your shoulder blades as you walk. 

“Boys.” She calls, earning the attention of the men crowded around the pool table. They all turn, catching sight of you and you have to fight not to curl into Natasha. “This is my girlfriend.” 

The tall one, the blond, grins, being a little too sharp around the edges for your liking. “Are you sure she should even be in here Phoenix?” 

Her thumbs press into your shoulders as if to say breathe, relax, i got this. 

“Pretty sure you’re the one that likes them below the legal drinking age Bagman.” 

“Back off, Seresin.” A brunette says, pushing him out of the way. “I’m Bradley.” He says, extending his hand to you. You take it, giving him a soft smile. 

You’d heard about Rooster, Nat’s best friend. “Nice to meet you.” 

“This is Bob and Fanboy.” Nat says, pointing to your left. “Behind them is Payback and Coyote. The irritating blond is Bagman.”

“Hangman-” 

“The rest of the crew will be in shortly.” You wave to the boys, struggling to not make yourself feel small in their looming presence. “It looks like Mav is over at the bar, why don’t you come with me? I want to introduce the two of you.” 

You nod, intertwining your fingers with her as the two of you walk back towards the bar.

“Mav.” She calls, earning the attention of a shorter man.  A fond smile blooms on his weary face, turning from his conversation with the bartender. 

“Lieutenant Trace, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Mav, this is my girlfriend. This is Captain Pete Mtichell, my commanding officer.” 

Pete’s smile almost seems to fade at the sight of you, but he must think better of any immediate negative thoughts as he extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too.”

Mav lets your hand go, turning to the person sitting next to him, an older man with graying hair. “Tom, this is Phoenix’s girlfriend.” 

The man, Tom, frowns at Pete. “I can hear Pete.” 

Natasha lets out a little laugh. “This is Tom Kazansky, Captain Mitchell’s husband.” 

Tom tips his head in greeting. “Good to meet you.”

-

October 2020

He watches the careful rise and fall of his husband’s chest. 

Up. Down. 

Up. Down.

Up. Down. 

He can tell by the stillness of his body his husband is nearing sleep, even though the bruising from two different emergency ejections had left him favoring his left side and sleeping in an awkward position. 

He swallows at the reminder at the near loss of his husband. 

The seed that had been planted when the Darkstar crashed - which felt ages ago by now - had bloomed, its ivy wrapping tight around his lungs. 

It choked his lungs every time he breathed, thorns cutting deep, the thought that Pete might die and die resenting him for never being able to know his daughter. 

“Pete?” He whispers. 

His husband stirs, blearily looking at him in the dim light of the bedroom. 

The dim light of their bedroom in their nice house by the ocean. The dim light of their bedroom in their nice house by the ocean, where they had comfortably lived and loved and laughed, something she had never known. 

“Tom? What is it?” 

“I changed my mind.” 

He catches on to the shine of Pete’s wedding band, even as he tries to move, letting out a low hiss as he does. 

“Changed your mind? Changed your mind about what, baby?” 

“I’ve changed my mind. If- If you want to know her. If you want to find her again, I’d be okay with that, I think. I want you to be able to know your daughter.” 

-

April 2021

His brain is swimming with information, his heart clenching every time a portion of it gets processed. 

“So, you found her?” Ice says quietly. 

Mav hums in affirmation. “She’s graduating college this year. In a month.” 

“It’s crazy to me Pete, really it is. That you have a daughter out there.” His Mom says after a minute.

“And I could know her.” 

Pete’s trying to explain it to him, the private investigator, the affair, the daughter, and all he can feel is that ache in his chest where the scar of betrayal still sits, unhealed and raw. 

A daughter.

“You- you’re fucking with me, right Mav? A daughter?” 

Mav’s face falls in that way that it does, his shoulders deflating a bit before shaking his head. “No, B. This is real. I have a daughter and I’m trying to find her. I- I think we did.” 

Bradley has to bite his cheek to keep his initial words from leaving his mouth. “This is bullshit.” 

“B, I understand that this is all new, especially with the mission having not been that long ago-” 

“No, it’s bullshit Mav. You knew where I was for over a decade and you never once tried to find me or contact me. You’ve known about her for five minutes and suddenly you’re hiring a PI to try and find her?”

Mav lets out a little breath. “I’ve known since 2017.” 

Bradley chokes on his spit. “And what the fuck makes now such a great time?” 

“Well, for starters, she was a minor when I first found out about her existence. Her Mom never would have let me anywhere near her. Plus, Tom was not on board with the idea of having her in our lives-” 

“Oh, and he is now?” Mav opens his mouth to keep talking but he beats him to the punch. “I mean, we don’t even know that she wants you in her life, Mav! For fuck’s sake Mav, you’d probably screw her over before you ever got a chance to pretend to be her Dad, given your track record. You’ll be two for two fucking up your pseudo kids before they hit 30.” 

“Bradley.” His Mom says sternly, coming into his swimming vision. He presses the heels of his palms into his stinging eyes, wondering when he had started crying. “Bradley, baby, I think you’re a little sensitive to the situation, you’re not seeing it from Pete’s point of view-” 

“I don’t need to. I hope for that girl’s sake you stay away from her.”

-

December 2021

Nat plays with the strap of your nice dress as you both watch the blond pilot amble his way towards the two of you at Pete and Tom’s small holiday get-together. 

Your head rests on her collarbone as she appears before you, grinning like he has a secret. 

“I think I found out why Roo has been fighting with Pops.” 

Coyote and Fanboy overhear Jake, leaning in to hear him as they crowd around the armchair you and Natasha are sitting in. 

“Eavesdropping, are we Bagman?” Nat asks, fingertips moving from your strap to your shoulder to begin grazing your arm. You snort, leaning further into your girlfriend. 

“Maybe.” He says hurriedly before waving her off. “Apparently, dear old Maverick had some kind of illicit affair back in the day and has a daughter as a result.” 

Javy chokes on his drink as Mickey’s eyes widen. Natasha rolls her eyes. “You need to get your ears checked.” 

Jake shakes his head. “No, no, I’m serious. Mav has been trying to find her since last year after the mission happened. I guess he did and is trying to get in contact with her.” 

“So how is any of this Bradshaw’s problem?” Javy asks. 

Jake shrugs. “Not a clue. But, I mean-” 

Speaking of him, Bradley appears in your vision rather abruptly. 

“Why did your parents get a divorce?” 

You blink, beginning to feel confused at the sharp question from the boy in front of you. “Um, my mom cheated.” 

“So, you know then.” 

“Know what? Know that my Mom’s a piece of shit?” You let out a nervous laugh, starting to feel unsteady as you pull away from Natasha. “Yeah, I’ve known that.” 

“So then you know Mav is your biological father.” 

You blink again. “What- is this some kind of like- prank?” 

Bradley’s gaze hardens. “Why the hell would I joke about this?” 

“Rooster, man, what are you even talking about?” Coyote asks. 

“I mean, are you just like- pretending to like my friend so you can get closer to Mav?” 

“Bradshaw, whoa-” Natasha says, pushing herself off the chair. 

“No, Nat! She’s probably just using you to get closer to Mav and that’s so fucked up.” 

It feels like the room is spinning as the yelling catches Pete’s attention, bringing him across the living room as people have begun to watch what's unfolding. 

“Hey, cut it out, all of you. What is going on?” 

“Is it true?” 

You hear yourself ask the words, suddenly feeling too big for your own body. 

It takes Pete a moment to understand but when he does his face falls and it’s enough. 

It’s enough. 

“Oh my god.” You mumble. “Oh my god. I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

You push yourself off the chair, pushing at your sternum as if it will relieve the pressure there. 

Natasha grabs your arm. “Hey-” 

“Did you know?” 

The hesitance in her eyes answers your question but the whispered “I had my suspicions.” takes your breath clean from you. 

You don’t remember leaving the party. 

You do remember pressing at your sternum over and over, pressing harder with each ring on your phone that passed. 

You remember collapsing on to the curb of a sidewalk blocks from the party, the grief insurmountable. 

You remember begging Sam to come pick you up and choking on sobs as Fran whispered soothing words through the phone. 

You don’t remember much after that.

[gojoidyll]

Reiji Amamiya didn't like you.

You were loud, hyperactive, and always asked if things were a reference to an anime you watched or a manga you read.

Reiji Amamiya didn't like you.

You had a quick wit. Anytime anyone said something mean or sarcastic to you, you always had something to fire right back at them that left the other person floored on what to say in response. You were the type of person to make others, years later, finally come up with a witty remark and wish they could go back in time and deliver that comeback right at you.

Reiji Amamiya didn't like you.

You threw him off his game. It was like you could read him like an open book or see through him like the most clearest glass around.

Reiji Amamiya didn't like-

"You in there Amamiya? Earth to Amamiya! Hello~! Anyone home?"

His eyes focused on you, his lips pulling into a polite smile as he regarded you, "back from your mission already?"

You grinned and gave him a thumbs up, "obviously! Wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't done."

Reiji Amamiya was in love with you.

When he first met you, he thought he truly didn't like you and that it would be hard to form any sort of connection with you. And yet, you were one of the few people in this field who is still alive.

You helped him through a lot over the years and even recommended him to be promoted to the position he had now.

You always did look after him. And he wondered if you loved him too.

Though, you were enigmatic person. He highly doubted he would get a straight answer out of you if he asked.

But a man could dream, couldn't he?

So for now, Reiji Amamiya didn't like you. But only because he wasn't sure if you felt the same.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 20

Get the Party Started

I clearly remember how I felt when I got my acceptance letter from Foxbury. I knew that this would mark the true beginning of my life. I would get my dream career, everything was going according to plan.

Even though I had assumed, perhaps a bit arrogantly, that I would get in, I still did a little happy dance in front of the mailbox.

My parents were proud and happy for me, but I suspect they were also looking forward to finally spending some more time alone.

After all, they started dating when my brother was a baby and had never lived alone together.

My own love life was less happy. My girlfriend, Cecilia, who I had been dating for almost a year, told me we needed to talk. I knew what was coming.

She had also been accepted into her dream university, and wanted us to break up before we left.

I knew she was right. We were too young for long distance, and we would both be better off being free while meeting so many new people. Neither of us wanted a messy breakup later in case one of us found someone new.

I knew it was for the best, but it still hurt. Cecilia was my first long-term girlfriend, and I really did love her.

We hung out for a few hours, just enjoying each other’s company one last time. Neither of us wanted her to leave and make it final.

I’m not ashamed to admit that there were some tears when we said goodbye, but I still wished her all the best at her university.

Even harder was saying goodbye to Maggie. She was very old, much older than we ever expected a pitbull to get, and I knew she didn’t have much time left. My parents promised to spoil her completely.

Despite the pain of saying goodbye to everyone, I still felt great when I arrived at Foxbury. I knew that this was where I belonged, my destiny. I had dreamed of this for years.

I immediately started preparing for my first classes, I knew I wanted to be in the top as always.

I also walked around campus, familiarising myself with the new surroundings, especially the common area, Larry’s Lagoon, where the canteen was, as well as a gym, a robotics lab, and a study area.

The very first week, I met Jamie. She just walked over and started talking to me during lunch. At first I wasn’t sure what to make of her. Surely, no one could be that outgoing? The next day, she came over and asked to join me for my morning workout.

She was pretty fit, and it was nice with some company. She could even give me some tips.

I managed a new personal record with her guidance.

At first, I was a little worried that maybe she was interested in me, but it was quickly apparent that she wasn’t into guys at all. We even ended up discussing ex-girlfriends, and I told her all about Cecilia.

Cecilia and I knew each other from school, and had been flirting for a while before meeting up at a coffee shop near the park. I was surprised when she kissed me as a greeting. She then insisted we found a more private place.

We sat in a nearby picnic area. I was a bit shy, and a little startled by her taking the initiative like that, so I nervously messed around on my phone, but Cecilia wasn’t having it.

She demanded my attention. It was honestly refreshing. The few girls I had briefly dated before her were the quiet types, and since I also tend to be quiet until I get to know people, the dates had been pretty lame.

But Cecilia challenged me. She didn’t take no for an answer and she was smart and witty.

Flirting with her was like fencing, both of us taking turns attacking and parrying, throwing smart-ass comebacks at each other.

I don’t believe in soulmates, but if I did, I might have said that she was mine. We matched so well.

When we got tired of bantering, she simply pulled me in for a kiss. No mind games, no insisting that I take the initiative just because I’m the guy.

It was one of the things I loved about her. The simplicity. Everything was so easy with her.

Well, it also didn’t hurt that she was a great kisser.

Talking about Cecilia made me a little sad, but Jamie managed to cheer me up with a few anecdotes of terrible dates she had been on, and just like that, we were friends.

beginning / previous / next

[espinosaurusrexex]

Ari finally asks you to be his girlfriend

a/n: Fun fact - I've had this in my drafts for years (no I mean literally), and I never knew what to do with it. I obviously changed it up a bit because it was written for someone else and really badly as well, but still...

word count: ~700

warning: mutual pining, a liiiiitle suggestive, swearing

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

“I think we need nicknames for each other.” Ari leaned back to be able to look at your face. You were currently cuddled up on the sofa, watching a romantic comedy as a candle flickered in the dark. It was quite romantic, but the only reason you sat that close together was, so that you could share the huge bowl of popcorn squeezed between you.

“Okay…” you answered, concentrating on the movie and half-heartedly listening to what your friend had to say.

“How about boyfriend and girlfriend?” He smirked widely, waiting for a response from you. But you were struggling to keep your expression unbothered by your friend's cheesy pick-up line.

“Only if I can be ‘boyfriend’.” Shrugging your shoulders, you observed as Ari’s grin grew into honest laughter. An all too familiar warmth filled your body at the sound of it as you watched him shove another hand of popcorn in his mouth, settling the argument with a huff.

Things like this were a daily occurrence. Ari flirting like a maniac and you shooting back witty comebacks at him. It seemed like it was all fun and games, but that was, because neither of you knew that you were hiding the same secret from each other. Sometimes, you had to turn away from him to cover the flustered expression on your face. Too embarrassed to admit to him that you, in fact, wanted him to mean the comments he shot constantly, you went on with your life, annoying all your friends with your obliviousness.

"You can be anything you like, baby. But I'd prefer to be yours." Your expression faltered at this. It's not like you weren't used to those kinds of comments, it was rather that this time it felt a lot more real than the others.

"I- what?"

"Cat got your tongue? I wish it were me instead..."

"Ari..." your voice was only a whisper by now. His face was suddenly a lot closer than it was thirty seconds ago, and you didn't know how to act anymore. Ari's perfume was intoxicating, his lips so plump that you wanted to bite into them.

"What's holding you up, sugar?" Oh, shit. Did you just say that out loud?

Well, apparently. But you weren't too mad about it, because it finally gave you a leeway to make a move - an actual one, that was.

He leaned further into you and the world began to freeze around you. It had never been like this before. Ari's hand touched the skin on your arm, and before you could register the goosebumps, you leaned into him, placing a hungry kiss on his lips. Hot and heavy breaths filling the room and layering over the movie in the background as the popcorn spilled on the ground. His hand wandered down your front, leaving a burning sensation in its trail until-

"What's up with you, today?" Ari's voice pulled you from your trance and back to the sofa, where the movie had skipped a bit forward. His face was nowhere near to the place you had thought it to be mere seconds ago, as was his hand. And the popcorn was still neatly tugged in your lap. "I asked you something?"

Your head shot up. "Uh... sorry, what?"

"What do you wanna drink?"

"Just water, please."

"Alrighty..." He threw you a bottle from the fridge.

When Ari left your apartment that evening, you spent another hour imagining him actually calling you his girlfriend. The little scene on the sofa had felt so real, it almost scared you. Apparently, the feelings you harbored for your best friend were a lot stronger than they had made out to be, and it suddenly felt like a genuine problem.

You settled in bed with a torn mind that night - Ari's sweater keeping you warm, surrounding you in his scent, and lulling you into another dream of him. As if you hadn't had enough of those today already...

Wanna be added to the taglist?

@circe143 @4buckyb @valkyrie418

[elliespuns]

Hiii!!! It’s anon from the winter dance about the pupils dilating. Another thing I’ve noticed, Ellie & Dina both have ear piercings! You can see the dot where the needle went though. I tried looking at baby Ellie’s model but either she doesn’t have them or her hair is in the way. But I like to think maybe Ellie got her ears pierced with Dina to impress her maybe?!👀- 🕸️ (im gonna claim 🕸️ as my emoji if u dont mind)

I went through every one of my goddamn photos of Ellie, and I only found two pics where I could see a 'hint' of what appeared to be some kind of dot. Has anyone else ever noticed this? I'm freaking out right now because if it's a real thing, it's so fucking sweet, like I can't unsee it now.

[Ellie 16yo, Dina 17yo]

"C'mon, don't be a chicken shit. You won't feel anything." Dina says, dragging her friend over to her bed and making her sit on the edge of the mattress.

Ellie scoffs. "I'm not scared. It's just... I don't know. Stupid." She crosses her arms over her chest and exhales deeply. "Like I'm ever going to wear fucking earrings."

Dina rolls her eyes funnily, and the corner of her mouth twitches at the younger girl's remark. "Now watch your language. You're about to become a lady in a few seconds."

"Pfff, right." Ellie snorts, fishing for a witty comeback in her mind, as nervous as she is in Dina's presence. "You wish. Just say you want to see me in a skirt."

"Stop putting ideas in my head and sit still."