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rambleonwaywardson · 2 months

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Clegan Olympics AU - Opening Ceremonies

Masterpost

Author's Note: Some Olympics fluff to start your week. We're going back in time to the start of the AU for a nice opening ceremonies scene. See end notes if you want my thoughts on the real men's gymnastics team.

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“We really shouldn’t be here,” Croz laughs as they crowd against the railing of the boat, athletes pressed together on all sides. Hands on the metal railing, he pushes himself forward and back in anticipation with an excited grin as they prepare to start their journey down the Seine.

“No we should not,” Curt agrees as he looks up and down the boat at all the other athletes on board.

Curt stands in between Croz and Bucky. On Bucky’s other side is Gale, and then Benny and Marge. They managed to snag a great spot on the lower deck near the front of the boat, and the male gymnasts have been living up to their “face of the games” role by helping to hype up the other athletes while they wait to go.

Men’s gymnastics qualification starts tomorrow morning, and they definitely should be resting up, not standing on a boat in the pouring rain, cheering and dancing and taking selfies with hundreds of other team USA athletes. Alex and Brady, perhaps the only smart ones on the team, decided to follow that guidance. They had podium training yesterday, a chance to practice on the Paris apparatuses that they’ll be competing on, and everything is starting to feel a lot more real. The pressure is on.

But seriously, how were they supposed to just miss this historic opening ceremony? For the three American gymnasts, this is their second Olympics, but their first with an actual audience and the ability to be around so many people at once, unlike the tense and lonely atmosphere of Tokyo in 2021. Not to mention, it’s the first opening ceremony ever to not be taking place in a stadium.

Repeat: they’re on a boat, on the Seine, about to sail past Paris landmarks towards the Eiffel Tower. They’d be damned if they didn’t go.

The team USA boat is absolutely packed, front to back and top to bottom. Bucky and Gale somehow gravitated towards one another like they were inventing a new law of nature, so now the male gymnasts and the young equestrians make for an unlikely pairing of new friends among the crowd of American athletes. It’s pouring down rain in Paris, but that isn’t bringing the mood down. If anything, it’s psyching the USA boat up even more as they cheer into the downpour and quite literally soak it all in.

Curt leans over the rail to look at the equestrians on Bucky’s other side. “Gale, Benny, you start tomorrow, too, yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Benny nods, looking off into the distance with an air that says oh the fuck well. They were, in fact, told not to come to the opening ceremonies, considering Benny’s dressage ride is at 9:30am tomorrow morning, with Gale’s scheduled for 11am.

“Harding’s gonna kill us,” Gale agrees. He glances over to the gymnasts. “He’s our chef d’équipe.”

Croz furrows his brow. “Pardon?”

“He basically runs the entire US eventing team,” Benny explains. “Coach and manager in one.”

“And he’s gonna kill them,” Marge repeats. She’s the only one out of their group of six who should actually be here, since she’s the only one not starting competition in less than 24 hours.

“Oh he won’t be complaining when we win him some fucking medals!” Benny exclaims loudly. Gale rolls his eyes as the three gymnasts enthusiastically cheer in response, garnering a shouted agreement from the other athletes around them.

Bucky wraps an arm around Gale, a hand on his waist. “Well I’d hate for you to miss this, the opening ceremonies of your first Olympics,” he says. “And I’d hate to miss seeing you in this.” He glances up and down at Gale’s outfit, which is the same as every other person’s outfit on this whole boat. Navy blue Ralph Lauren blazer with a pinstripe shirt and washed out blue jeans, the USA opening ceremonies uniform. They’ve also all been given small American flags to wave. Gale has his demurely tucked into the front pocket of his blazer, while Curt and Croz have been sword fighting each other with theirs.

“What? Seeing us in this fit isn’t good enough for you?” Curt asks, pulling forward the lapels of his blazer as he turns to look, offended, at Bucky.

“Sorry, man,” Bucky laughs. He tightens his grip on Gale. “I like this view a little more than your ugly mug.” Then he presses his lips to Gale’s cheek.

“You two gonna be like this the whole boat ride?” Benny asks, nodding to Bucky and Gale. “Cause I might just…” he starts shifting away from Gale, but Marge pushes him back into place.

“What did I do?” Gale mumbles. He’s just standing here getting manhandled by the American equivalent of a Greek God or some shit. Unless you count the way he lets himself practically sink into Bucky’s embrace, tucking himself in close.

“You’re too fuckin’ pretty for your own good,” Benny tells him. “Now we gotta deal with these assholes.” With his flag, he motions to the gymnasts, who practically climb on top of each other in mock outrage, muttering curses as they pretend to go after Benny.

Gale gives them all a look that says to calm down, and they actually listen. Marge can’t help but laugh at how her best friend already holds so much influence over these boys. Bucky lets go of Gale’s waist to reach across and give Benny a consoling pat on the shoulder. Curt sticks his tongue out at the equestrians, smirking as he puts up a peace sign. “Welcome to the shit show. We’re happy to have you.”

On Gale’s other side, Benny wraps an arm around his shoulders and points at him. “Just wait til you see this man in his Olympic dressage get-up.” With his free hand he joins his thumb and forefinger together in an OK sign and winks at Bucky, who smirks at Gale. Gale tries not to squirm uncomfortably and looks down at the water below to hide his blush.

“Guys we’re moving! We’re moving!” Marge squeals, tapping the railing with her hands as the boat finally pulls into the middle of the water and starts to move down the river. All of the athletes on board cheer as they start their trek through Paris, heading into the night.

As the next nation to host the summer Games, they’re the second to last boat in the over 80 boat flotilla. It’s dark now, and most of the performances along the river have long since ended, but the bridges and sculptures and buildings around them are lit up bright as can be. Even the fountains spitting water into the air in intricate patterns are backlit with vibrant colors.

As they set off, the news correspondent that’s been making rounds around the boat seeks them out, a cameraman in tow. The media wasn’t expecting the gymnasts to be out here tonight, so she’s excited to talk to them. John Egan is, after all, one of the big faces of the American presence here. Commercials, billboards, magazine covers – you name it, he’s on it. Sure enough, she starts out by talking to Bucky and Curt, then Croz. She asks them about being the USA’s first hope in several Olympiads for a men’s gymnastics medal, and she of course asks Bucky about what it’s taken to get back to the world stage after a should’ve-been career ending injury. He handles it with grace, even though he’s getting sick and tired of the whole “comeback” cash grab the media likes to label him with. He’ll give the people what they want, though, because he won’t ever again take this sport, his health, or the opportunity to represent his country for granted.

Eventually, though, the way John so clearly has his arm slung around someone else’s shoulder and isn’t letting go forces the cameraman to zoom out and include the equestrian athletes in the shot. Benny and Marge wave and grin at the camera as Gale gives a small, shy smile that has people across the country falling in love with him on the spot (well, that, and the fact that he’s got the balance between adorable and hot as hell in the bag).

“This is an athlete combination we haven’t seen before,” the reporter says. “The U.S. gymnasts and equestrians.” She motions to Bucky’s arm over Gale’s shoulder. “You’re both from the DC area. Do you know each other well?“

Bucky nods, smiling at Gale instead of at the camera. “Yeah. Yeah, we know each other.”

Curt scoffs beside him and has to cover his mouth in a fake cough to hide it.

The reporter asks Gale about how it feels to be at his first Olympics, to be riding down the Seine towards the Eiffel Tower surrounded by other members of Team USA. “Unreal,” he says. “It’s a huge honor to be out here and we’re excited to kick off eventing first thing tomorrow.”

Then she talks to all three of them about being labeled as the new face of US equestrian. The equestrian team has been doing a sort of marketing revamp leading up to the Olympics in an effort to draw in an even bigger audience, especially with the younger crowd. People are more excited for eventing than ever before, and it’s in major part due to these three. They even appeared on an Olympics commercial together, decked out in red, white, and blue riding gear as they cantered down a center line or soared over massive jumps.

Benny does most of the talking, Marge chiming in here and there, while Gale says a few charming words but mostly tries not to look like too much of an embarrassment on national TV. Bucky’s arm is still around him, and he focuses on that feeling instead.

As if sensing his discomfort, Bucky leans in close to the camera, pulling Gale in on one side and Curt on the other. The camera pans out to get all six of them in the shot. “US gymnastics and US equestrian are going to dominate this Olympics,” Bucky declares. “Just you watch!”

Once the reporter has moved on, they all break down into laughter. “Yeah, you two know each other a little too well,” Curt teases, shoving his shoulder against Bucky’s. He knows what Bucky and Gale have been up to when he isn’t in the shared bedroom.

“Fuck off,” Bucky laughs.

Curt shrugs. “Hey man, I’m happy for you.”

Bucky flips him off and Gale rubs a hand over his face in embarrassment. He tries to turn to talk to Benny and Marge instead, but they’re laughing at him, too, and he shoves them playfully, scowling. “Quit thinkin’ about my sex life and enjoy the ceremony.”

The rain starts coming down even harder, soaking the athletes on board. Water below and water above; they’ve seen a lot of water tonight, they all keep joking. Some have put on the ponchos that were distributed before they set off, but others, the gymnasts and equestrians included, opt not to. There’s something about the feeling of the rain coming down. It makes it feel special in a way, even more of a moment than it already is. Plus, it’s not like they paid for these probably unnecessarily expensive outfits.

Curt somehow acquires a pair of those ugly Olympic rings glasses and keeps purposely knocking Bucky in the face with them. He goes so far as to take Bucky’s little American flag so he can add to his own, sticking one on each side of his glasses.

After a futile battle to get his flag back, Bucky turns back to Gale and stops short. Gale is looking down the side of the boat, watching the crowd of American athletes standing along it, the sights of Paris in the background. His lips are parted, his eyes wide as he takes it in. Rain drips down his face, clings to his eyelashes, turns his cheeks pink, and Bucky can’t help but stare.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Bucky says. Absolutely no other opening ceremony can compare to this, but Bucky also sometimes forgets that this is Gale’s first Games at all. He remembers his own sense of wonder in Tokyo, even with things as isolated as they were.

Gale turns to look at him, that wide-eyed, awe-filled expression shifting to Bucky in a way that makes Bucky’s heart flutter. He blinks, though, and the expression goes away, just a snapshot memory for Bucky to tuck away for safekeeping.

He grabs Gale by the waist with both hands and turns him so they’re fully facing each other. Then he takes the flag sticking out of Gale’s front pocket and uses it to tap him on the nose.

“Not gonna wave the flag for your country?”

Gale rolls his eyes and plucks the flag from between Bucky’s fingers, giving it a little halfhearted wave. “Happy?”

“You’re at the Olympics, doll. Show some enthusiasm!” Bucky wraps his hand around Gale’s and guides it over the railing, so the flag waves in the breeze over the side. Then he puts his other hand on Gale’s hip and leans in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, wet from the rain. Their noses bump, and Gale smiles into the kiss. A real smile conveying actual joy rather than the little half thing he’s known for, and he’s still smiling when they pull away and he finds himself absolutely lost in Bucky’s eyes. The only thing keeping the flag from tumbling over the side of the boat is Bucky’s hand tightly gripping his.

“I think we may be watching the start of a love story,” Marge says to Benny.

“Oh you didn’t see the real start,” Benny replies, shaking his head. “When Gale got off the plane and came to me in a panic ‘cause he somehow just forgot to get John Egan’s phone number after spending an entire plane ride with him.”

“Hopeless,” Marge agrees lightheartedly. She’s worried about Gale, though. She’s never seen him fall for someone so hard so fast. She’s never seen him fall for anyone, really. She and Benny know that, as much as he puts up a tough front, he’s a sensitive guy deep down who just shoves things away so he doesn’t have to feel them. She’s proud of him, on one hand, for opening up to someone new. But she doesn’t know much about John Egan other than the way he’s been shown in the media. She doesn’t think he’s a bad guy, but he’s a little bit of a wildcard, and she can’t stand the idea of someone toying with Gale’s heart.

“He’ll be alright,” Benny whispers to her. He knows exactly what she’s thinking, but he also thinks that Gale deserves this. Maybe he’ll get hurt, but maybe he won’t. For now, this is the happiest Benny’s ever seen him, so who is he to step in the middle of it?

If Gale and John can hear them over the way they’re staring at each other, lost in their own world, they don’t say a thing. Instead, Bucky smiles brightly, strokes back a strand of Gale’s hair that came out of place due to the rain, and then he turns back to the rail. Slowly, Bucky’s hand slips away from Gale’s, leaving Gale to wave the little flag on his own. Curt shoves against Bucky again and pats him on the back, and Bucky forcefully reclaims his own flag. The US athletes pump their fists and cheer, hundreds of little American flags waving in the air, as they pass beneath a bridge full of spectators, hyping them up as the parade of nations approaches its end.

“USA USA USA!” Bucky chants, and pretty soon their entire half of the boat is joining in, even Gale.

Even as it’s getting dark, an audience is crowded along the Seine in every possible place. On the sides, on the bridges above, on balconies and rooftops of buildings, and they all wave and cheer as the USA boat passes.

Marge jumps up and down excitedly and points out every landmark they pass. The Notre Dame, Le Louvre, La Concorde. She and Gale joke with each other in French, Benny, in between them, annoyed as ever that they can talk over him in a language that he never bothered to learn. Marge ruffles his hair when he complains and tells him, in French, to stop pouting.

Despite the crowd on the side of the boat, Curt somehow convinces someone to take a picture of all six of them together. Leaning back against the rail, they press in close and smile for the camera just as they’re passing the Louvre. After that, they trade phones, taking pictures of each other as they sail through Paris. Other than selfies, the first photograph to ever be taken of Gale Cleven and John Egan together is a crooked portrait, taken by Benny, as they stand on the boat in front of La Concorde, a red- and blue-lit fountain rising up behind them. It’s blurry from the pouring rain, and they’re both drenched – Bucky’s curls plastered to his forehead and Gale’s hair gel just starting to give up – but Gale is grinning and laughing, a real laugh that makes his nose scrunch as he throws his head back, his flag waving over the rail. Bucky’s arm is around him, hand on his waist, and he stares at Gale like a man in love.

Bucky will choose a less suggestive photo of them together to post on Instagram, one where he has his arm over Gale’s shoulders instead, where he’s grinning widely at the camera and Gale has the corner of his mouth quirked up in a barely there smile, where they’re both holding their flags innocently up in front of them with the Eiffel Tower far in the distance, where Curt is photobombing from behind. That’s the one that the world will see at the end of the night, tucked inconspicuously into a selection of photos including Bucky and Curt, the three gymnasts, and the six of them together.

But the picture of Gale laughing, John clearly about to kiss him silly, the rain coming down in torrents – that’s the one that they’ll keep going back to. That’s the one that they’ll hold onto, look at when they need to smile, the one that they’ll use to remember this night. That picture the world will only see years from now, when John finally posts it on Instagram to reminisce about that fateful Olympics where he met the love of his life.

But they’re not thinking about any of that right now. Even if they can both feel something ineffable taking root between them, they don’t have the slightest idea where it’s going to go.

“It’s not fair that your hair still looks so good!” Bucky complains. He reaches a hand out to try to mess up Gale’s hair, but Gale ducks away.

Just a few strands have broken the hair gel’s hold, but for the most part Gale’s hair is maintaining a nice coiff against the heavy rain coming down. Bucky, on the other hand, is starting to look more and more like a wet dog, his hair flattened but a little frizzy at the same time, drops of water dripping off dark curls. Gale couldn’t love it more.

“It’s called product,” he informs Bucky.

“I used product,” Bucky insists.

Gale shrugs and turns so he can lean back against the railing, twisting the flag stick between his fingers as he smirks at the gymnast. “Don’t know what to tell you, then.”

Bucky cocks his head and steps in front of Gale, so he’s standing over him, his slight height advantage suddenly very apparent. Gale looks up at him through long eyelashes, water droplets clinging to them like crystals. Bucky rubs a thumb over Gale’s cheek and is about to come up with some clever retort when Curt makes a gagging noise beside them.

“Ugh, stop being so obsessed with each other,” he groans. “Disgusting.”

Before any of them can say another word, Marge exclaims “Oh there it is!” She grabs Gale by the shoulder, shaking him out of his head-in-the-clouds moment, as she leans over the rail and points excitedly towards the front of the boat.

“Well, would you look at that.” Croz’s jaw drops, and all of them turn to look at the Eiffel Tower rising high in front of them as they come around the final bend of the parade route. Sparkling in the darkness like thousands of twinkling stars, the tower is impossible to look away from. The Olympic rings are displayed across the front, lit up in bright white, and it caps off the feeling of pure magic that has encompassed the entire night.

This is real. This is happening. They’re here.

“We’re at the Paris fucking Olympics,” Benny muses. He puts one hand on Gale’s shoulder and the other on Marge’s. Bucky is pressed against Gale’s other side, and Curt wraps his arms over Bucky and Croz’s shoulders. A line of six athletes newly tied together: three second-time Olympic gymnasts looking to make history, and three first-time Olympic equestrians ready to show the world what US equestrian can be. Drawing it all together is a love story, taking shape under the flickering lights of the city of love.

They’re just six athletes among hundreds on a crowded boat on the Seine, the “USA” chant ringing out on all sides. The 2024 Games are about to begin, and each one of them will rise to the occasion, look victory in the eye, and claim it for themselves. But even with everything to come, this very moment will stick in their minds for the rest of their lives.

Bucky tilts his head to rest against Gale’s as they watch the Eiffel Tower go by. Somewhere, someone snaps a picture of them that will get people talking in the coming days. But for now, they just take in the moment.

“You ready for this?” Bucky asks.

“Mhm.” Gale nods against him. “Yes.”

He’s ready for it all.

---

Olympics notes:

Paul Juda on the men's gymnastics team reminds me a lot of how I picture Croz in this AU, hyping everyone up, happy to be there. Paul has my heart. A lot of people were surprised to see him selected to the team, but I was really hoping he would be all year and he’s shown up in a big way so far.

Other than Brody's unfortunate falls on high bar, team USA looked great in qualifying. Hoping they keep it up for team finals. Super excited for Fred Richard and Paul Juda who will represent USA in individual All-Around, and for Stephen Nedoroscik who qualified for individual pommel horse finals. I love this whole team tbh.

Again, devastated for Brody, who is usually super consistent and just amazing, especially on high bar. But after a long road to get here, it's truly incredible that he made it to the Olympics, and he has such an amazing (outward) attitude towards it. Looking forward to seeing him in the team finals tomorrow.

I know I never talk about women's gymnastics in this AU but holy shit are these US women phenomenal. Every single one of them ❤️❤️

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ladykailitha · 9 months

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Buckle up, there is a topic I want to rant about today. A few days ago this came across my dash and it reminded me of someone I knew from high school.

There was this kid at my high school everyone thought was a douche. He was good looking, popular, could sing, dance and play an instrument (I think it was guitar, but I don't remember it's been 20 years). He was getting lead roles in the plays as a sophomore (we didn't have freshman in our high schools out here in hick Utah where the running joke has always been we're behind the times by at 20-40 years), he got duck classes because he was getting acting jobs while in school.

We'll call him MH because those were his initials.

He was in my biology class and our science teacher had four groups of four debate creationism vs evolution (you shouldn't debate established fact but whatever). Two groups would be for creation and the other two would be for evolution.

I picked creation because I was a contrary child and wanted to debate the opposite of my actual views. (I was like thatTM) He picked evolution.

We got up and gave our arguments. Now our teacher wasn't a stupid man, stupid assignment aside. He knew his classes. He knew teenagers. He gave them two voting slips. One for who liked the best. Popularity wise. And the other for who gave the best arguments.

Now for some added context, this is Utah. Mormonville. Creation is basically hardwired into our psyche from birth. The chances of EVOLUTION winning was as likely as a pig sprouting wings.

But I was not well liked in high school, I was an epileptic, ADHD, anxiety riddled nerd. So MH's team got the votes for both the best argument and the most popular, because fuck me that's why. (And yeah, this sounds like my anxiety talking, but no these little shits told me that to my face.)

I can't remember how long exactly it was. Long enough that I got over it, but fresh enough I knew what he was talking about. But shortly after this shit show we have a fire drill. It was cold, it was miserable and I was ready to start cussing for the warmth.

MH comes up to me and the two friends I was with and tells me "Hey, I think it was crap that you lost. Your team had the better argument and was better articulated. I just wanted to let you know." And then melted back into the crowd of students.

I didn't think he knew what my name was, if I'm honest. But he came up to me and told me that I should have won. Even my friends were shocked. Now of course I was bitter about losing, because how could I not be? But the fact that the hottest guy in school came up to me and said that? I felt vindicated.

From that day on though? I was a staunch MH supporter. I was tell people that he was probably shy and very busy (you know with the whole acting jobs thing).

TL;DR: high school douche goes out of his way to tell me that I should won the on merit side of a stupid debate and I find out not a douche after all.

So why do I bring this up? Because of Steve Harrington. He has literally everyone saying he was an ass in high school. That he has to atone. But other than some instances where it was absolutely warranted we never really see Steve be a douche. Just typical teenager shit. And every time he does something "bad" he apologizes for it.

But all his friends are still giving him shit about it three years later. But not Jonathan who was an actual fucking criminal. Like he didn't have develop the sex pictures if he was looking for evidence of the thing that took his brother. I've developed film. The negative, while small gives you a pretty good indication of what would develop.

And yeah Nancy forgave him, but no one asked Steve if he forgave him. Because he was in those pictures, too. Steve was just as violated as Nancy was. And if the scene we see is any indication, Steve was probably more predominately featured than Nancy was, because he was on top. Meaning he would have covered her most of the time.

So no, I don't think Steve was a bully. No, I don't think he has anything to atone for that he hasn't already atoned for in fucking spades. I think he was always that same lovable dork he always was and Nancy had nothing to do with his "hero arc". But I have my own thoughts about Nancy that are way too long for this already massive dash stretcher.

/rant end

#my writing #stranger things #steve harrington #ladykailitha rants

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codename-adler · 10 months

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My AFTG take is that I'm actually baffled by how little people see the Riko/Kevin dynamic as having a sexual undertone. Like they were romantically involved in previous drafts of the story and for me it shows? And I don't even mean as they necessarily being exes or even an unrequited love situation, I just think Riko comes off as someone who feels entitled to ALL of Kevin. They are sooooo toxic codependent teen girl friendship to me.

(prefacing this by, again, admitting to not reading the EC. it's starting to feel a lil shameful in here... but i'm stubborn like my mama (she's actually not, that's just what the father says) so i'm still putting that off for as long as i can)

you is absolutely right. it's not a coincidence AFTG's antagonist is a man who has no concept of boundaries whatsoever, and that the main characters, and main couple, are people who have been severely hurt and traumatized by others disregarding their boundaries. it's the whole goddamn shtick of the story.

Riko knows no limits. i don't even believe he knows he can, and should, have his own. "no," "stop," "too much," "wrong," and "boundaries" are simply not part of his vocabulary, and i mean that. these words mean nothing, represent nothing; they're completely foreign, because he hasn't been taught, hasn't been shown, what their meaning is. nobody ever told him no, but nobody ever heard his no either. nobody ever told him to stop, but nobody ever stopped when he told them either. so when you give him a team, when you give him a toy, a pet, a companion, it's only natural he does unto them what he's only ever known. and i'm not saying that to take away his responsibility, to pity him. i'm trying to articulate how genuinely he believes he has access to another person. Riko is terrifying because he truly knows no limits. he cannot be taught. he cannot be changed, persuaded, helped. not in the short time the story unfolds. everything is happening so fast, Riko is so unrelenting, the threats are coming from everywhere and taking Riko in, helping him and undoing his toxic psyche is just not a viable option.

and so with Kevin... Kevin being the only remnant of normalcy and good Riko has been allowed to keep from his childhood? but Kevin refusing to be the way Riko is? it's an exposed, raw nerve begging to be pulled. does Riko keep digging deeper into his monstrous self in the hopes to corrupt Kevin? or is to force Kevin to watch and hope, despite all, that he'll still stand by his side and love him? Kevin does not know how deep his claws are buried into Riko. he doesn't even know he has claws, and much less powerful enough to grip the entity that is Riko. but Riko knows. imagine being a limitless man whose one thing holding him back isn't even aware it's doing so. imagine having the one thing you could consider your other half not giving his all like you do in everything. you go mad. and you don't care. you go all the way, because it's the only way you know how to do anything.

the lines from psychological violence and manipulation to physical violence to sexual violence are only lines to us. to Riko it's all a blur of the same thing. to Riko it's not even violence, it's the natural way things go. they're not "new" methods of torture; if one goes, anything goes, it's only a matter of what is available to him in the moment. everything is dark, everything is toxic, everything is pain.

"Riko comes off as someone who feels entitled to ALL of Kevin."

yes. that's exactly it. you cannot reason with him why certain things he is not allowed to have when Kevin has given him other parts of himself. why couldn't he touch Kevin like this when Kevin has given him his game? why couldn't he be allowed to have Kevin like this when they share a locker room and public showers? why could Thea kiss him just so and make him moan like that and not him? Riko does not know the difference. does not understand the intricacies, does not see the nuances. his world is divided in this is mine and this isn't mine yet.

and Kevin. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. a childhood with Riko and a passion for the game is not enough to justify the tension he's got with Riko. but that's the Nest for you. it's not called a cult for nothing. the tension tumbling into sex or sexual is inevitable. Riko managed to break Kevin's mind, break his game, his body. all that Kevin can get back with the Foxes. but a broken heart? a broken intimacy? only Riko has that powerful hold on Kevin. only him could potentially heal Kevin. but the thing is, he doesn't see those things as broken. they're simply done, and his.

Andrew's promise to Kevin wasn't to physically take on the Moriyamas. it was to push Riko out of his head when things got hard. Riko is so deeply embedded into Kevin's being, his veins, his stomach, his back, his tighs, his hands, his eyes, his neck, his chest. Riko is so much part of Kevin that Kevin himself starts to fade, and when his feet take him back towards Evermore, it's not because Riko's voice convinced him to, it's because Riko is in Kevin, and Riko belongs in the Nest. that is what Andrew has to protect Kevin against. that is the job he's been dealt: untangle Riko from Kevin.

#this dark stream of consciousness has been brought to you by effexor withdrawal and garlic sauce #i just really elongated anon's perfectly worded take #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #kevin day #riko moriyama #aftg ask

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casuallyawkardd · 1 year

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Hello dear, how are you? 😘 I wanted to know if it's ok, do you write an imagine where reader calls Miguel for the "first" time from the nicknames that spiders sometimes call him, but NEVER in front of him like "Guelito" "Miggy" or my favorite " Miguelito". thank you and I loved the second part "Close Encounters of the Spiderkind" I'm looking forward to seeing the next chapters

'Miguelito' is also my personal fav 😌 I should start work on pt 3 of 'Close Encounters of the Spiderkind' very soon so thank you for the love. Appreciate you anon 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff, awkward beans being awkward beans, can be interpretted as platonic or romantic depending on the vibes you want

"Sounds like big guy's mad again."

"When is he not, Parker?"

You shot the other spider a half hearted glare, too tired to fully commit. It had been a long week, in fact it had been a long three weeks. Someone, everyone had agreed not to point fingers, had lost one of the anomalies. It was a variant of Rhino, some version that looked like a bodybuilder and a mecha anime had a baby, had barreled his way through HQ and was now loose in Nueva York. Miguel's home turf.

For being such a large hunk of muscle, the anomaly was apparently very good at flying under the radar. When you and the other spiders were able to get a ping on him, he was even better at forcing his way through an escape plan. Every 'we almost got him' and 'we'll get him next time' seemed to be grinding against your boss's psyche, sometimes clenching his jaw so tight that you were concerned about his teeth breaking.

The latest hunting party was gathered in the cafeteria, comprised of Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr, Peter B and you. The bane of your existence right now, aka Peter, was obnoxiously slurping on his soda on your right, taking a bite of his O'Hara Burger between gulps. Normally things like that didn't bother you, but today it was like nails on a chalkboard; the urge to beat your own burger, that had quite the resemblance to your boss, to a pulp only growing by the minute.

"Can we just all agree that good, old Migs was the one who fumbled the bag today, yeah?" Hobie chimes in with his usual nonchalant attitude, picking at his own food.

"A...greed," everyone chimes in, all equally tired. Well...almost everyone.

You side eye Peter, who seems to be holding off on his own response. "Well..." he starts carefully, speaking through a mouthful of burger, "you were the one who wasn't able to cut the anomaly off at the corner."

"Excuse me?" you snap back.

"I'm just saying," he holds up a hand in a placating gesture, "I don't think blaming Miggy for everything is always fair. Man's got a lot on his plate keeping all of us in line."

"Boo..."

"Yeah, you sound like an old man."

The younger spiders at the table joined in on the conversation, "I am an old man, respect your elders," Peter scolds the teens before looking back at you. "Look, I'm just saying maybe take one for the team and...apologize."

"What!?"

"For fumbling the bag today."

You take a deep breath in through your nose, head leaning back as if asking for an answer from someone up above. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you look back at the man next to you, "And why do you think me apologizing will help?"

Peter shrugs, "Maybe an apology is what Mig needs to relax a little, he likes when people take accountability. Besides, everyone knows he has a soft spot for you-"

"That man doesn't have a soft anything," you cut Peter off before he can start rambling.

"C'mon," Peter sighs, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "just go in there and be all 'Ohhh~ Miguelito, I'm really sorry for messing up, please let me help pull that stick out of your ass,'" his impersonation of you has you snickering despite yourself. Damn him and his dorky humor.

"I think I'd be dead if I called him that, or anything we call him when he's not around."

"Honestly, our little nicknames are probably the more tasteful ones," Gwen notes, "Trust me, I've heard some real creative ones."

And that's what brought you to where you were now, slowly making your way into Miguel's lab. You had to keep playing the events of earlier today in your head as a reminder of why you're even here in the first place. Yes, you were the one who was meant to stop Rhino from escaping yet again, but Peter was right. You had choked. Froze on the spot and Miguel had to be the one to pull you to safety. The memory replayed over and over as you mentally scolded yourself, thinking that Rhino would be in the Go Home Machine right now had you stood your ground. But hey, hindsight was 20/20.

"Whatcha doin'?" Lyla's chipper voice pulls you from your thoughts, yellow hologram blipping from here and there as she followed you.

"M'here to see Miguel," you answer a little reluctantly, knowing what she'll ask next.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because...?" Lyla's now projecting at your side, life sized and walking in stride with you. Her eyes are focused on you, not needing to watch where she's going, seeing as she fazes through every obstacle. Your silence has her pixels forming a teasing smirk, "Oh, you did something wrong~" she coos in a sing-song voice.

"Not now, Lyla."

"Jeez..tough crowd today. I'd expect it from Miguel, but you? I thought we were friends," Lyla stopped walking, giving you a mock pout that had you rolling your eyes and continuing on your way. Lyla's so-called 'betrayal' was short lived as she appeared on one of the control tables, sitting with her legs crossed. "Well, it is good you're here. Big guy's been debating whether or not to call you into his office for the last hour."

That had you pausing. "Why does he want to talk to me?" you ask the AI, who only smirks back. It's clear that she knows, what you know, that he also knows... "How mad is he?" you decide on inquiring next, wincing a little in anticipation of her answer.

Lyla keeps you waiting, of course she does, humming and tapping her chin with a finger. "Not...too mad. Slightly over the average amount for him."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

Lyla laughs behind her hand, pixels now standing in front of you again, "Come on, you're stalling~ Rip it off like a bandaid," she pantomimes patting you on the shoulder. With a heavy sigh, you press on into the main room of Miguel's lab.

He must've heard your conversation with Lyla, the platform already starting to lower at its painfully slow pace. Miguel is standing stiff, hands on his hips and his back to you. The sight has you swallowing thickly, nerves only heightened as you watched the man, who was going to tear you a new one, approaching in the most ominous way imaginable.

With a deep breath, you step forward, finding your voice after a moment, "I think we should talk," you tell him, cursing how your voice has that slight waver to it.

Miguel audibly sighs as well, shoulders sagging at the effort. "I agree," he replies, turning to face you and stepping down to the ground floor. Your stomach drops as he approaches, Miguel stopping and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at you. Why he had to be stupidly tall and intimidating was a mystery to you, one that wouldn't be solved in this moment.

"Look, I know today could've gone better," you start with, "we almost had Rhino and we lost him. Or, I guess I lost him.." your eyes avert to the floor, hands fidgeting together, "What I'm trying to say is-"

"I'm sorry."

The two of you speak at the same time, giving you pause. Your eyes finally look up to meet his, brows knitted together in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?" you deadpan, looking at him in disbelief. Surely my ears just aren't working, you think.

Miguel huffs, not a fan of repeating himself as he adjusts his stance, "I said, I'm sorry. The anomaly got away again, that's on me."

"...What."

"You were in the prime position to neutralize the target and I got in the way," he continues to say, as if not hearing your interjection. "I...let my concerns get in the way and cloud my judgment-"

"Wait, hold on-"

"I let you down, I let the team down..."

"That's enough, Miguelito-"

"¡Cállate!" You jump when he raises his voice. "I'm trying to swallow my pride and apologize here," he snaps, annoyance evident in his tone. He huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and muttering under his breath in Spanish. You, on the other hand, were frozen on the spot. Mainly because you were still reeling from his initial outburst, but as realization set in at your slip of the tongue. Maybe he was too mad to notice?

"I came to apologize to you," you clarified, pausing when Miguel shoots you another glare. However, you were unperturbed, "It's my fault the mission went wrong. I got cold feet," you spoke a little softer, embarrassed at your confession. "If anything, I should be thanking you for making sure I didn't get trampled to death..."

"Stop," Miguel chimed in, holding up a hand to silence you. His lips pressed together in a hard line, thinking of what to say next. "You don't need to be so hard on yourself."

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Hey."

You crack a smile, hiding a chuckle behind your hand. Miguel's frown deepens and you can't help but laugh even more at the sight, the tension in the room dissipating once you realized the feeling of guilt was mutual. That and the fact you were both too stubborn to let the other be in the wrong. He seems to catch on to the irony of the situation, a reluctant snicker escaping him as he shook his head wryly.

Before either of you could pick up where you left off, there was a beeping sound coming from each of your Gizmos. It looked to be an alarm, further inspection revealing that Rhino had been spotted and all available spiders were to go to the given coordinates.

Miguel was on the move, his touch surprisingly gentle on your arm as he guided you to follow him out of the lab. Once you fell into stride, he was typing away on his Gizmo, "Parker, do you copy? I want you to gather the group from earlier and meet y/n and me there."

"Got it boss," the familiar sound of Peter B's chipper voice answered, "Anything for you, Miguelito~"

You winced slightly as he emphasized the nickname, a fresh reminder of your slip of the tongue. It had you feeling anxious once more as you walked beside the source of said anxieties.

"Don't call me that," Miguel snapped into the comm, "and don't be late," he added before ending the call. His eyes glanced your way, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a brief second. The knowing smirk and low chuckle he gave you in response was a surprise, stunning you even more.

It took a moment for you to remember that you were still walking, quickening your pace to catch back up. The two of you didn't speak as you walked through HQ, some kind of silent understanding that your earlier debate would be an 'agree to disagree' kind of situation. Everyone knows he has a soft spot for you, Peter's words echoed in your head, putting a little spring in your step. Confident that you wouldn't freeze up this time around.

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06 @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader #anon ask #lovely anons

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chiarrara · 6 months

Note

Both for the baseball and the basketball au:

From what I know about sports, everyone seems to have their own strategy or way of playing. So how do you think the characters act on field compared to their usual selves? How do you think their personalities would translate into their play ?

eeeeee, I got so giddy when I saw you asked me about this :):):)

Baseball AU: So I already kind of went into Megumi & Yuuji but I'll expand a bit and talk about some other players. And I'll try to make it comprehensible to a non-baseball watcher...

Megumi: I already talked about how he stands in the path of the ball when he's batting so he gets hit by pitches a lot, and make sacrifices to advance a runner on base. Baseball is a huge strategy game, it's basically like a board game with real people as the pieces, and Megumi is a great strategist. He's a great team leader, but not a hype man at all. He's not the guy to turn to for morale on the bench. When he's pitching, his style is to try and psych out the batter and get into their heads. He figures out what their strategy is so he knows when they're going to swing and when they're not and uses that against them. He'll fake out so it seems like he's going to throw an easy to hit pitch then change it up throwing off the batters rhythm or aim and making them swing at an impossible pitch. During a difficult at-bat, he gets scary, like dude has crazy eyes. He has psyched out batters so bad that he gets a reputation as a demon pitcher. Dudes have said they saw his eyes go black before he struck them out. So, people are always thrown off when they meet him outside a game and he's the most apathetic guy you've ever met.

Yuuji: Our boy is always swinging for the fences. Everything he does he does at 100% and he's not usually going to be super cunning about it, he's just going to overpower you and somehow do the impossible. So those sneaky pitches Megumi throws, Yuuji is somehow going to hit them. His at-bat's are really long (because he's hitting lots of foul balls, don't worry about it) so pitchers think they can wear him down, but his stamina is crazy and he stays sharp even after 10 or 15 pitches. He's not strategic like Megumi, but he has great instincts. He knows what he can do and he knows how to do it. This means he knows when he can make it to second or third base off a big hit instead of stopping at first. Also, he's absolutely the hype man, he's always boosting morale in the dugout. He's the most classic athlete type, he's a super positive ball of sunshine, but when it's time to get down to it he goes into that flow state focus. He's also the most determined. He doesn't always know they can win, but he'll do absolutely everything he can either way.

Toge: Look, this screencap of Inumaki on base with his little peace sign lives rent free in my head.

he's what my dad called a "slap hitter" ??? basically, he gets hits and gets to first base a lot. He's really athletic in a different way than Yuuji, he's quick and flexible. He's great at stealing bases, and he does a little swimming motion when he slides in to avoid getting tagged. The infield is always on high alert when he's on base. He can play a few positions in the infield--shortstop, third base, second--and gets moved around a lot. Toge he's really good at encouraging his teammates in subtle ways, and he's super reliable on the field and off.

Yuuta: I think Yuuta can play a lot of positions like, way more masterfully than someone who isn't specializing in that position should be able to. He's a closing pitcher with a wicked fastball. He's on first base pulling a full split to make a catch while keeping his foot on the base. He's in the outfield making a catch all the way at the wall and throwing guys out at home, or picking up a line drive in the right field corner and throwing a guy out at third on the opposite side of the field. He just picks things up really easily. He made friends through joining sports so he is crazy loyal to his team and loves his teammates, but he kinda sucks at giving motivational speeches and things like that. However, when the game is on the line and it's up to him to get his team the win, he's gonna go out there and absolutely destroy the other team. It has been said that he won a game single-handedly once which is...not a thing you can do in baseball, but when he's getting the hits, making key outs, and then striking batters out in the 9th inning, he's kind of doing the impossible. He's always super friendly to his opponents after the game.

Gojo: He's lauded as a great coach and he was a superstar player, but if you ask his players... he's useless, he just recruits well.

BONUS:

Todo: I don't think he's on their team, and I wasn't going to include him in this post, but I was talking with my dad and I had an idea for him. He is the type of player who will legitimately injure people. He will barrel into the catcher at home plate to prevent them from making the catch and tagging him out. He tackles the second baseman to break up a double play. He slides into players with his cleats up intentionally. He's actually the scariest player on the field and not in a good way.

(I'm going to do the basketball au in another post & tag u <3)

#jjk baseball au #itafushi baseball au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itafushi #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #okkotsu yuuta #inumaki toge #aoi todo

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book-of-baba-fett · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs - Chapter 21

Captain Rex x OC

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: The battle for Anaxes has reached its breaking point. As the Republic and Separatist forces face off, will Rex and Talia be able to get past their history or will the rising tension between them lead to further broken hearts.

Chapter Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f receiving), PiV, creampie, canon typical violence, mentions of death.

A/N: Thanks for your patience with the wait on this one. It's a long chapter, but I in no good conscious could split it in half and make y'all wait (which for me, who loves good cliffhangers, is saying something.) Thanks to my darling @galacticgraffiti for beta reading, and for being with me on this journey for TWO YEARS. Won't be much longer for the next chapter.

Ao3 Link

Series Masterlist

19 BBY - Anaxes

The Republic suffered heavy losses on Anaxes, something that Rex couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt for as he walked through the medical station at camp. Given the chance, he wouldn’t do anything differently, he would always go back for Echo; but he couldn’t ignore the nagging thought in the back of his head that he should also have been in the field for the rest of his men. It was hard for him to not feel like he had the responsibility of the war on his shoulders. After so many years of command it was impossible to not feel that burden. Part of his mind told himself that he should be used to it by now, that this was the way of war. But the other part reminded himself that he was feeling that guilt because he was human.

Echo had been in medical care since they arrived back on Anaxes the night before, and Rex hadn’t seen him since. He had to get caught up on the siege and was also encouraged by Kix to give the medical team some time, and Echo a chance for much needed rest. But Rex came as soon as he had a moment, he wanted Echo to know he had someone there for him. As soon as Rex walked in to see him, he was greeted by the sound of raucous laughter.

“-and that’s not even all of it,” Jesse was saying as he stood in front of Echo, a grin overtaking his face. Kix was leaning on a table to the side, shaking his head but smiling along, Echo sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands as he shook with laughter. “You know how Hardcase could never say no to anything. So, when he was dared to try a sip, he downed the whole bottle-”

“And the whole barracks regretted the dare with how much he puked that night,” Rex added, remembering the story Jesse was sharing as he walked in. Jesse and Kix laughed at the memory and Echo smiled along. “We were lucky to be shipped out the next morning: I feel bad for the cleaning droids that had to deal with that.”

“I’m sure the 501st is responsible for half the contraband rules in the GAR,” Echo joined in, the smile on his face making him look livelier than he had the day before. Jesse and Kix said their goodbyes, giving Rex a chance to talk to Echo alone.

“How are you feeling?” Rex asked tentatively.

“As good as I can be,” Echo replied simply with a small shrug. “Medics say I’m fine, I’ve just been getting some nutrients and solid food for the first time since…well, since it happened.”

Rex nodded, glad to know that there weren’t any flags raised. Echo would still have to go through some conditioning and a psych eval before going back to combat, but there was some relief in knowing Echo would be ok. Echo shifted his seat, a frown creasing on his lips as his face scrunched in thought. He glanced at the door where Jesse and Kix just walked out, then back at Rex.

“Fives is dead, isn’t he?”

Rex exhaled heavily. Of course, Echo was too smart to not figure out why Fives hadn’t come to see him yet.

“I’m sorry. That’s one of the reasons I was coming to talk to you today.”

Echo nodded, his head tilted down, so he was looking at his hand and the scomp link the Techno Union had attached. “The last thing I remember was him calling my name. Next thing I knew-”

Echo’s words choked in his throat, but he swallowed whatever he was trying to say. He glanced back up at Rex and forced a smile. “Figured he would have been on the mission with you guys, that’s how I knew he was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex repeated, because once more guilt was taking over him. It felt too simple just to say ‘sorry’. That one small word couldn’t encompass all the guilt he was feeling, and how it connected to Fives. He forced a low chuckle, thinking of a different world.“Fives would have been the first volunteer, and he might have single-handedly taken on the Techno Union if he’d seen what they did to you.”

“How did it-” Echo started to ask but a knock sounded on the door. Rex and Echo glanced to see Talia standing in the doorway. A pit formed in Rex’s stomach at her sudden appearance; he hadn’t spoken to her since their conversation on the Havoc Marauder.

“Sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting,” Talia quickly said, her eyes flicking once in Rex’s direction before locking on Echo. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“It’s fine. I was just leaving, General,” Rex said quickly. Echo’s eyes darted between the two of them, but he smiled politely at Talia. In truth Rex did have to leave - he was supposed to be in command for a briefing on his next assignment. And Cody was still injured, so he was going to stop by his quarters to see him after checking on Echo. He was also being selfish, because he hadn’t thought of how he would explain how Fives died to Echo before he stepped in. Everything around Fives’ death was painful, and he didn’t want to cause Echo any more potential stress. It was just another burden for Rex to carry.

Since Cody was out of immediate danger, he was allowed to rest in his officer’s quarters and attend briefings, but much to his chagrin, he wasn’t cleared for combat. When Rex entered Cody’s room, the commander was out of the bed, sitting at his desk with a datapad in front him. Rex knew no medical orders could keep his brother from work. Cody didn’t look too bad anymore, he was just bandaged around his chest; it was probably precaution more than anything that kept him on rest. Cody looked up as Rex entered and offered a mumbled greeting.

“How are you feeling?” Rex asked, sitting on the edge of the bed that Cody had abandoned.

“I’m fine,” Cody grunted, uncharacteristically grumpy. He sighed and looked at Rex. “I should be cleared for duty already. It’s ridiculous being cooped up here.”

“I’m sure Kenobi has things under control, and wouldn’t want you to rush yourself,” Rex offered. Cody grunted again.

“You’re right. Hell, he’s probably the one ordering the medics to keep me here no matter how much I try and pull rank,” Cody’s tone had lightened a bit. “Still, I can’t imagine I’ll be out of action much longer. I heard things went well on Skako.”

Rex nodded. “Echo’s still being looked over. He seems to be holding things together well, after everything he’s been through.”

“That’s good to hear, he was always a good kid,” Cody said. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Never deserved for that to happen to him.”

Rex nodded. He couldn’t think of anyone who would deserve what the Techno Union did to Echo.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Cody asked.

“It’s not easy to see brother in that state, or to know I’m partially responsible for him being left behind-”

“You’re not,” Cody interrupted. “You know you can’t think like that. It was a mission from hell, and we couldn’t have known what would happen to him.”

“Still doesn’t make it any easier.” Rex replied darkly.

Cody seemed to accept that and nodded.

“Still, that actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Cody said slowly, as if Rex was missing something more obvious. Rex just stared at him in mild confusion. Cody put his datapad down and fixed Rex with a serious stare. “You looked like you saw a ghost when you saw General Riva the other day, Rex.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Rex frowned and shook his head.

“Rex, we aren’t going to sit here and act like you haven’t been a miserable piece of shit since you two ended things.”

Rex scoffed at that, “Bold of you to call that out.”

Cody sighed and pushed his chair back. “Honestly… seeing how you’ve been since and watching you two dance around each other in command meetings this past week, I’m surprised no one else called either of you out before.”

“There’s nothing to call out, we ended-”

“I know it’s over,” Cody waved him off, “But Rex, come on. You look at her like the stars shine out of her ass. How the hell did I never see it?”

Rex stared at him in disbelief. “What does it even matter now?”

Cody sighed and fixed Rex with an imploring look. “I’m saying you do everything you can to look after the 501st, all of our brothers. Maybe I was wrong to call out the one thing you did to look after yourself.”

“What, suddenly I have your blessing or something?” Rex scoffed.

“I don’t give a shit what you do. All I care about is that you take care of yourself. We’ve lost so much. All of us. And we need to fight for something that we believe. Not because we were trained to fight for it, but because we chose to fight for it. It’s what makes us human.”

Rex frowned and looked at his hands, already warring with himself. He opened his mouth to try and find a reply, but nothing came out. He was rescued by his comm beeping - General Skywalker ready to brief him on the next assignment already. Rex sighed heavily, and glanced back at Cody who was still giving him that frustrating, knowing look. If he hadn’t been injured, Rex would have had an urge to slap it off his face. And yet once again, Rex was leaving Cody’s room after a conversation that would stick in his mind.

The air around the base was tense. One didn’t need the Force to sense that something was about to finally give in the battle for Anaxes. They had been stuck in this stalemate for too long, and now both sides were getting ready for a final push. Rex trusted Echo’s plan to feed false information to the Separatist forces, even if Rex was worried Echo was pushing himself back into action too quickly. Rex would also stand by Echo, no matter how much the Batch seemed wary of his intentions, worried that he had spent too much time working with the Separatists to truly be on the Republic’s side again. Rex knew Echo, knew he’d had no choice in what his mind was used for. But now, he did.

The Batch and Anakin had already boarded the Havoc Marauder, and as Rex turned to join them a voice called out, “Wait a second!”

Rex turned as Talia was running over, a little out of breath. She halted in front of him as Rex stood next to the walkway.

“Aren’t you leading the 412th into the assembly complex?” Rex asked bluntly. Talia frowned, but shook her head.

“Storm has it under control. I figured you all could use some extra support here,” Talia’s tone turned stiff. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Rex couldn’t ignore the slight crack in her voice. He sighed and shook his head, “It’s not my call what you chose to do, General.”

Talia pursed her lips but nodded, “Then we best get on our way.”

She sidestepped him and boarded the ship, leaving Rex looking on as he once again found himself berating every little action he took. Just like when they went to Skako Minor, he knew her help was always an asset. And he didn’t want it to be this way, but he was still thinking about his conversation with Cody, and what had happened on Skako.

It wasn’t his place to question her, especially not anymore, but Rex could still feel the terror-filled awe that had overtaken him when he watched Talia take down the tri-droids with lightning. He had seen many incredible things done by the Jedi, but to see that amount of raw power coming from someone he cared about… it was mesmerizing, inspiring, and terrifying all at once. He had always known how powerful Talia was, even when she doubted it herself, but this was beyond anything he could ever have imagined. And what had scared him the most was that Talia didn’t seem to care about the cost it took on her. He saw how the lightning lit up her body, encasing her in a frightening glow, only for her to fall weak to her knees, exhausted and drained instantly after. Rex was a practical man, and Talia was right that a power like that had its use. He just didn’t think it was worth risking anything that could cause her pain.

As he contemplated this, he was only left more frustrated afterward, unable to convey his worry as anything more than irritation. Especially when it seemed like there had been a chance for normalcy between them again with how they had talked on the mission.

He didn’t want to hurt her, that was never something Rex desired. But he couldn’t resist throwing her words back at her, because even though Rex knew Talia hadn’t meant to be cruel, she had to know how horrible it made him feel. But now he felt even worse for the pain he saw in her eyes, seeing that she obviously felt guilt for the way things had ended between them.

And then there was what Cody said. As frustrated as Rex was by his brother’s sudden change of tone, Rex couldn’t go back on his decision just like that. For all he knew, Talia wouldn’t even want him anymore. Rex had surely done enough to keep her at arm’s length in his own misguided sense of duty, but he also worried he may have lost his chance. Crosshair’s teasing remarks to Hunter still rung in his ears, and he thought of how comfortable she seemed with the Sergeant. It hurt to think that she might have moved on so quickly, but Rex couldn’t fault her for doing what made her happy. In fact, the only thing he wanted for her was happiness.

If only there was time to work out this mess between them before it complicated things on missions even more. But Rex couldn’t ignore the rushing feeling around him, that the galaxy was heading in a certain direction and couldn’t be stopped. He, his brothers, and the Jedi were caught in the middle, ready to crash when this all ended.

Sneaking onto the Separatist dreadnought went almost too smoothly, something that kept Talia’s nerves on edge. They didn’t encounter any droids on the way to the comm vault, aiding their plans for a stealth mission - even if Wrecker seemed to be tired of all their sneaking around. The vault was a small, circular room lined with wiring and electrical lights, and a tall console in its middle that Tech was rigging an interface in so Echo could safely log in. Anakin was checking to make sure there were no other entrances to the vault, ensuring that they couldn’t be attacked by Separatist troops. Talia held her blade in her hand, twirling it in her hand, ready to ignite at a second’s notice.

Talia was playing things close to the chest with this mission. Storm had already sent her a message conveying that the other Generals were not so understanding of her decision to abandon the plan that she should lead the 412th into the assembly complex, and that she had left Storm to command in her stead. But Talia’s mind was in too many places, and her judgment told her this was the place she needed to be. She could deal with the council later, even though she could guess that she would be under criticism for her rash decisions.

Once Tech gave the go ahead, Echo scomped into the mainframe, instantly accessing all the data. He intercepted a request from Admiral Trench, which Tech pointed out they would need to reroute the message to make it seem like the call was still coming from Skako Minor.

Talia stepped into the corridor that was leading to the mainframe, giving some space from the small room. They were lucky to have been undetected this long, but Talia knew that luck would eventually run out. She tapped her foot, glancing around as she tried to keep her mind focused.

“You doing alright?” Hunter’s question cut into her nervousness as he stepped up beside her in the corridor.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Talia shrugged off, her voice more curtly than she had intended, earning a raised brow from Hunter. She exhaled, and attempted to sound more at ease. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve just noticed how…tense you get whenever the Captain’s around.”

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to face him. “Your enhanced senses can’t work like that.”

Hunter snorted at how she didn’t even deny it, a grin curving on his tattooed face. “They don’t. Anyone with any sense can see it.”

Talia cursed under her breath. “Here I thought we were always good at hiding it.”

“You probably were before,” Hunter shrugged. “But whatever happened between you two…it’s still hanging in the air.”

Talia huffed a laugh at that, it was such a simple observation, but she couldn’t ignore the truth behind it. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“Well, I know one thing; even if you had never told me you had a history with a clone, I would have still known you were in love with him by the way you two go back and forth. In battle, and in conversation,” Hunter stated as simply as if he were recounting a mission. He made it sound so obvious, , as if it were the most natural thing. “Hell, even the way you look at him when you think no one else is noticing. Same for him.”

Talia let out a mirthless laugh at that, “I think we’re long past the days where he looked at me that way.”

She berated herself for letting that slip. She had already overstepped with Hunter in too many ways to count, but he just looked at her with a somewhat exasperated look. “He’s doing it now.”

Talia frowned and glanced over her shoulder, just to see Rex’s head turn the other way. Talia’s cheeks burned and her heart ached, she couldn’t give herself that hope, even if Hunter was trying to make it feel better. Shaking her head, she mumbled, “We should check what’s going on.”

Walking back into the room, Rex’s eyes flicked in her direction once more, to Hunter, then back to Talia. His lips flickered to an almost imperceptible frown, something anyone but Talia wouldn’t have noticed. She must be imagining it, though. Interrupting her musings, Tech made a confused noise as he looked at his datapad.

“I’m intercepting a transmission,” Tech said, suspicion in his voice, “Trench is ordering all his troops to the assembly complex.”

“All right, Echo, what are you trying to pull?” Hunter asked doubtfully.

“Don’t worry, that’s what I told him to do,” Echo answered with an assuredness only an ARC Trooper possessed.

“But our troops will be vastly outnumbered?” Rex deduced doubtingly.

“Not when I send the feedback pulse that shuts down all the droids,” Echo explained.

“How do we know that’s what you’re really going to do?” Hunter asked suspiciously. Both he and Tech were sharing a doubting look, as if they had been expecting this all along.

“We have to trust him,” Rex jumped in, frustration mounting in his voice as he tried to placate Hunter and Tech.

“Rex is right,” Talia joined, knowing that nothing would be accomplished if the squad was arguing amongst itself. “If Echo says the plan will work, it’ll work.”

“We’re counting on you, Echo,” Anakin said as he lifted his wrist to call General Windu, warning him that things were going to get a lot heavier for the troops in the assembly complex. Echo returned his focus, and Hunter and Tech seemed to accept that if it was a good enough plan for the Jedi, it was good enough for them, even if Talia could still feel the lingering suspicion on them. Rex on the other hand, didn’t waiver in his trust. In fact he seemed grateful that the tension had dissipated.

“We should be on guard,” Talia said aside to Rex, “With what I know of Trench, he’ll probably be suspicious the second things don’t work out as planned.”

“You’re right,” Rex agreed, glancing down at Echo, “I hope he didn’t play his hand too strong.”

“Keep an eye on things here, I can patrol outside and be ready at the first sign of trouble,” Talia ordered, already turning to the exit.

“What?” Rex asked, following her, “Let one of the Batch do it, I know Wrecker is itching for a fight.”

“And that’s a surefire way for us all to be discovered before anything happens,” Talia joked, earning a light huff of laughter from Rex. “Don’t worry: they won’t see me until it’s too late to do anything about it.”

Rex nodded as Talia turned away, her hilt in hand and ready for action.

“Talia,” Rex called, and she stopped; she had almost forgotten how sweet her first name sounded off his lips. She glanced back at him, his hands clenched at his sides, his brow furrowed as if he didn’t know why he called for her in the first place. He exhaled softly and met her eyes, “May the Force be with you.”

Talia nodded in return, a warmth settling in her, “May the Force be with you.”

The eerie calm of the ship was something that might have unsettled a younger Talia, new to war and battle. Hell, even a few hours ago she would have been more unnerved by the prospect of sneaking around, waiting for the calm to break. But she had to be prepared, she knew this calm would not last. It never did. She hid in the ventilation shafts, out of reach of any droids who passed by on patrol, waiting for any sign or signal that would propel her into action.

Talia’s comm chirped and she answered quickly, hearing Rex on the other side.

“Talia, they know we’re onboard. We’re going to have to make a quick evac,” Rex said rapidly.

“Got it, I’ll clear a path for you,” Talia answered. Sure enough, the sounds of clanking footsteps were starting to fill the corridors. Talia kicked open the grate beneath her and dropped below, landing with a thud and ignited her saber. She held the blade in front of her, the glow lighting the corridor as the steps approached. Talia stood still, breathed in and out, and waited for the first droid to round the corner.

Once they turned, they immediately fired, but Talia was ready, redirecting their shots effortlessly with her saber. The hall was narrow, preventing more than two droids from lining up side by side as they approached. Talia sprinted forward, her momentum carrying her up the side of the wall, and she leapt in the middle of the group of droids. Before they could turn back to fire at her, she tossed her saber at the front group, slicing them in half before calling it back. She twirled her blade rapidly, redirecting the shots the second group was firing at her, slowly pressing forward to make it to the end of the hall.

Blaster fire echoed down the corridor; more droid forces must have corned the rest of the squad. Still, Talia pushed forward, hoping that her presence as a Jedi would call more of the droid troops to her position.

She sliced droids in half, used the force to crush them into the durasteel walls of the ship. Their shots danced around her, narrowly missing her as she carved a path through them. Her comm beeped, but she ignored the sound as she focused on the droids. Rapid metal footsteps behind her proved her plan worked, as a pair of commando droids stormed towards her. She held up her hand and slowed them with the Force, still using her blade to take out the droids closer to her. As she lost her hold, they sprinted toward her, but she moved quicker, sliding to the ground on her knees and slicing the droids at their calves, making them crash to the ground. The disassembled droids tried to push themselves up, but Talia Force-pushed them backwards, into the pile of miscellaneous droid parts her fighting had caused.

Talia ran forward down the hall, getting closer and closer to the port the squad had used to enter the ship. Blaster fire still sounded, and she hoped the squad had made it back unharmed.

Another squad of droids found her, and Talia had to give their programming credit for their tenacity. A few more, and this might even grow to be a challenge for her. She raised her blade, ready to strike again when a small round device rolled towards the droids from behind her.

The droid popper went off and the droids crumpled to the ground from the shock. Talia’s blade disengaged as she turned in confusion to see Rex standing behind her, one hand holding a blaster that pointed at where the droids previously stood.

“The rest of the squad is already on the ship, we need to go,” he explained shortly.

“I had it under control,” Talia answered irritably; she didn’t need to be rescued from a handful of battle droids. Rex sighed as he turned.

“You weren’t answering your comm,” Rex said as he stepped away. “And I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Guilt wrapped in Talia’s gut for how harsh her tone was. She quickened her steps after him and grabbed Rex’s forearm. He halted his steps, his helmet locked on where her hand grabbed him as she said, “Thanks…for having my back.”

His helmet lifted and she stared into the back of his visor. “Always will.”

Talia didn’t know what to say. She just nodded, and finally released his arm when she realized she was holding it for far longer than she should have. Rex nodded and turned back down the hall, his blaster raising once more.

It didn’t take them long to reach the Marauder, which dislodged from the dreadnought as soon as they were safely on board. Anakin handed a detonation device to Wrecker, who let out a loud cheer as the dreadnought exploded, and Talia internally echoed his joy: after so much back and forth, it was good to have a victory that meant this siege was over. She stepped out of the cockpit, going to sit in the back of the ship for the quick trip back to base.

“Talia,” Rex’s voice called from behind her, she turned to find him approaching her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Talia flicked a simple grin back at him, ignoring the way her gut flipped as he came up.

“For the record,” he started, and Talia tensed, preparing for some other fault he had suddenly discovered in her. But to her surprise, Rex;s hand was scratching the back of his neck, his tone more apologetic as he continued. “I know you could have handled those droids. I wasn’t trying to overstep-“

“You were trying to show off,” Talia interrupted, deciding humor was the best way to dissolve yet another moment of tense awkwardness. To her relief, Rex smiled. “I meant my thanks. You know more than most how stubborn I can get.”

Rex laughed at that, then asked, “So, what’s next for you? I’m assuming the 412th will be shipped out pretty quickly.”

“I’m sure I’ll be getting orders from the council as soon as we land,” Talia shrugged, not letting herself feel hope at the twinge of something akin to sadness she felt coming from Rex as he asked her, “That is, of course, if I’m not grounded on Coruscant again.”

Rex raised a brow at her, and Talia sighed, biting her lip before continuing, “I kind of went rogue to join you guys here. Storm covered for me, and things ended up working out, but I can bet I’ll be getting an earful about recklessness.”

“Why would you do that?” Rex asked. His brows were cinched as he tried to read her face. For such a smart man, he could be truly oblivious at times. Talia was sure the same could be said about herself.

Talia glanced around the ship, making sure the Batch and Anakin were still otherwise focused before she met Rex’s eyes. “Look, Rex, I know things are complicated between us right now. But I still care about you, and I was worried.”

Rex didn’t say anything, his brows still furrowed as he listened. Talia gulped and couldn’t hold back the words spilling from her mouth.

“It’s just, I can tell how much stress you’ve been under, and I know I haven’t helped with that, but when you went to Skako I had to be there for you in case things with Echo didn’t turn out as well. And today, I was just still so nervous that something would go wrong, and even if you didn’t want me here I had to make sure-“

Talia’s words were cut off as Rex’s lips pressed into hers, her eyes widening in shock but fluttering closed as she melted into the kiss. His hand was placed against her lower back, holding her close to him; Talia had weirdly missed the uncomfortable way that plastoid pressed into her as her body was against his.

Rex pulled back slowly, his eyes drifting open, that soft, warm brown that still made her gut twist in the best way. For a moment, he looked content, then his eyes widened, and he removed his hand from her back.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“ Rex shook his head softly but the way he looked at her told Talia that he didn’t believe a word he was saying.

Talia opened her mouth, trying to say a million things back to him. It’s ok. You have no idea how much I wanted that. I missed you.

I love you.

“We’ll be landing shortly, everyone should get seated,” Tech called from the cockpit. Rex pushed away from Talia, returning to the cockpit. She was frozen, still feeling him on her lips and cursing herself for not saying more, terrified that she had lost her last chance.

Some people hated goodbyes, or at least Rex had heard that in sayings tossed around by natborns. But Rex had always felt differently, mostly because he couldn’t count the number of people he never had the chance to say goodbye to. He couldn’t let himself linger on it, it wouldn’t help anything, but sometimes he found himself wondering what he would say with one last word. But Rex was beginning to understand what the sayings meant, as he watched Echo leave.

He knew it was the right call, that Echo knew where his place really was. It just felt like Rex was saying goodbye to a part of him, even though Echo hadn’t been back for long. But Echo was something to hold on to from the early days of the war, ever since he was that overeager shiny from the Rishi Moon. Just a kid when he joined the 501st, now he was a man forged by the harsh clock of war. And with him left one of the few things that tied Rex to an older version of himself he could scarcely remember.

Rex informed the generals that the Bad Batch had already departed, not being the types for the ceremonies of the medals they had earned. The generals didn’t comment, and Rex stood tall as General Windu handed him the medal he had earned. It sounded egotistical to say, but Rex couldn’t count the amount he had gotten in the last three years. He kept them of course, but he never knew what to think of them. At first there was an honor that came with them, and he still felt that, but now he couldn’t ignore the way he was shrouded by a bit of jadedness. After everything that had happened, this was just another campaign to add to the countless he had been in. He saluted as Windu gave him the medal, but the one thing on his mind was Talia, and wondering why she wasn’t there.

Dusk had quickly settled over the encampment, its golden glow and the harsh shadows casting over the men who already worked to pack up equipment. A small force would remain on Anaxes, as was protocol, but the cog of GAR couldn’t slow down, and most of the forces would be quickly redistributed to wherever else in the Galaxy they were needed. Rex had assumed the 412th would be one of the first groups to set out, something seemingly confirmed by the amount of troops wearing black and gold armor that still hustled around the base.

It was reckless and stupid for Rex to kiss Talia, not just because they were in plain view of Anakin and the Batch, but because he had done it without thinking. His feet carried him across the compound, somehow more determined than his own confused mind as they led Rex in a direction with no idea what course of action he could even take.

Three heavy knocks pounding on her durasteel door shocked Talia out of her meditation, or more of her attempt at it. She should be packing; she was heading out first thing in the morning, but when she got back to her room she couldn’t focus on anything. Not the report she needed to fill out, not the fact that she was clearly in trouble with the Council from the tone that Windu and Kenobi had used with her. The only thing she could think about was how she could still feel Rex’s lips on hers, could still feel the pressure of his hand against her lower back, the remnants of his essence tattooed in her memory. She practically bolted to her room after speaking with the other Jedi, trying to rid the confusing moment from her mind to no avail. So when the knocks sounded, in the way that only he ever did, she stared at the door as if that would will it to open, for she was frozen to the ground and unsure if she could even handle being in a space alone with Rex.

Slowly, she rose from the ground, approaching the door with heavy steps before opening it. Rex stood on her step, his helmet clutched tightly in his hands, doubt and questioning etched into his face. His eyes met Talia’s, and for a moment she half expected him to excuse himself and turn away, instead he blurted, “Can I come in?”

With a lump in her throat, Talia nodded and stepped to the side, allowing Rex to enter, quickly shutting the door behind him. It was strange how easily he fit into the room, she was so used to sharing spaces with him that she hadn’t pinpointed how empty her quarters felt without him until this moment. His eyes scanned over the room, shifting his feet uncomfortably as he fiddled with his helmet in his hands. He exhaled, and set it on Talia’s desk, before returning to face her.

“Echo left,” he said with measured words. Whatever he was going to say, that wasn’t close to what Talia expected, and she sensed it was not what he planned on saying first.

“I’m sorry,” Talia offered sincerely, knowing how conflicted Rex must feel about it. “I’m guessing he joined the Batch?”

Rex nodded. “I told him to go, and said that if it was where he felt his place was, then that’s where he belongs.”

“Not everyone’s path is the same one they started on,” Talia said sagely, “After everything Echo’s been through, I’m glad he’s able to choose his own way.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Rex said slowly. “’Choice’ was never something us clones would have thought of. From the moment we’re created, our whole plan is set ahead of us. We train, we fight, and then we die for the Republic. Or atleast, that’s what I used to think. Once I got out here, once I lived, I knew nothing could be so simple, no matter how much my training tried to tell me there was just one goal for me. In fact, the longer I’ve survived, the more confusing it all seems.”

“That’s living,” Talia mused softly, “Even the wisest seers in the Order can misread the future. That’s because there’s no accounting for how people grow, how they can change their minds and their wants.”

“Or how they can be pushed in different directions,” Rex added. He shook his head, then glanced back at Talia. They stood in silence, just the low thrum of the air running through the vents of the quarters, the faded sounds of the camp outside the walls. Rex shifted his stance, and took a breath before addressing Talia again.

“I had to see you before you left,” Rex started, his words weighted and heavy. “I owe you an apology-“

“Rex don’t-“ Talia interrupted, crossing her arms and avoiding his gaze. She gulped. “Emotions were running high, and that can be confusing enough for anyone.”

“That’s not-, I’m not here to apologize for the kiss,” Rex took a deep breath, “I mean...yes, if it upset you, I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

Talia’s heart pounded, “It didn’t upset me.”

Rex was trembling slightly as he approached her, as if the weight of all the burdens he had been carrying of late were finally releasing from him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Rex said softly, his voice rough and sincere. “That’s the thing I want least in the galaxy.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Talia pleaded, the gap between them closing. “Rex, you know I think so much more of you, of all of you, than that you’re just soldiers-“

“I know that, “ Rex offered, “I know you too well to think you meant it. But at the moment, it hurt.”

“I regretted it the second I said it,” Talia continued, “But you left and I realized I ruined everything.”

“You didnt-” Rex took a deep breath, shaking his head as he insisted, “I was the one who fucked it all up.”

“What a pair we are, huh?” Talia forced a laugh before toying with her lip. She glanced back up at Rex, and hesitated before admitting. “We had everything, but it fell apart so fast.”

“We knew it was too good to last.” Rex muttered, but he knew he was lying to himself, trying to comfort the guilt he was feeling.

“Did we? I think I was so blinded, I couldn’t see anything other than you. But then you were gone and…I realized how much of a fool I was…” the words were beginning to roll off Talia’s tongue, faster than her own mind could comprehend what she was saying to hold herself together. “I realized how much I held back and wished I didn’t. How much more we could have had if I hadn’t been such an idiot. Now, when I think of you I’m in pain; because I had something perfect, something amazing. And I lost it because I felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

Rex was silent, and fear crept into Talia that she had admitted too much. That she was speaking to a lost cause, that he had lost any ounce of feeling he once had for her and this conversation was doing nothing but making him pity her.

“I’m the one who pushed you away,” Rex offered, cutting through Talia’s thoughts. Rex avoided her eyes, as if the piercing gaze would be too strong for him to face as he searched for his own explanation. “All because I got scared that we could never have what we wanted, that no matter what I felt, it wasn’t possible. You called me a coward, and you were right. Just… after you got hurt, I was so terrified. I couldn’t deal with the pain of losing you like that. And when Cody confronted me, I gave in. Almost as if I felt that if we weren’t together, that it would hurt less than the fear of losing you.”

“Rex,” Talia said softly, lifting a hand to his face. Rex tensed at the contact, and Talia almost retracted her touch, but his eyes met hers and they were those same soft, warm eyes that she loved. She lost her train of thought, any words of reassurance or doubts of herself that she was about to say we lost as she looked into his eyes. Instead, she blurted out words she should have said long ago-“I love you.”

Her heart pounded as the words escaped her lips, fear and doubt creeping into her mind as she worried if she lost her mind for even saying it now, the same fear that had kept her from saying it before. But now it was out there and couldn’t be taken back.

“I know,” Rex replied softly, stepping so close to her now that barely inches separated them. “I’ve always known. Just like I’ve always known I’m in love with you.”

Talia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, whether to keep spouting her feelings, dating back to all the times she should have said it before, but she just did the thing that felt most natural to her, which was to pull Rex closer and kiss him.

Rex’s arms were around her in an instant, holding her tightly against him, his grasp so tight it was clear he had no intention of letting her go. Talia’s hands wrapped around the back of his neck, fingernails scraping against that small patch of skin not covered by his undersuit or armor as their kiss deepened, hard and needy. Rex pushed her back into the wall, the cold durasteel firm against her back as Rex’s armor pressed into her front. She gasped as they pulled back for air, at first overwhelmed by the closeness, but when she saw Rex in front of her, she just felt comfort and longing. She pulled him back in, desperately seeking his lips, moaning into his mouth as his thigh slotted in between her legs.

The noise awakened something in Rex, and he rushed to start taking off some of the armor from his upper body, his fumbling hands unlatching the pieces as Talia held him for the kiss. He needed to be out of his armor, needed to feel the warmth of her body against his. Talia realized what he was doing and pulled back, freeing her hands so she could help. But Rex’s lips found hers once more as they both clumsily grasped at the armor, dropping pieces of plastoid without a care to where they landed, only separating for air.

“Wait,” Rex gasped once as they pulled back, his lips swollen but a confused look on his face, before he hesitantly asked. “What about Hunter?”

“You know about Hunter?” Talia asked, guilt and apprehension filling her.

“I do,” Rex swallowed and nodded. “I’m not upset…at least not with you. I let you go, and that’s the biggest mistake I ever made. If he’s what you want, I’ll step away now. You’ll never hear from me unless you want to. I’m sure he could make you happier than-”

Talia shut Rex up by stepping up on her toes, cupping her hands on his cheeks and catching his lips with hers. Rex's eyes bugged wide, until they fluttered closed, his arms wrapping around her once more, holding her, taking comfort in the soft warmth of the curves of her body she pressed against the grooves of the remaining parts of his armor.

“I just told you I love you,” Talia reminded him with a slight, teasing giggle. Her face softened as she caressed his cheek with her thumb, “I slept with Hunter, but it was just so I could try and forget you for a moment.”

“I - really?” Rex asked. Talia could almost laugh at how surprised he was, as if he had already accepted the worst. His face then became more serious. “I…you should know. I slept with someone else too. It was just a one night thing, I haven’t contacted her since.”

“It’s okay,” Talia nodded, ignoring the hypocritical way she was hurt. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have to talk about that now. Just…shut up and keep kissing me.”

“More than happy to follow that order,” Rex leaned in with a smirk and kissed her with a renewed hunger, his hands tightly gripping the curve of her hips. Talia groaned into Rex’s mouth as she pressed as close to him as possible, her hands fumbling for the latches on his chestplate. Rex pulled back to help her lift it away, and dropped it to the floor with a loud clunk. With only his lower armor still on, Talia’s hands ran up Rex’s chest, feeling the firm muscles and warmth of him in her grasp. Her fingers clenched around the fabric, using it to pull him to her once more. Rex’s hands slid down her waist, gripping under her thighs and picking her up, making Talia yelp in surprise.

They stumbled to the desk, Rex clumsily setting Talia on the edge of it, their lips barely separating for air. They were frantic, needy, desperate, as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they stopped. Rex pulled at the wrappings of her tunic, exposing Talia’s heaving chest. His mouth only left her lips then, trailing to the soft skin of her neck, his teeth nipping along the exposed skin and down to the breasts about to fall out of her bra. Talia moaned as Rex slid her bra cup to the side, and sucked at her now exposed nipple. His other hand slid under the other cup, groping at the soft flesh. The cold air left goosebumps over her skin, contrasted by the warmth of Rex’s hands and mouth. Rex could spend hours like this, slowly exploring the body he knew so well yet hadn’t been able to appreciate in so long. In fact there was little else on his mind at that moment besides what he wanted to do to her just in this state of undress, except he had other ideas in mind.

Rex lowered to his knees, kissing down Talia’s stomach and dragging his hands down her torso, relishing in the sweet gasps for air that were leaving Talia’s lips. Rex’s hands stopped as he began to tug her pants down. Pink scars lingered on her hip, trailing down her leg from the flame licked path. He paused, his fingers caressing the slightly raised skin, Talias breath hitched, Rex’s eyes flicked to her face, searching for any sign of discomfort. Talia’s eyes had squeezed shut, enough for Rex to push himself up from where he was kneeling. Talia’s eyes opened.

“I’m fine,” Talia reassured quickly, but Rex was still frozen, searching her face. She pressed a hand to his cheek, “Really, I’m ok. I just didn’t think about them.”

“I didn’t either,” Rex explained, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Talia leaned in to peck his lips, then checked, “Are you ok? We can stop if you want.”

Rex shook his head, “I’ll only stop if you want me to.”

“Please don’t,” Talia said quickly, earning a smirk from Rex for how desperate she sounded. His fingers toyed along the waistline of her pants where they rested on her thighs.

“Someone’s needy,” Rex teased lowly, his voice thick as honey, slowly pulling at her pants. “Tell me what you want.”

Talia leaned back resting her elbows on the desk, offering up a sweet look, “I think you know what I want. And I think you want to do it.”

Rex offered a low noise of agreement, but taunted, “That some Jedi instinct?”

He slowly pulled the pants down a little further. Talia wiggled her hips, trying to shrug them off, but his hand held her firmly in place. She let out a frustrated noise, but Rex just smirked.

“Use your words, princess,” Rex ordered lowly. Talia’s cheeks burned, and she felt the pit of desire grow in her gut. She was half tempted to curse him for teasing her, and for how well he knew to play her. But she didn’t want to drag this out, they didn’t have time for a back and forth.

“Please,” Talia started sweetly, only to get slightly desperate as she ordered, “I want your mouth on me.”

“Hmm, I could ask you to be more specific,” Rex murmured, to which Talia made an indignant noise when he smirked, tugging her to the edge of the desk, making her squeak and falling to his knees. “...But I’m not patient enough today.”

Rex tugged her pants and underwear down with one swoop, wasting no time to press his face between her legs, his tongue swiping over her slit. He groaned at the wetness already there, and Talia moaned as his tongue flicked over her swollen clit. One hand held to the edge of the desk, the other leaping to the back of his head. It took everything in her to not hold him still as she ground against his face; she knew he wouldn’t have minded. But Rex licked at her like a man possessed, like she was the best thing he ever tasted. His hands held her firmly against him, grasping at the top of her thighs as he positioned her where he wanted her. He may have been the one on his knees, but he was the one in control.

It was surely a talent of Rex’s to have barely started but to already have Talia a whimpering mess. Her tunic was still half undone, her chest still half exposed as a red flush settled over her pale skin. She was biting her lip, trying to restrain her noises in some way but she would fail as Rexs tongue flicked over her clit, eliciting louder moans from her. And all he would do was grin up at her, his eyes almost taunting, before he continued his work.

His grip was tight around her thighs, nails practically digging into her skin as he held her in place. His tongue slid up and down her slit, teasing her by flicking at her clit in between each swipe. Her breaths hitched higher each time, her body reacting so easily to the simplest touch. Rex knew how to set her off, and there were few things he loved more than making her fall apart with just his mouth. He could feel every twitch of her thighs in his hands, hear how she failed to keep herself quiet, and taste just how aroused she was. He wanted her to feel good, wanted to feel her let go, and he worked as if he had something to prove, that he needed to remind her that only he could make her feel this way.

He circled his tongue around her clit, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure up Talia’s spine. The wet heat of his mouth was intoxicating, Talia could hear herself begging him not to stop. Her arms shook so much she struggled to hold herself upright. But her gaze was locked on Rex’s face and how he devoured her. She couldn’t look away, even as tears sprung in the corners of her eyes and her whole body trembled. It was impossible to tear her gaze away, she was fixated even as she was falling apart. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she was coming undone, but she couldn’t help the way her body was lit aflame from every swipe of Rex’s tongue. He was precise, practiced, as dedicated to bringing Talia pleasure as he was in every other aspect of his life. He didn’t let up as her breath quickened, as her body tensed and he didn’t stop even as she cried out his name and quaked, coming from just the quick work of his mouth.

Talia’s moans faded, but her breath was still heavy as Rex rose from the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He leaned in and kissed her, pulling her off the desk as he did. Talia’s legs were like jelly as she stumbled with Rex to the bed. Her knees hit the frame of the bed and Rex gently nudged her back, causing her to land with a soft flop against the mattress.

“Take your clothes off,” Rex ordered gruffly, his own hands tearing at the strips holding his remaining armor on. Talia pressed herself up on the bed, still breathless and flushed, but not moving quickly enough for Rex’s liking as he glanced over her, his heaving chest bulging through his undersuit. “Take them off before I rip them off of you.”

“You would just be finishing what you started,” Talia quipped as she gestured to the state of her tunic, still loose around her torso. Rex’s eyes flashed as she still played with the edges of fabric. He stalked to the bed, slowly taking his shirt off; Talia’s mouth went dry as she glanced over his chest, taking in the scarred and muscled form. He lowered himself to the bed, and slowly crawled on top of Talia. Her heart pounded in her chest as his hands ran up her sides and found the edge of her robes. Talia cocked an eyebrow in a challenge as his eyes met hers. Rex rolled Talia over roughly so she was on her stomach, and her hands braced herself against the mattress as Rex’s hands at the top of her tunic’s back and tugged. With a shredding rip, the fabric pulled off her back and slipped off her arms, leaving Talia in just her bra. She half expected Rex to tug that off as well, but instead his lips met the back of her neck, kissing her softly as his hands deftly undid the clasp. Talia sighed as his lips traveled down her skin, the stubble on his face tickling her.

For a moment Talia thought Rex would take her like this, that he would shuck his pants off and roughly enter her from behind, pounding her into the mattress as she sheets muffled her cries. And she wouldn’t have minded; her body was coursing with need, prickling with the desire of his touch. But Rex instead gently flipped her over, opposite of the man who had moments ago torn her clothing to shreds. Rex’s lips met hers as soon as her back hit the mattress, a soft, exploring kiss, the moment slowed once again, as if savoring the moment before they delved back into their pure need. But this was what Talia loved about him, how there could be both sides when they were together. The tender with the tough, the smooth against the rough. She could see the switch flip in his eyes whenever they made love, see how his own desire kicked in. But he was always there for her, reading what she wanted and adjusting off her energy.

The kiss deepened, grew more hungry as they pressed against each other; Rex’s body pining Talia down as she squirmed beneath him, trying to angle her hips so she could relieve some of the tension settling back in her core. Rex ground against her, his still clothed, hard cock pressing against her pussy. Rex groaned into her mouth as he felt how wet she still was, dampening the fabric of his pants. Talia’s hands ran up and down his back, feeling the way Rex’s muscles flexed as he moved against her. Her hands slid down to his waistline, as she tried to nudge down his pants. Rex’s hands met hers as he helped pull them off, rushing to remove them so he could finally have her again. Once they were off, he pressed down against her again, the flame reignited as their naked bodies pressed together, already sweaty and burning with want. Rex’s cock pressed against Talia’s stomach, weeping with precum as he rutted against her, their tongues meeting as they moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Rex,” Talia whimpered between breaths, “Please. I need you.”

He pulled back slightly as he readjusted, a thin line of spit connecting their mouths. Rex was panting, his eyes blown out as he looked down at her. But he spoke with such an assured, put togetherness as he said in his rough voice, “Anything for you.”

Rex entered Talia quickly and forcefully, her breath hitching and her legs spreading wider to ease his access. Rex waited until her body relaxed and her eyes opened, then Talia nodded her head and Rex began to thrust. His hips slammed against hers, his cock thick and hot as it stretched her cunt, her walls gripping around him and practically pulling him in. Rex’s eyes rolled back from the warmth of her, ready to be lost and never come back but he had to last longer, he didn’t want this feeling to end.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, squeezing her against him in a near crushing grip. Her nails were marking his back as she whimpered beneath him, her breaths punctuating every move of his hips into hers. The room was filled with the loud smack of flesh on flesh, the squelch of their bodies meeting, and the moans and grunts leaving their lips in near unison.

This wasn’t the way this should have gone, it was rushed and needy, with no time taken to care about the little details. They were still dirty from the mission, but the time taken to tidy up might have raised more uncertainty between them than either could stomach just yet. But yet this rushed state was perfection, pure desire coursing through and guiding them, an unstoppable force pushing them together.

Talia cried out as Rex’s cock hit a spot deep inside her, making her head bend back in ecstasy. Rex did it again, wanting to see the way her face contorted in pleasure.

“It feels good, doesn't it?” Rex said, continuing to thrust.

“Yes!” Talia quickly responded, her cheeks flushed. “So good.”

“Who’s doing this to you?” Rex asked, a cocky possessiveness creeping in his tone.

“You are.” Talia gasped, her eyes meeting his. Rex’s hold around her loosened, and before Talia could whine from the change of pace, Rex’s hand gripped under her thigh and pulled her leg up to rest on his shoulder, his other arm still wrapped around her. His dedicated pace resumed, each thrust like a promise, punctuated with gasps, moans and words escaping lips like a prayer.

“Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” The possessive side of Rex was coming out stronger, as if he had something to prove, or that he needed to hear Talia’s response as much as he knew what it was.

“You are!” Talia answered. She swallowed, her breath heavy as pleasure crested within her. “I’m yours, only yours.”

“That’s right, you’re mine.” Rex echoed, firm and unyielding. He pounded into her harder, a renewed surge of need running through him. “Mine.”

Rex’s pace continued, hitting Talia right where she needed him. Each thrust was a jolt of pleasure that licked up her gut, so deep she could practically feel him in her throat. She was twisted around him, and he was all encompassing. Their skin was dewed with sweat, their chests almost clinging together as they pressed into one another. Talia would give him anything in this moment, ready to sacrifice all of her as long as he brought her that sweet release.

“Fuck Rex, don’t stop please.” She begged, cheeks burning and eyes watering. “ I love you.”

“Say it again.” Rex ordered, his pace unfaltering and his chin set, gritting his teeth as if he was barely holding himself together.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you!”

Tallia cried out as she came, her breath ragged and her body tensing as Rex lost what last bit of self control he had and he released inside her, hot spurts of cum filling her cunt. Rex’s thrusts slowed, exhaling as he hilted himself inside her. Their foreheads met, sweaty brows and panting breath meeting as their lips barely touched. After a moment that they wanted to last a lifetime, Rex pulled out of Talia and fell to the side, their bodies squeezed next to another in the tiny bed. The space was as small as they were used to sharing, but somehow there was a rightness in the way their bodies fit next to each other, even after all this time.

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Talia asked, still breathless. The air shifted, the calmness that had settled between them now filled with the unknown. Rex tensed, and exhaled a large breath.

“I don’t see how it can,” was all Rex could think to say. A lump formed in Talia’s throat, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes as she nodded. She rolled over to her side, already pulling off the covers to slip out of the bed and pull her clothes on. Rex’s hand gripped her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Wait, I don’t want-”

“What do you want, Rex?” Talia snapped, “I can’t do this again. I can’t let myself think there’s a chance for something just for you to change your mind. I’m not strong enough to hurt like that again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Rex repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He meant it, but he knew he had failed that promise in the past. And he didn’t want to mess this up again, to cause her any pain, but he didn’t know what promises he could offer her. Rex sat up, still holding Talia’s arm as he tried to work through this.. “I…I know that things haven’t changed in our situation, but I also know ending things was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. I want you, Talia.”

“I want you too,” Talia sighed, leaning back against the headboard. They sat in silence, stuck in the same moment as a million thoughts rushed through their heads. Talia knew there was only one answer to this, at least only one that had a chance to make them happy.

“What if I left the Order?”

Rex shook his head, “it was wrong of me to ever ask that of you, it’s not fair-”

“You’re not asking it of me - I’m suggesting it. Rex.” Talia said softly. She looked down at her hands, wringing her scarred wrists as she worked to the realization that has been hidden from her for so long. “I’m not happy. This war has taken so much from me. The Jedi were the only thing I knew, and the only possibility I saw for a future. But Rex…I know so much more now. I know you, that you’re what makes me happy. I can’t lose that again.”

“But you could have so much more than me.” Rex insisted. His hand rested on her face making her meet his eyes so he could make sure she wouldn’t lie to him just to make him happy. “ You could be a Master Jedi, could go on to do great things.”

Talia silenced him by leaning in to kiss him, she pulled back and didn’t let her gaze falter. “Rex - you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me - there’s no more that I need.”

“But still-”

“Being a Master was never in my cards.” Talia cut him off before he could go on about plans for a different future for her. “ I had a vision about it once, but I think I understand it now. I was always on the outside looking in, never quite fitting in with the rest of the order, or what the council expected of me. But I can find my own path without them. When the war ends, I’ll leave the order. And I’ll be yours, if you’ll have me.”

“You’ll always have me.”Rex answered quickly, a firm promise. “But, what about now? Our situation hasn’t changed.”

“Now is…more complicated. We need to be more careful than before. So. Not really together but…” Talia’s voice trailed off, still not sure what guidelines they could set. Because it was too complicated. She wanted Rex with everything in her, but she couldn’t abandon her men and leave while the war still raged on. And being with Rex while she was still in the Order was too risky now, they’d had too many slip ups already, too many chances that they would be exposed. “Now just…Just hold me, for a few minutes more and we can pretend like everything is okay.”

“We’re not pretending.” Rex said as he pulled her into her arms. His lips brushed against her forehead, lingering there as he continued. “It’s not perfect, but it’s something. I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready to leave. I know it’s a big thing.”

“It is, but I think it’s the right thing,” Talia answered. They settled back lower into the bed, a strange kind of peace laying between them. “This mess has to be over soon, so now we have something to look forward to once it’s done.”

“What do you want to do first?” Rex asked tentatively, allowing himself to think of an ‘after’ the war for the first time in a way that wasn’t dimmed by darkness.

Talia hummed thoughtfully, her lips pursing in before a grin curved on her lips. She glanced up at Rex, a twinkle in her eye as she said, “We should go back to the island.”

Rex huffed out a light laugh, “Better prepared and without the crash landing this time, I hope?”

“Duh,” Talia mocked. She wrapped an arm over his chest, her fingers tracing along the edges of his scars like she had done that first time on the very beach they were talking about. “It’s where we began, it’s where we can start again.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Rex mused, a lazy half smile on his lips, “How about we meet there, once it’s all over.”

“Sounds like a plan, captain.” Talia pressed her lips to his again. “Or a promise.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” Rex murmured, his hand cupped on the side of Talia’s face.

Talia thought her cheeks would ache from smiling, that they were burning from the blush that lingered on them. “You might have mentioned it sometime.”

“Not enough, I daresay,” Rex offered with a sly grin. He leaned closer to her, the coarse hairs of his scruff grazing along her neck in a way that sent shivers down her spine even in her exhausted state. He pressed a kiss in the curve of her neck, trailing up to her ear where he whispered once more, “You’re beautiful.”

“I love you so much,” Talia sighed.

Rex huffed a low chuckle. “So that’s all it took? Me calling you beautiful?”

“It’s a fair trade, I think,” Talia teased, lightly smacking his arm. But she set her face straight as she met his eyes again. “I mean it. I love you, Rex.”

“I love you too.”

He leaned down to kiss the spot just below her ear, repeating his words once more. He trailed his kisses, followed by his adorations up her neck, to her jaw bone, as if tattooing the words upon her skin to leave his mark evermore. His lips traced to the end of her scar, pausing when Talia slightly flinched from the contact against the slightly sensitive skin. His eyes scanned hers, waiting for Talia’s nod that it was ok, and he leaned in, tenderly kissing over the raised skin, “I love you, Talia.”

Talia sighed, a warmth of contentment filling her she hadn’t been sure she would ever feel again. She curled against him, feeling the warmth of Rex’s skin beneath hers, listening to the thud of his heartbeat. Her lips grazed the scar in the center of his chest, from the bolt that just missed his heart all those years ago. They laid together under that rough spun blanket, in the far too small cot, their arms wrapped around each other, their skin clinging to each other as they didn’t want to leave the others grasp. They fought off sleep, savoring the small moment they had with one another. It had been so long without the other's touch, but that absence only created a craving, a burning desire for the other’s comfort that would never be satisfied. They didn’t have the answers, not completely anyway. This simple impassé would be enough to hold over, to bridge the road to repair what they’d had before. There was the promise of something stronger, the unknown path of destiny and fate a sweet calling. What further doubts they had were buried beneath the surface, vanquished at the broken walls of their greatest barrier. As she drifted off, Rex’s hand brushed over Talia’s back, fingers grazing over the scars she received at the hand of the Zygerrians. The soothing action propelled her into sleep, no nightmares to be had tonight. Her dreams were filled with contentment and comfort, something the promise of a future with Rex held.

Next Chapter

taglist (dm/comment/fill out the form in my bio if you want to be tagged in future chapters!):

@djarrex @justanothersadperson93 @paige6768 @saltywintersoldat @clonecyaree @dinner-djarin @whore4rex@swlover2187 @collectoroffics @pinkiemme @twistedstitcher27 @frietiemeloen @a-c-lee @ashotofspotchka @galacticgraffiti @itsagrimm @rexandechosandwich @immortalhdx @queenopresskenobi @stankferrik @aquaamethyst96 @mavendeb @alwayssnivellus @rain-on-kamino @staryskyforever @amyroswell @lucyysthings @manqoz @ilikemymendarkandfictional @punkpirate82 @paperplanes221 @saturnsokas @starstofillmydream @wild-karrde @purgetrooperfox @sleepingsun501 @burningfieldof-clover @seriowan @samspenandsword @sunshinesdaydream @ariadnes-red-thread @babygirlrex0504 @arctrooper69

#captain rex #captain rex x oc #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #star wars #captain rex fanfiction #illicit affairs fanfic #ia fanfic #oc fanfiction #original female character #star wars oc #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #captain rex x ofc

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cottoncandy-cult · 1 year

Text

Exchange Program

Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

"Alright team 7, listen up." Kakashi had gathered the attention of Sakura, Naruto and Sai. Yamato was standing behind a girl with (h/c) hair, she wore a hidden mist headband. "In an attempt to strengthen our bonds with the hidden leaf we are doing an exchange program, meaning some of our ninja will be living in the hidden mist for the next few months." Yamato had droned on, going over how the program worked in too much detail. Thankfully Kakashi cut him off. "Anyways this is (Y/n), as you can see, she is from the hidden mist." The young woman wore a (F/c) kimono top with (2F/c) trim and tight ninja shorts, strapped to her side was a katana. Her (H/l) hair was neatly styled, her head band worn proudly around her waist. On the back of her top was a clan symbol, one that had Kakashi chuckling.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, lady Tsunade told me you'd be joining us." This had been Sakura; she had helped review profiles when selecting people to participate in the exchange. "That's cool, I can't wait to see you in action." This of course was Naruto, the bright smile he gave her made the cute girl smile slightly in return. "Thank you, I'll make sure I don't drag the team down." She bowed to the group, making everyone chuckle. "We have faith in your skills (Y/n), in fact why don't you demonstrate your skills with some light sparring?" This had been Kakashi's recommendation, his hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a bright smile, nodding her head.

"Alright, who should I spar with then Sensei?" Her head tilted cutely, nobody but Sai missed the blonde team member's blush. Though they all stayed quiet, making eye contact before giving subtle nods. "Naruto will be your partner." This made the male recoil, how could he hit the polite girl. She was kinda cute after all. "Are you sure Kakashi-sensei!? I don't want to hurt her!" That made the girl start laughing, Naruto simply giving her a confused look. "It's ok Naruto, I'll be fine I promise." (Y/n)'s voice was reassuring, making Naruto give in with a head nod. "Alright, but I'm not gonna hold back!" This made the mist kunoichi smile, nodding her head. Thankfully they were already in the training grounds, so all they had to do was stretch and get into position.

After battle (cause I'm not good at fight scenes.)

Naruto panted as he laid flat on his back, straddling him was none other than (Y/n). An iron grip held his wrists down, throughout the fight she had used taijutsu alone. A part of him was embarrassed, he had never been so physically dominated by anyone. Let alone a woman. He had landed maybe 3 hits; the young woman was barely breathing any quicker. Meanwhile Naruto was sore and hungry, but he was also amazed. She was a true kunoichi, strong in body and heart. Something about her soothed the sting of loss, even though he was physically disabled thanks to her overall strength. "Alright you two match is over, (Y/n) wins." Sakura had stepped in, helping (Y/n) and Naruto up.

"I hope I wasn't too rough, let me buy you lunch to make up for it." She turned to Naruto, giving him a sweet smile. The blonde was quick to smile back, scratching the back of his head as he placed one hand on his hip. "Sure, sounds like fun, if we are gonna be on a team, we gotta get to know each other." This had the others chuckling, all but Sai. The poor boy was still pretty awkward, so all he could do is look at them with confusion. Worrying that he may have to speak to Tsunade about a mandatory psych evaluation. "Since (Y/n) is still getting settled you can go ahead and give her a tour of the village as well."

This was Kakashi, even he could see the signs and being so heavy into his "romance novels" he wasn't going to miss the chance to help one of his students take some of his first steps into manhood. "Good idea Kakashi-Sensei, I know the village like the back of my hand." Naruto chuckled, standing beside (Y/n) and giving his friends such a pure look. Yamato stepped forward, drawing everyone's attention. "Well while you two do that I think Sai and I need to do some personalized training; I think everyone else has some stuff they need to do." He gazed over to Sakura and Kakashi, the two nodding in sync. "Alright if you guys say so, we'll catch up to you later." With that Naruto and (Y/n) parted ways with the group, the streets were a bit packed so he took the girl's hand with a smile.

“Heh, sorry it's a busy. I'd hate to get separated and you get lost your first day." His smile had the young woman's cheeks a light red, but she was quick to return it. "So, Naruto, why did you want to become a ninja?" She spoke from his side, their hands intertwined as they weaved through people on their way to Ichiraku's. "Well (Y/n) I want to be hokage one day, I'm gonna be the strongest." His smile had been so pure, his tone of voice so matter of fact. (Y/n) couldn't help but believe him, she had faith that he could reach his goal. "Heh that sounds cool, I just want to help bring peace to the village... We've only recently been able to pull away from the old ways, things are a bit chaotic. So, I want to help bring the village into an era of peace, it's nothing special but it's my goal."

Naruto turned to her with a smile as they got inside the ramen shop, gently letting go of her hand. She felt a little sad he let go, his hands were so gentle. "Well, I think it's an awesome goal, it's really selfless and I can understand why you'd want to achieve it. I'll help you whenever you need it, you just gotta have my back too." This brought a grin to (Y/n)'s face, she was nervous when she first got there. There was a lot of pressure on the ninja of the hidden mist, so to have someone believe in her and her dreams meant a lot. Even if he was a new friend, he was still a friend. "Sure, thank you Naruto. Now how about we eat, I'm starved." Naruto cheered, leading her over to some stools and telling her about all the different foods.

Neither noticed the 3 heads of hair poking out of a bush behind them; Kakashi, Sakura and Yamato were all watching the two. That was until Sai stepped in front of them, squatting down to be at eye level. "Sensei I've been looking for you, I've been waiting at the training grounds for a while now."

#naruto #naruto uzumaki #naruto x reader #puppy love #fem reader #x reader #super strong fem reader #naruto shippuden #poor sai #candy cult vault

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drownedinlavender · 1 year

Text

Helloooo, so I'm writing a long kyman fic. It's gonna be a slow burn multi-chapter one. I got like a good 1/3 of it down with like a skeleton of events mapped out. Since I haven't been active in any fandom or like written fanfic since I was a teen, I wanted to post an excerpt to kinda test the waters a bit haha I'm kinda shy about sharing stuff but was greatly inspired by a lot of people's work.

Anyway, the premise is Cartman impulsively taking the fall on something and being admitted to inpatient cause of it. This excerpt is when he facetimes the gang to tell them about it. Stan and Kenny are at school during lunch, Kyle's at the hospital (has to do with what Cartman took the blame for), and Eric's at home about to leave.

I'd greatly appreciate any criticism or input! Thank u for ur time 💜💖 ^^)/

"Dude, a psych ward? That sounds pretty serious," Stan looks mildly concerned.

"It is serious, Stan. That's why Kyle's gonna owe me big time when I get back," Eric smuggly declares, "Like sucking my balls big big time."

Kenny sneakers at the brunette still obsessing over a bet they made years ago when they were just kids.

"Man, you gotta lay off the balls thing, Cartman. That's hella gay," Stan drily informs while munching on a fry.

"Hey! It's not gay! It's about humiliation and having power over an individual," Eric offendedly denies, choosing to die on that hill.

Kyle, who has been absolutely seething in the background, finally bursts, "Fuck you, Cartman! I didn't ask you to cover for me, you did that all on your own!"

Eric scoffs, "Okay, fine, Kahl, would you prefer me going to PC principal and telling him I take it all back. That he should take you off the team like he wanted? Is that what you want, Kahl?"

Kyle tenses his jaw muscles as he grinds his teeth. Of course that's not what he wants but is Cartman holding one over his head any better? His eyes flicker to the side as he contemplates for a brief moment. Stan continues eating, staring at his screen waiting for his best friend to speak as if he's watching an enthralling reality tv show. Once Kenny's giggling fit finally subsides, he lays his head on one outstretched arm and sneaks a French fry from whoever's lunch tray is right across from him.

"Fine," Kyle bitterly concedes with a sigh, "but I'm not helping you do anything illegal like murder or whatever. And I'm definitely not sucking your balls," he points at Cartman through the screen.

"Oh…" a small voice utters in surprise across the room from Kyle. The redhead looks up at a shocked nurse half way through the door. "I-I'll come back in a second to check your vitals," she embarrassedly scurries out of the room.

Kyle's mortified face soon matches his hair. "God, damn it, Cartman!"

Kenny practically dies of laughter, not even bothering to hold his phone up right anymore.

"Dude," Stan snorts before cracking up as well.

Kyle hides his face with one hand, trying with every fiber of his being to maintain any ounce of composure he can muster before combusting from rage.

Eric's amused smile warps into a shit eating grin, he absolutely could not be any more delighted by the current turn of events. He obnoxiously clears his throat before continuing, "Very well, I'll leave a legally binding contract in your room before departing, Kahl. Now Kenny," he seamlessly changes the topic.

Kenny straightens himself out the best he can. "Uh-huh?" He responds through tears.

"Wait a second, fatass, do NOT break into my room!" Kyle protests.

Eric purposely ignores his rival, knowing it'll anger him further. "Kenny, my mom says you can use your spare key to clear out my fridge whenever. She's gonna stay up in Denver with some cousin until I'm out. We don't want the food rotting up and stinking up the place so do it sooner rather than later, got it?"

"Seriously, dude?!" Kenny immediately straightens himself out in elated surprise. Woohoo!" He cheers. He knows their fridge is always packed so he and his little sister are definitely set for bit.

"Knock yourself out, dude, just don't let anything rot in there. Seriously, I'll kick your ass if I come back and my house reeks like spoiled ass."

"You got it, bro," Kenny assures with a thumbs up.

"Don't ignore me, asshole!" Kyle's demands only serve to further Cartman's amusement.

"Welp, gotta go pack up some essentials. Don't know how long I'll have to be admitted … but it's all worth it for my dear friend Kahl's sake," Eric fakes sincerity. With a hand over his heart, he winks at Kyle.

"Oh, Fuck off," Kyle rolls his eyes.

"Well, good luck, dude. Don't blow up the place trying to escape," Stan waves goodbye from his screen.

"Guys, wanna say bye to Cartman? He's gonna go do some time at a loony bin," Kenny asks, reversing his camera to show the rest of their lunch table.

"We heard. You guys are super loud," Craig complains before biting his burger.

"Hey! Don't call it a loony bin, asswipe! That's totally insensitive to people with mental health issues. Not cool dude," Cartman condescendingly lectures, doing what he does best, playing the victim.

"Cartman's getting admitted? Dude, that's crazy!" Tweek comments.

"Wait, who's getting what now?" Clyde looks up from his phone, unaware of the conversation going on around him.

"Cartman, dude, he got in trouble again so PC principal's sending him to a psych ward," Tweek rapidly explains.

"Oh," Clyde responds in his usual nasally tone.

"All in order to save Kyle from getting kicked off the team," Cartman adds.

"Don't act like you did it from the kindness of your heart, fatass!" Kyle quickly corrects.

"First it's Cartman, then they'll be coming for the rest of us!" The jittery blond panics.

Craig pats his boyfriend's shoulder. "No they won't, honey, we don't cause the town to blow up every other month like they do."

"Hey!" Kyle indignantly exclaims.

"We haven't been directly responsible for the town's destruction for like," Stan counts the time in his head, "at least a year now!" He defends himself and his friends, receiving a middle finger from an unimpressed Craig.

"L-l-later, Eric, don't dr-dro-dr-dro-drop the soap," Jimmy jokes before offering up his signature smile.

"Jim, that's for jail," Tolkien corrects.

"Aw, we'll miss you, Eric! Don't take too long in the psych ward!" Butters gleefully shouts.

Kyle rolls his eyes, feeling himself getting more and more irritated by the situation at hand. "Oh, for Pete's sake, it's not like he's dying, you guys." The longer these farewells are dragging on, the more he can feel a twinge of guilt spreading throughout his subconscious and twisting up his guts.

"Poopsikins, mommy can't find Mr. Kitty's carrier, do you remember where we left it?" Liane can be heard calling from the background.

"Just a second, meeem!" Eric hollers off camera before getting back in frame and sticking out his tongue with a peace sign, "Later, losers ~ " he sings-songs and hangs up.

"You know …. For someone being sent off to an insane asylum, he seems really unbothered by it," Tolkien points out.

Kyle's eyes flicker down for just a second before choosing to quickly dismiss further analyzing Cartman's reaction to being sent away. "Well, yeah, it's Cartman. Do you really expect him to react normally about anything?"

"That's true," Tolkien immediately agrees, chalking it up to Cartman just being Cartman.

For a brief moment, Kyle remembers the time he was admitted when the town wouldn't believe him about Mr. Hankey but before he can even decide on entertaining that thought, Stan speaks.

"Wow … so he's really leaving, huh?" Stan says more than asks, looking a bit absent minded.

"I guess so," Kenny pensively looks down at the lunch table, head resting on crossed arms. He turns to Stan and forlornly admits, "dude … I'm actually feeling kinda bummed out."

Kyle bites the inside of his cheek. The reality of their current predicament further sinking in.

"Aw, Ken," Stan frowns and pats Kenny's shoulder.

"It's okay, Ken," Butters comforts, patting Kenny's back, "he said so himself, he probably won't be there for long."

"Isn't this a good thing though? Things are going to be a lot more peaceful while he's gone," Tolkien suggests.

"If Cartman gets admitted for the rest of the school year, I'll be sooooo happy," Craig chants in a monotone.

A sniffle directs everyone's focus towards Clyde.

"Clyde, you okay, buddy?" Craig puts down his lunch to fully focus on his friend's concerns.

"We *sniff* were starting to *sniff* get along more *sniff* this year," he powers through a closing throat.

Kyle bites his cheek even harder. Cartman was certainly a lot tamer as of late. Things were finally getting comfortable between the two of them, too.

"He was being a lot c-coo-c-coo-cooler this y-year," Jimmy admits.

The nurse knocks before entering Kyle's room this time. "I'm going to take your vitals again, okay?" She smiles.

"Yeah, sure," Kyle replies before addressing his friends, "I gotta go guys. Stan, can you come pick up my keys and move my car before my parents get back? I have a minor concussion so I'm under observation for a bit."

"Yeah, dude, totally," Stan confirms.

"Later," Kenny mumbles, waving with one hand, his face fully immersed in his crossed arms.

"Alright, thanks, see you guys later," Kyle says his goodbyes, queuing the nurse to begin taking his blood pressure.

Kyle barely moves, too busy contemplating Eric's departure. First, Stan moves and now Cartman's going to be gone for God knows how long? He bitterly sighs.

#kyman #kyman fanfic #kyman fanfiction #eric x kyle #eric cartman x kyle broflovski #cartyle #south park kyman #drownedinthekiddiepool

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piandaoist · 6 months

Text

Sometimes, I get stuck on Iroh's siege. Like, it spins in my head like a microwave plate. Weird, I know. After all these years, why am I still thinking about this bullshit siege?

I just… The walls of Ba Sing Se are made of stone, and they're in a kingdom filled with people who bend stone and dirt. It seems like the least viable option would be to attack these massive walls that your enemy's children can bend at you. Yet the Fire Nation kept "hammering away" at the Outer Wall as Azula put it. We can tie this nonsense 'strategy' into things like stupidity, hubris, greed, ambition, ego, the Fire Nation's unwavering belief in its own Exceptionalism despite all evidence to the contrary… And, let's be honest, there are a lot of real-life examples of people who are, frankly, just doing all kinds of stupid things for reasons rational people wouldn't understand. Personal reasons we aren't privy to, for example. Coercion and mental instability can also play a factor. Then there is the fact that some people truly believe they're smarter than the rest of us. But I don't want to speculate about the motives of every Fire Nation knob who tried to take down Ba Sing Se's Outer Wall because 'It seemed like a good idea at the time.'

For what it's worth, Iroh's motivations are both clear and uninteresting. He said he had a 'vision' of conquering Ba Sing Se. Which is…whatever. (Imagine you're the top general and you make all of your decisions based on Destiny.) I would have preferred canon give us something more interesting than 'destiny', but here we are. Who are we to dispute this claim from a guy who can see into the Spirit World? Not to mention, 'destiny' is one of ATLA's core themes. Personally, I always found it suspect how 'destiny' always seemed to line-up with ambition. It was Iroh's destiny to conquer/liberate Ba Sing Se (to further an agenda). It was Zuko's destiny to become Firelord (even if that meant he had to take down his own sister). Is destiny really on their side, or is it just bullshit Iroh was making up as he went along? Another discussion, another time, I suppose.

I'm more interested in the siege itself. How did Iroh ever get through the Outer Wall which, again, is made of easily-bendable earth? This next part is all speculation. No idea if any of this is covered in supplemental materials because I haven't been keeping up. But I needed to develop this for a story I'm not writing, so I have thoughts…

I think Iroh's siege was always meant to fail, just not in the way it happened. It was a trap. The planning went something like this…

A siege takes a lot of preparation--months, even years of planning. Logistically speaking, it requires moving around a lot of resources to get the resources and manpower ready for a huge push. There are a lot of moving parts. EK spies would have noticed things like resource reallocation, uncharacteristic troop movements, shipments of wood and other materials for the building of siege forts, a lot of weapons and artillery being moved to a specific location, maybe they'd gotten some inside intel… It's a bit of an undertaking to keep something like that a secret.

There's a good chance Iroh didn't know about the Dai Li presence in Ba Sing Se. Maybe he had an idea of some secret police in Ba Sing Se from some intel received decades earlier from some infiltration team, but he had no idea of their scope or reach. It's pretty clear they call the shots, not General How. How gets his walking orders from the head of the Dai Li, probably Long Feng. So, what happened? And why?

In the Five General's War Room, in Ba Sing Se, How confirms the intel that the Dragon of the West is going for the wall. A smart-ass makes a comment about how they should let Iroh's forces knock down parts of the wall and then they raise it like "Psych" until he gets tired and retreats. ;)

How looks at the general who always thinks he's the funniest guy in the room and says "Here's what we're gonna do. You're not gonna like it. We need you to take one for the team…"

A siege is probably one of the worst types of warfare. They often drag on for weeks, months, years… Resources are depleted and, if the enemy cuts your supply chain, you're looking at starvation and the rapid spread of disease as well as a shortfall of more men, weapons, ammo, and other materials. It's bad for morale because time erodes the men's resolve and frays their nerves. Iroh probably knows this but, you know, it's his destiny. Whatever. EK generals would know this, too; they're counting on it.

After six hundred days, due to various unpleasant circumstances, Iroh's army drops to an acceptable number of tired and broken men--a number the Dai Li is prepared to fight. Also, the Dai Li had to make it look like they were actually putting up a fight hence the timetable. But now it's time for the wall to come down.

The Fall Guy, General Funnyman, is there with his 'army', ready to surrender, giving Iroh his knife as a show of 'respect' for the unbeatable Dragon of the West. This gives Iroh's ego the boost it needs to convince himself that he can turn the tide in the siege. If, for a brief moment when Iroh's men were dropping like flies he questioned his destiny, that moment has now passed. He's within striking distance of his goal. The Inner Wall is literally within his sights, and an EK general is in his custody…

The remaining EK generals and several Dai Li have infiltrated Iroh's ranks. It isn't like Iroh knows the thousands of men under his command. How could he? And his command is in shambles, anyway. They're just running on desperation and hope at this point and no one is really looking at anyone else. They're all looking ahead, at this massive Inner Wall looming on the horizon, at the far end of a vast expanse of wide-open land.

All How and his handful of earthbenders needs to do is follow the last vestiges of Iroh's army inside the Outer Wall so they can close it behind, trapping Iroh's men between two walls. And those farms that maintain the land that feed the people inside of Ba Sing Se's wall and the structures built into the walls themselves are just crawling with eager earthbenders ready to take their pound of flesh from the Dragon's army. They can't wait to see the look on Iroh's face the moment he realizes it's a trap.

As Iroh is about the give the order to advance forward toward the Inner Wall, he gets word Lu Ten has died. You know the rest.

When Iroh abandons his siege, the commanders who are left realize they cannot take down the wall without him. Maybe some of them have figured out this is probably a trap? Others are doing the math on their losses thinking they just don't have the numbers or resources to mount a another siege on the Inner Wall? Maybe they think attempting to move across this landscape toward the Inner Wall is too great a risk? Some of them just probably want to go home. For whatever reasons, they retreat.

Iroh doesn't conquer Ba Sing Se and the Dai Li don't capture the Dragon of the west. Maybe the Dai Li capture Iroh's men, but they don't know where Iroh is because he just left… All that bloodshed and nobody got what they wanted.

Point is, things never go as planned. Life happens. Best laid plans, blah, blah, blah. Everybody just has to live with it. Everybody took huge risks with that engagement and thousands died and nobody came out ahead.

But at least General Funnyman got out alive. How was never gonna let anything happen to him even if he is super annoying.

Maybe when Iroh realizes how many Dai Li there are in Ba Sing Se, and of what the city is like, he realizes his siege was a trap. Maybe he realizes that Lu Ten's death saved his life.

#iroh #dai li #ba sing se #siege of ba sing se

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cuntyko · 1 year

Text

this movie means quite a lot to me, like they dont make movies like this no more... its so 2000s lol quite actually literally everything.

its like the pg-13 bratz movie

personally I relate to the vegan slut... I can be a bit of a ditz sometimes and im def not intense enough to be the investigative reporter girl... like wewwww girl and im also not a cheerleader type

they got amazing one liners littered through out “slut in truck”

“oh girls peace and love no guys worth fighting over”

“prime time tucker, hasta la vista mother fuckka”

“i only model as a guy who as herpies”

“i used all my moms estrogen pills and now my mom looks like bernie mac”

“it’s not even my date and he still gets me out of my skirt”

“just pretend it’s a whaling ship and go greenpeace on their asses”

“i’m reporting from behind enemy lines a fortress if you will, where the innermost workings of the male psyche reveal themselves like a side under a microscope”

“i’d hit him with my car if he wouldn’t make a body cast a fashion statement”

it’s funny it’s camp it’s a little corny and cringy but i can look past that cause at the end of the day I love when girls team up against a common enemy its just everything…. especially when that enemy is a boy like hello thats how it should work out

#john tucker must die #girlblogger #girl interrupted syndrome #tumblrina #waif #real #film #2000s core #2006 #sophia bush #ashanti #britney snow #arielle kebbel

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aerodaltonimperial · 1 year

Text

(@perhapswhoknowsvamp and I have the best slash worst text threads ever. We realized that Danhausen isn't following Jack on IG today and spiraled.)

Danhausen follows Orange Cassidy. Danhausen follows Hook. Danhausen follows most people on the roster, really.

Danhausen does not follow Jack Perry.

Actually, he used to. Danhausen follows and unfollows Jack once a week, just so Jack gets the notifications. Since he’s bored and couch-bound currently, he’s upgraded to doing it every half hour like clockwork. He sends bitchy messages at 3 AM and then blocks Jack so he can’t reply.

Hope Jungle Jack gets some sleep. Would be a shame if someone STOLE that from him.

Jack, whose phone dings for the third time that morning: “THIS MOTHERFUCKER”

When he’s on the pain meds, he sends more messages. Has Jack checked his brake lines recently? and This picture of you is quite nice and it’s a cockroach wearing a top hat. (Danhausen doodled the hat on the cockroach.) Behind the cockroach is a jungle, and a large bird of prey with red black and white head feathers.

Jack forwards the message to Hook, with the text: WILL YOU PLEASE JUST TELL HIM THAT WE AREN’T DATING AND ALSO THAT WE AREN’T EVEN TAG PARTNERS ANYMORE

Hook replies with sorry the number you have sent this to is no longer in service R.I.P.

Hook sends a follow-up text: the hat does look nice on you.

Jack: “They fucking deserve each other.”

Darby eventually slides into Danhausen’s DMs. dude could you stop he is profoundly unsexy when he is this stressed out.

Danhausen: whatever he is profoundly unsexy ALL THE TIME. You should get one that looks sexy more often, then. Darby obviously has poor taste. Perhaps he should talk to Hook. The two of you could become best friends with your new jungle infatuation.

Darby: Is that what this is about? Hook?

Danhausen blocks Darby.

Jack finds Hook. He hasn’t slept in days. He is mid-mental breakdown. “PLEASE. I can’t even ask him what he wants! He keeps blocking me before I can tell him that you and I are not a thing. Call him, for fuck’s sake.”

Hook: “I don’t got reception.”

Jack: “YOU HAVEN’T EVEN LOOKED AT YOUR PHONE?”

Hook, cupping a hand over his ear: “What? Sorry. You’re breaking up. They must be updating the towers around here. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”

After he walks away, Jack stares. “This fucking guy.”

Darby drops down from the fucking ceiling. Jack has a heart attack.

Darby, unaffected: “Sounds like things aren’t going any better on Team Chips. Man, these guys are dense.”

Jack: “….what??”

Darby rolls his eyes. “I’m on Team Teeth, you’re on Team Chips. What, did you think we were going to be on the same side? Over my dead body.”

Jack: “….I—”

Darby makes a decision. “Actually…” He looks Jack up and down. “Yeah, I take that back. You can be over me any time you’d like. I’d let you top.”

Jack: “...wha—”

Darby: “I’ll call Danhausen the next time he unblocks me and see what I can do. Again. Idiots.” He fucks off down a hallway on a skateboard that seemingly materialized out of thin air.

Jack: “I…I am so tired.”

Danhausen ends up blocking half the roster as they try to get him and Hook back together. By the end, he’s only following a handful: OC (who doesn’t give a shit), MJF (who also doesn’t give a shit but for different reasons), and RJ City (who actually did attempt to get them back together but after he got blocked, he stood crying in Danhausen’s front yard until Danhausen unblocked him. He has not brought it up again).

He also still follows Taz. Taz sent him one message last summer: Sorry. He’s an idiot. He’ll come around.

Taz has not been cursed since he sent the message.

Jack considers checking himself into the psych ward because they’ll take his phone on intake and maybe he’ll be able to sleep. He walks into the lobby and spots an attending nurse wearing a face mask and hovering nearby, shoulders hunched…and arm in a sling.

Jack nearly cries while leaving the building. He just wants to sleep.

Jack, texting Hook: HE FOLLOWED ME TO THE PSYCH WARD.

Darby: sounds hot

Jack: FUCK WRONG NUMBER

Jack, texting Hook: HE FOLLOWED ME TO THE PSYCH WARD.

Hook: sounds hot

Hook: wait, who followed you?

Jack: DANHAUSEN

Hook: Oh…

Jack: OH? THAT’S ALL YOU CAN SAY, OH? NOT, WHY WERE YOU GOING TO A PSYCH WARD IN THE FIRST PLACE, JACK?

Hook: Sorry

Jack: You’re a shit friend.

Hook: yeah

Jack: He was pretending to be a god damn nurse in the lobby.

Hook: a nurse?

Jack: Yes.

Hook: what was he wearing?

Jack: I hate you.

Jack goes to Home Depot. He just wants to sleep. He breaks into one of the outdoor sheds in the parking lot. It’s cold.

There’s no cell reception in the shed.

Jack is happy.

#Do not perceive this #I have not been able to breathe in hours #I am sobbing in my cubicle

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ticklystuff · 7 months

Note

He-he~

My team is Sampo, Kafka, Black Swan and Fu Xuan c:<

ask game is closed!

He-he~?

but hello hehe thanks for sending your team! i'm so excited i get to talk about mr sampo nyehehehe

who’s the most ticklish character

omg i'm putting sampo here bc like just look at his outfit sir why are you dressed like that unless you wanna be tickled?? (and what if he loses even more clothes when a 5 star version comes around hehe we all saw what they did to dan heng) but ya he has the ugliest shrieks whenever he's tickled and no matter the kind of techniques that are used it's always the same obnoxious cackling from him and he begs a lot lmao but he's super hard to pin down and catch but it's so worth it when someone can get their hands on him

who’s the character that most people would assume isn't ticklish, but actually is

kafka because she's so fearless and does not flinch even when tickles are coming her way and keeps that same calm demeanor. if someone tries tickling her, she'll even encourage it and be like "no, no, go ahead, tickle me, i insist. see what happens~" and it makes people second guess whether they should or not bc this woman is a threat like gurl is gonna snap my fingers lol also i mentioned this before but black swan because she does not have a physical body but people can still tickle her in dreams and such! sampo made sure to make use of that when he found out that she's ticklish hehe

who’s the character that everyone gangs up on and tickles

FU XUAN this team is full of good lers and then there's her just standing there rip to the master diviner. like girl is just trying to live her life and do divinations one minute but then the next minute everyone is dogpiling her and she's getting her shit wrecked. sometimes she'll be doing her little divinations and she sees that she's going to get ganged up on later that day and she's like "oh fuck oh fck me time to panik" and she gets super stressed out i feel bad for her lol

who’s the character that somehow knows everyone else’s tickle spots and reveals them to others

oki so black swan would be super good at this because she collects memories so she has memories of people getting tickled in specific spots and she'll reveal them casually like "sampo~ do you dress like that because you like having your little sides tickled?" fu xuan has black swan beat in this category though because black swan can only see where people have been tickled memories, not tickle spots that have yet to be explored. fu xuan can see everything though and it is the one trump card she has over the others lol

who's the character with one specific tickle spot that only one other person knows about

okay i was watching this streamer rank hsr characters and they said sampo has vagina bones and now i can't unsee it so this man and his vagina bones or his crotch i guess are super sensitive and somehow kafka knows about it and she just teases him about his vagina bones in general aksldfjklsa

who’s the most likely to win gang tickle wars

there are so many good candidates for this question. like black swan is probably the right answer for this question because she can manifest those arms WITH POINTY NAILS to come out and not only tickle multiple people but also pin them down. but also kafka and sampo would just be so teasy in their own different ways and they themselves are very good ticklers that don't need to rely on some external force to help them out so like ya maybe black swan is technically the right answer but these two still give her a run for her money y'know? fu xuan is like that one jojo meme where it's like three people beating up one guy together like poor thing just ceases to exist during tickle wars

which character has a kink for tickling

i wanna say kafka i just feel it in my soul i just know she'd give her lee hell because she's good at getting people in their head and maybe the actual tickling isn't so bad but its the way she teases and psyches her lee out the whole time that makes it ninety times worse than it should be

which character didn’t even know they were ticklish until another character tickled them

oh it's absolutely fu xuan and back at the xianzhou, no one would dare to tickle the master diviner, but in this team, kafka is like "i have to thank you for imprisoning me, it was truly a once in a lifetime experience" and she already has her hands all over fu xuan and fu xuan can barely process her words because she has to deal with all the unfamiliar tickly sensations

which two characters have tickle fights all the time

oh sampo absolutely fights kafka and black swan everyday like this man is so brave trying to fight these two menaces in that outfit and he is so dumb because he loses all the time but that moment of shock the two have when he manages to actually tickle them is so worth the wreckings he receives later idk he's such a dumb little guy

#sampo #kafka #fu xuan #black swan #honkai star rail #tickling

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innocentlymacabre · 2 years

Text

Anna, Version One

tw: suicide mention (not acted on), alcohol, OD mention (not acted on)

Before we begin, I should make it clear that this story takes place in the early 1960s, when aeroplane rules were a lot laxer. One could brandish a cigar, or holster a pistol, or even brandish a cigar while holstering a pistol. Now, consider if you will, the thoughts of one James Augustus McCoy, as he goes airborne in a helm of metal, held together by nothing more than nuts and bolts, and is rocketed to well over twenty thousand feet in the sky, at speeds faster than any other passenger vehicle can even attempt. His nightmare treads the razor edge between the possibility that it’s merely James’ psyche feeling especially cruel, or that what he thinks he sees hanging off the edge of the plane is real.

ONE

“Okay men, we have a problem,” Jerry Cramer began, addressing the room of three carefully selected candidates: Phil Digby, Luke Kendrick, and James McCoy. “The Swiss are backing out of the deal. Staying neutral as ever, those tricky bastards.”

“Of course they are,” Digby chimed in. James had never particularly liked him. Kind of a kiss-ass and didn’t do his job particularly well. Digby didn’t know it, but the only reason he was on this little team was because they needed a fall guy if everything went belly-up.

“Goes against who they are or some other crap probably,” Kendrick barked through a cigarette. “Knew it was risky to go into business with them.” James didn’t fall for his gangster façade, but he liked the man. He did his job and was bloody good at it.

“Be that as it may,” Cramer said, regaining control of the room, “we’ve got to get this sorted out. James, I need you on the next flight to Switzerland. Talk to Meyer, get this sorted.”

“Fuck, you got me flying again? Kendrick. Kendrick will go, he’ll get it done. He knows the deal basically as well as I do. I am not getting on a plane again. I went when we started this thing. My flying is done.”

“Said it yourself, James – you started it, we need you to finish it. “Basically as well” isn’t the same as as well. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Just get there.”

“Fuck me,” James sighed. “I’m flying first class and not paying for anything. The company’s paying for the entire trip.”

“Done,” Cramer said looking satisfied with himself.

“Can’t believe I’ve got to go back. Damn Swiss need to learn how to finally pick a side.”

“Hey, hey, it won’t be that bad. Just get on the plane and try to go to sleep. You can’t be scared if you’re not awake,” Anna suggested.

“I don’t know.”

“Look, it’s not as if you’ve got much of a choice anyway. Best to just get it done and over with.”

James snorted but ultimately resigned to his fate.

“Good man. Call me when you land. And hey, remember to pack socks – you always forget to take them and end up with one pair for the entire trip.”

“Oh, good one. Thanks, honey,” James said, breaking away from selecting a shirt to reach for his sock drawer.

“Oh, and take a few cigars from the bar – the good ones – for your meeting. You don’t want to show up to one of these things empty handed. They’ll chew you up and send you packing.”

James nodded, not stopping to question his wife’s advice for a moment. He wasn’t sure what knowledge she drew on when she gave him advice, but she was never wrong. She was also a lot more confident and open than most other women. She spoke her mind and she spoke frankly and didn’t give a damn about who knew. It was one of the best things about her and was what made James fall in love with her all those years ago.

He made a mental note to grab the cigars on his way out and headed into the bathroom to pack his toothbrush. He very well could have used the one in the hotel, but James preferred his own. He took it out of the cabinet and placed it in a small pouch, then cleared the rest of the cabinet out and took a step back. James took a deep breath, then quietly locked the door before turning back to face the cabinet once again.

Another deep breath later, he reached forward and carefully scaled the back of the cabinet, feeling for the loose part of the wood where the back gave away to reveal a small, secret compartment. This was the one thing in his life that Anna didn’t know about. They shared everything else with each other, but this compartment was only his. And it had to be. If Anna knew what he kept in there, all she would do is worry.

James wiped the unconscious sweat starting to form on his temple, then reached for the 9mm. He checked to make sure the safety was on and that it wasn’t loaded, then placed it at the bottom of the pouch along with its clip. He replaced the false back and quickly restocked the cabinet, then sat down on the toilet seat.

He didn’t know why he carried it every time he flew. Maybe it was because he wanted to go out on his own terms. If the plane was going down, he was damned if he was going to let the fire get him – he’d shoot himself and that would be the end of it. But then again, Anna always liked to point out that things are often more complicated than they seem; maybe there was some other reason he took it with him. Either way, the 9mm was James’ constant companion throughout his aerial adventures.

TWO

James walked out onto the tarmac, dragging a suitcase behind him. Donning a bespoke black suit, he did his best to give off his signature don’t-fuck-with-me look, but a million alarms were going off inside his head. He gingerly ascended the steps, pausing at the top and leaned against the frame, taking deep breathes to calm himself down.

An old man in line behind him tapped him on the shoulder, “Scared of flying?”

“Yep.”

“Me too. But my daughter’s getting married, so,” the man replied with a shrug.

“Congratulations,” came James’ warbled reply.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I get it.”

James gave the old man a smile from over his shoulder by way of reply. He took a few more deep breathes to steady himself, then entered the plane. He clambered over to his seat, helpfully in the front, and began furiously strapping himself in, tightening the seat belt as far as it would go. He clung nervously to both armrests, staring out of the window at the men loading the luggage into the cargo hold below.

He wondered what would happen to the poor soul who accidentally wound up stranded in the hold, perhaps adjusting a bag at the back or correcting the fastening on one he noticed on his way out, the others oblivious to his absence. The hold door would shut and he would scream and shout, trying to alert the others to the situation, but no one would hear him over the roar of the plane engines. Then the plane would take off and he would hold on to some strap, some bag, something, for a while, but his arms would eventually grow tired and he would succumb to his fate. He would be tossed around from side to side, smashing into the cargo as he went. When the plane finally lands, they’d find him dead in a pool of his own blood, his body and bones shattered beyond hope of creating even a semblance of the man before.

James shook his head clear; he mustn't think of such things. Especially when there was so much else that could much more easily go wrong. The plane could lose connection with ground control, their frequency could be hijacked, turbulence might toss them abou-

No!

He stopped his thoughts midway once again, turning his attention to the other passengers filing in. James had a habit of making short mental notes of the people he was going to be around for any extended period; it made him feel more secure.

Naturally, first class was mostly solitary Swiss and Britons, most likely travelling for work. James could make out a banker by the way he was reading the business section of the newspaper and a lawyer who was working on the contents of a manilla file labelled HARVEY SAWYER VS KURT WAGNER. Other than that, it was anyone’s guess. There was one couple, but thankfully no child. James absolutely detested crying infants, and more so on planes. Their accents sounded like they were Polish. Oh, Poland – a tragedy if there ever was one. Bet no one saw that coming.

James caught himself drifting to death once again and decided there was nothing more he could do. He drained the small plastic bottle from the seat pocket in front of him and pulled his nightcap down. If things were going to go wrong, he'd rather go in his sleep, instead of having to face the danger head-on. With that in mind, he popped another one of Anna’s sleeping pills in, hoping he wouldn't hit the OD limit, and swallowed it dry.

Ten minutes later he wasn't feeling any sleepier, so he resigned to his fate and reached for the Daily Mirror dutifully placed in front of him. He glanced fleetingly at the date — Thursday, February 16th, 1961 — as if to confirm that he really was having to suffer through this nightmare and read the front page.

Bad move.

The top story read "Eight Hours to Live" and was about the United States ice-skating team. Their plane crashed and exploded, killing all seventy-two passengers and crew. James's stomach tightened at the same time as the rest of his muscles loosened, almost as if they were giving up.

They were just kids, none of them more than twenty years old. Their entire lives ahead of them. But they had been snatched up by the brethren of the very thing he now entrusted his life to.

When his body finally reverted to normal, James got up to go to the bathroom, thinking a cold splash of water would help him. He picked out a small kit from his bag in the overhead compartment and made his way down the aisle.

He walked slowly, each step taken deliberately after due forethought. He was quivering with fright, with half his body poised to jump right back into his seat at a moment’s notice the entire time.

James stood by the sink and gripped the edges with both hands, staring directly at his reflection. His eyes, while usually brown, were now a disorienting shade of red. The shock sent him back a few stumbled paces, knocking him into the toilet. He steadied himself with an outreached arm, leaning on the counter, once again staring at the red-eyed lookalike in front of him. James could see the veins popping out of his forehead, crossing over and under each other, throbbing dangerously hard, feeling like they were about to rip themselves out of his body. He shuddered, suddenly feeling very cold, and wrapped his arms around his body tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the cabin and focus on his own breathing.

He doused his face with water and looked up again. His face seemed back to normal. No more red eyes. He took slow, deep breaths as he stood in the small, closet-like cabin in a contraption held together by nuts and bolts at a lethally scary height, desperately trying to forget the fact.

He opened his kit and pushed the toothbrush to the side, his hand curling around the 9mm. He sat on the toilet and stared at its pure black body gleaming in the drowsy yellow light of the cubicle. It would be so easy to just pull down on the little piece of metal and end this misery. He’d never have to fly again, never have to endure this twisted form of torture again. He quickly shook his head clear of these thoughts though and put it back.

He had performed this routine every time he'd flown, never once going beyond just looking at the gun. Sometimes he wondered why he simply didn't leave it at home if he was never going to use it. For reasons he didn't really know himself though, he always kept it back in.

He had actually made it all the way to the taxi without it once, and as he sat in the car, James breathed a sigh of relief, thinking his fear had finally been washed away. But the moment he could no longer see his house in the rear-view mirror, he told the driver to turn back around and had dashed in to grab it.

The moment James returned to his seat, the seat belt sign lit up, and the captain's voice came crackling through the PA system.

"Passengers, this is your captain speaking. We seem to be experiencing some mild turbulence. Nothing to be afraid of, but I'm going to have to ask you all to return to your seats and strap in, nevertheless.” Then, after a beep, “Cabin crew, please take your positions."

"Nothing to be afraid of..." James muttered under his breath. He'd decide that for himself, thank you very much. And he decided there was something to be afraid of and tightened the seat belt until it was pressing into his stomach, set his seat upright, and pulled up the window shade. His head lolled to the side as he stared unseeingly out of the window, his mind wandering all over the place. The pills seemed to finally be working and James did nothing to stop it — he needed to at least mentally get out of there.

The flash from a jolt of lightning snapped him back to the present. He jerked his head towards the window and froze almost instantly. There was a man hanging onto the wing, clinging for his life.

He swayed up and down and side to side, slamming into the wing over and over again. The man feverishly clawed his way forward, as if he saw the tiny window as some form of solace. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly but James couldn't make out any of the words he was saying.

James frantically called the air hostess over.

"Man... wing... lightning... window."

He had trouble forming full sentences, producing only fragments accompanied by frenzied arm movements. When the air hostess finally came to his side, the only thing there was to see outside the window were a few clouds, lazily drifting along the night sky. The steward looked at him with a mixture of concern and confusion and asked if James wanted anything.

"A gin and tonic,” he decided. “Four parts gin." If drugs didn't cut it, alcohol would have to.

Lightning flashed outside again, and the figure had re-appeared. Only this time it wasn't the same person. He took a closer look at the figure in peril and paled when he realised who he was.

"Anna..."

No. No, it couldn't be. Not his Anna. James inched closer to the window, hoping, praying, pleading it wasn't her. Oh, but it was.

No. No, it wasn't. It was just a figment of his imagination. He wouldn't call for help again. He watched helplessly as she was tossed around like the man before her; he watched with desperation as she too tried to make her way forward. But the winds were not as merciful as last time. They did not allow her to make her way to the window as her predecessor had. James was even ready to break it himself and tug her in. But no. The winds picked her up, bashed her against the body of the plane, and sent her downwards, barrelling towards the ground to grant her a fate much like that of the lost cargo man.

Desperately, James called for the air hostess again but didn't even try to offer an explanation this time. He just sat there, curled up in his seat, clinging to his sides. The air hostess — Claudia, her name was — draped a blanket over him and brought him a warm cup of tea, telling him it would help with the nerves.

Needless to say, it didn't, but James fell asleep soon after that, his body finally buckling under the stress it had been handling.

Just under an hour later, Claudia gently woke James up from his pool of sweat and told him they were preparing for landing. He had made it, but felt like some part of him had died up there anyway.

THREE

He checked in at the reception and asked for his bag to be sent up to his room. He told the receptionist he was expecting someone by the name of Leon Meyer and to send him to the rooftop restaurant when he came, then headed there himself. James had been to loads of these meetings-that-weren’t-really-meetings, but he never failed to enjoy one. He never really had a taste for boring board room meetings with drab presentations and subpar food. As soon as James hit the big leagues, he went exclusively to these ones at lavish restaurants with expensive champaign and caviar and clever segues into business deals.

“No clever segues this time,” he corrected himself. This meeting was purely about getting the Swiss back on board as soon as they could.

The lift dinged and opened right onto the restaurant, greeting James with the overwhelming scents of sausages, meatballs, pastas, and beers. It was a purposely small place, designed to look and feel ultra-exclusive, only five tables across. James was shown to the one he had reserved from back home, then began taking in his surroundings, repeating his exercise of making mental notes of who he was sharing a room with.

He decided to start at the far end of the restaurant and work his way towards himself, then beyond. At the very end, overlooking the city below, sat a man that looked like he belonged in a Roald Dahl book. A rather heavyset man, he was stirring a cup of tea with his left hand and riffling through a paper set on the table with the other. He boasted a thick moustache and gave his left hand the occasional break to twirl its end. James watched him for about five minutes but didn't once see him take a sip of the tea.

At the table next to him, sat a man of quite the opposite build. He was tall and wiry, as if the wind may carry him away at a moment's notice. He had a large pitcher next to him, but regarded it with a certain air of suspicion, as if he didn't trust the waiter that brought it to him. Instead, he focused his attention on the fish in front of him. James scowled at the appalling pairing.

The next table was him. He had arrived a bit earlier than their meeting time, but Meyer was now ten minutes late and he didn't particularly like his lack of professionalism. He noted that with some bitterness, then continued with his observations.

Next to him sat a couple on their honeymoon by the looks of it. James guessed either rich parents or incredible luck, or perhaps some combination of the two. They ate out of each other’s plates and settled in an eternal embrace that they didn't seem to be coming out of any time soon.

Finally, with a view of the other end of the city, sat two men thoroughly engrossed in their conversation. They spoke in hushed tones and had barely touched the food in front of them; by the looks of it, weren't planning on at all.

James had just made this last observation when Leon Meyer finally walked in. Dressed in a crisp blue suit, he walked quickly, maintaining his air of bravado nonetheless. James saw him and waved him over.

"Sorry I'm late, James. There was a mess at the office I had to deal with."

James had long learned the art of fake politesse and called upon it once more. "No problem, Leon." Then, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, "Gave these a little more time to mature," he said, placing a wooden cigar box engraved with his initials on the table.

Meyer gave James a look of appreciation and eagerly took one, chopping the end off with the cutter also from the box, and produced a lighter from his pocket for the two of them.

"Look, Leon," James began. "I respect you and your company enough to skip the usual formalities and just get right to it. What's the problem with the deal? We drafted it after weeks of meetings and made it beneficial to both companies. Yours actually stands to benefit more than ours." Most of what he said wasn't true, but James saw no harm in slipping the little details in. Anything to tip the scales.

"James, I like you. I do. But the boss changed his mind. Here," he said, opening his briefcase and pulling out a file. "We've drafted another deal." He pushed the folder across the table.

James took it and pulled a pen out from his coat, ready to amend the document. They went back and forth for a while, each cancelling out the other's changes until they reached a mutually agreeable middle ground.

The technical term for what conspired would be “price fixing”, but James preferred to think of it as simply allowing British products complete freedom in the British market. They celebrated their new agreement with expensive champaign and admittedly fantastic lobster.

“Thank god the company's paying for everything,” James thought.

Thanks for reading! You can read the full story for as little as $0.86! Why not a full dollar? Because my sense of humour is in need of serious medical attention and I think this would be funny.

This is my first pay-what-you-want project and I really, truly hope it goes well! With the holiday season upon us, it would make a great (print-ready) gift too. Thanks for all your support :)

taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @caspersgraveyard @zephsthings @mujhe-rone-do @shikayatein

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