#sorry for putting my actual thoughts in the tags <- unapologetic

[dirtbra1n]

yeah so about ichinose.

if there’s one thing harusono is gonna do it’s give characters identifying marks

like I really don’t think there’s anything profound to say here it’s just like. ahhhh I’m sending you psychic beams you’ll understand. basically I’m wondering though The hell happened in the year since this happened

gayass..

[bekolxeram]

I honestly think it's nothing personal. Someone just saw your post and felt pity because the writers often don't do this much research when it comes to the show, so OP and those reblogging the post probably thought you'd do yourself a favor if you stopped obsessing over the timeline. What they failed to notice, though, is that this is not really the focus of your analyses; you don't care about the timeline, you care about the aviation stuff. It's your passion so it's normal that you want to see it represented well or at least somewhat believable in the show. This is not a crime.

If you worry about potentially irritating people, you could always add a disclaimer on top of the post that this is just an info dump about the real world, but the show ultimately does what it wants to do so no one here should feel obligated to subscribe to your theories.

I think there are a lot of people actually appreciating your input to our fandom, but there will obviously be some who don't care and get irritated. It's normal. I get irritated all the time when I scroll on my "For you" page here on Tumblr just because people headcanon Buck and Tommy in a way that I don't. That shouldn't stop them from writing what they want, though. It just says that I'm not their target audience. I think the same's with you. If someone's really this annoyed because you write about something you're passionate about and it collides with what they believe to be true, let them. Add a tag that they could block if they don't want to see it. But don't let them dictate what you write about.

Sorry, this got really long, but I really want you to know that it's okay to be yourself here, even if some people don't appreciate it. There will always be those who don't, but there will also be those who do. I think your input is great for fanfic writing purposes at least. If you help just one person with your knowledge, I think it's enough to feel satisfied. Also, if Buck was real, I bet that your blog would be one of his favorites because he could actually learn some cool stuff about his boyfriend's profession.

Ultimately, this is your mental health and no one here can force you to do something you don't feel comfortable with. If their comments made you feel like you shouldn't impose, it's a shame but if helps your mental health it's fine. I'll miss your analyses and I'm sure plenty of people will too. But we'll have to accept it because there's a real person behind this screen and their comfort should be prioritized on this blog. But if a part of you feels like you don't want to stop, please listen to it before you make this decision and remember that it's okay to be fully and unapologetically yourself.

I actually love long posts. And this is so lovely, I teared up a bit reading it yesterday, so thank you.

I think you put into words very accurately what I wasn't able to. I made my first ever post the day 7x09 aired. (It was actually my 30th birthday.) Something happened that week, a Singapore B777 encountered severe turbulence over Myanmar, injuring 104, killing 1. The media immediately pointed out the jet "plunging 6000 ft in 3 minutes" using FlightRadar24 data. I'm not talking about tabloids, I'm talking about BBC, Reuters, Al Jazeera, reputable news agencies. Aviation experts contacted the media upon reading the articles and told them a descent rate of 2000 fpm is actually standard, more so when there are injured passengers in need of urgent medical attention. Even then the media didn't walk back their sensationalized statements until a week later. That combined with the widespread attention Boeing has gotten after the MCAS scandal and the door plug blowout earlier this year, this kind of clickbait-y reporting with numerous misconceptions always gives me the ick.

Then, as you remember, the tide on BuckTommy turned drastically around that time, when a subsection of the fandom realized Tommy was staying. And that's when I started seeing takes like he only "drove the helicopter", Hen was the hero, Tommy did nothing and didn't deserve a medal. As you can see I was already in that mindset, being irritated by aviation misconceptions, I really wanted to hit back with my measly little knowledge about flying. I was already seeing people over here getting annoyed by the constant negativity and fighting, then I had an idea, why not try explaining the 5 years vs 7 years at Air Ops conundrum by bringing the intensive training for LAFD pilots into it? I mean, the introduction Tommy gave Buck during the Harbor Tour was lifted verbatim from the real LAFD website. The writers didn't even have to google the "training takes 2 years" part, it was on the same page, they just had to scroll down a little and read a few more lines.

I just thought it would be a fun little hc/potential background story for Tommy, showing how hard it is to be a firefighting pilot. On top of that, competency and dedication towards one's goal is just super hot. Even the CAL FIRE air tanker stuff I wasn't trying to persuade others that the invisible string theory is wrong. I just saw and loved the idea that Tommy always "knows a guy". We only saw one example in canon of that, him being friends with the Las Vegas fights promoter, so I was like, wait, he knew a guy with CAL FIRE too! Maybe also sneaking in some fun facts about the power and danger of water dropping in an urban environment. I never intended to nitpick, I'm just trying to bring 2 things I love together. I mean real CAL FIRE didn't even start operating C-130 until last year, and I don't give a damn about it.

I wrote about my fear of one day being mistaken as one of the Tommy bashers because my current overfixation coincides with what the haters decide to fuss about that day. I saw pushback against looking too much into the timeline first 2 times I posted about Tommy's pilot career. As I said, I planned to keep writing about things I enjoy until the day comes that I unknowingly walk into the bear trap. Honestly, I feel like this time is it.

Like many BuckTommy enjoyers, I've been a little on edge since the hiatus started. We've got attacked, harassed and bombarded daily by a thousand different reasons Tommy supposedly won't be back for S8. Then I saw those planes, I saw that hangar, and I was so excited. I had so many ideas and speculations to play with. The 8x02 title came out, I finally got a couple aviation related asks, I was so pumped. I wasn't even thinking about CAL FIRE at the time, someone asked if it was possible Tommy flew that plane realistically, so answered it. And hours later, that post popped up, explicitly mentioning my theory, with 200+ notes. It was just... a little overwhelming.

I'm not even mad at those who think I obsessed over these things too much. I just... wasn't prepared for that. I thought, comparing to the months of bad faith discourse, I was just talking planes, helicopters and clouds, that should be quite tame? I did not expect it to be actually controversial. I just don't feel the same happiness nerding out about aviation in this fandom afterwards. Maybe I just need some time to process and perhaps tone it down? I don't know. I still have many ideas in my head and those asks in my inbox.

But once again, thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings. You have no idea how good that makes me feel.

[sciderman]

How do you feel about different animated Peters? Do you have a favorite out of them?

hooh man, i know i say that i've consumed every little bit of spider-man media ever but it's really not true actually, and i think the thought of trying to watch every single animated version of peter parker kind of makes my brain explode. there are so many. i didn't actually grow up on spider-man cartoons, i only really got into spider-man comics in my late teens so my point-of-reference for peter parker will kind of always be the 616 comics, first-and-foremost.

i did watch a bit of ultimate spider-man as it was airing and i probably am one of the very few people on the planet who's kind of oddly soft on it! i have complicated feelings about ultimate spider-man. i feel about it the same kind of way that i feel about way's deadpool run. that it's an entirely annoying depiction of the character that is full to the brim with irritating jokes that don't land and package up the character to be a nutszo joke-a-minute lols random haha type deal but - i see oddly sincere and sympathetic and self-aware moments in there that make me inexplicably fond of that particular portrayal.

i don't know - i actually really love it when peter's portrayed as an actual weirdo. not the uptight square-boy you usually see, or this quirky boy-scout who's just kind of bland and cute and nerdy - but a peter parker that is actually unapologetically annoying. like you can't stand to be with him. i kind of love to see it. i don't know, i want him to be annoying. i think he should be annoying. and i love that he's fucking insane. like, objectively. he's not a sane man. he's adhd incarnate. and he's stupid. he has heroic moments, yeah, but he's also stupid and a jerk. i don't know. i'm probably giving it way too much credit, but compared to what came after (disney xd's spider-man (2017), looking at you) it's fun and kind of a very weird departure to your usual spider-man fare. deadpool appears in this show for one singular episode also so naturally thta is enough to make my brain go brrr.

(i've actually been really wanting to write a fic set in this universe. it's a universe i'm kind of interested in exploring, actually. been rotating it in my mind for a really, really long time. i'm almost ashamed to admit it, but every version of wade wilson fires up my brain, and i'm really, really interested in fleshing out this strange, i-was-a-child-soldier-turned-teenage-mercenary wade wilson. sorry. off-topic now. spider-man. we're meant to be talking about spider-man.)

disney xd's spider-man (2017) sorry you are so ugly and so boring. she doesn't exist to me. i hate that stupid nerdy off-brand tom holland ass twink with the green eyes. hate her. she is so boring. and her voice is even worse than drake bell (how could that be possible)

60's spider-man fucks. binged it so hard during my college days because it put me into the flow-state while i was working on my animation projects. i love that square boy. i love how macho he sounds when he's in the suit. i love his stupid fucking spider with the six legs. i love that they didn't have the budget for the extra two legs. i love him. he got me through college. almost tempted to do a stream of 60s spider-man so you all can enjoy it with me. it's a treasure. and thank you, 60s spider-man, for all the reaction images.

spectacular spider-man is very beloved, and i NEAARLY watched it all the way through, but – i don't know, i kind of just... don't like that peter parker very much. i couldn't tell you why. he's just a little boring to me. maybe it's the same criticism people slam onto andrew garfield's spider-man, the "he's too cool" argument. he's just not cringefail enough. he's kind of a bit boring. and his stupid SHIRT TAG that is NEVER TUCKED IN makes me FROTH at the MOUTH. i didn't wind up finishing the series because the love-triangle stuff just got way too exhausting for me. usually i eat up the peter parker drama but this particular case it really is a "why on earth is everyone in love with him. he's so boring." kind of situation. sure, it's a universal constant, but in this series it really is true. i wouldn't waste my time with him. sorry. mid. 5/10 peter parker portrayal. but the art and animation and theme song fuck.

i don't think i've watched enough of the other series to talk about them - which i feel kind of embarrassed about. i wanted to watch the animated series (1994) but just - never got around to it. i just prefer the comic-book format over animation, funnily. the irony, of me being an animator by trade, but preferring the medium of comic books. but like - i don't know. i prefer books over movies too. i just like doing more brain-work. it's why i like to write and draw more than i like to watch things. i don't like passive consumption. i want to put my brain to work. so - soooo, when it comes to watching things, i'm kind of terrible at it.

i think i should do a massive research session where i watch every spider-man series (or at least as much of them as my brain is willing to) - so i can do a comprehensive ranking of all peter parkers. if i have the time for that sort of thing (i don't.)

one day, maybe, one day. it could make a very fun video essay. i'd love to make a video essay, one day.

[lovesosweeet]

KNOW IT ALL x THE BAND CAMINO

part 1

a calum hood songfic

Tillie Beckett isn’t known for sticking around, and maybe that’s why touring had come so naturally to her, even as an amateur when she first began as an opener for 5 Seconds of Summer a few years ago… hopping from city to city, bed to bed, hookup to hookup. She broke hearts and left messes behind. And she didn’t care about it all, too wrapped up in whatever whirlwind she found herself in next.

The habits became religion as she propelled to stardom. Her music — angsty, energetic, unapologetic, and unpolished — took the charts by storm following her self-titled album’s debut. Her words were raw and honest, and they resonated with her audience, with upbeat and electric sounds that even the grouchiest and grumpiest of listeners couldn’t help but nod along to. It was the perfect mix of relatable and catchy, and that’s what made her the perfect opener for 5SOS.

Ashton had found Tillie’s videos on Instagram, where she often teased her emotional and early versions of songs she was writing. Her raspy voice caught his attention quickly, and he became a follower very early on, before she’d gone viral… which, she has done several times now. When 5SOS was prepping their latest tour, he threw Tillie’s name out as his top choice as an opener, and the rest of the band quickly supported it after they watched her cover of their very own, very old song “Lost Boy” and put a fresh spin on it. It was a song that the band themselves had honestly forgotten about that she gave an entirely new life. They were hooked and called her just hours after Ashton’s initial suggestion to offer her the spot.

Her friendship with the Australian quartet was forged in what, at the time, seemed to be an unbreakable bond. She was invited to dinner at Luke’s house to review the plans, the money, and all the other logistics of the tour, but the nitty gritty was long forgotten as the five of them stayed up until the sun rose the next day, just talking, jamming, drinking, and smoking the stars out of the sky.

She and Calum weren’t instant friends, at least, not the way she was with Michael. Tillie and Michael had bonded instantly over being gamers with an affinity for ever changing hair colors. He could also dress in her wardrobe and no one would’ve been able to guess that they weren’t his clothes, that is, if her clothes were big enough to fit the 6-foot-something Australian giant, since she was a mere 5 feet tall.

But, her friendship with Michael isn’t what landed her on the cover of tabloids.

No, the pictures of hers and Calum’s necks covered in matching bruises were what landed on the homepages of gossip websites. The videos of her and Calum whispering in what they thought were private corners of dive bars spread like wildfire amongst their somewhat overlapping fan bases. Them stumbling down the cobblestoned sidewalks of Montreal, hand in hand, for an impromptu “bachelor party” for Michael littered their tagged photos on Instagram for weeks.

It was a pair nobody expected but nobody questioned. It wasn’t predictable but it made sense.

At least, it did to Calum.

part 2

my masterlist! :)

—

A/N: hi i’m actually quite stoked about this one?!?!! sorry to anyone who wanted a self insert i personally feel more comfy in the OC x RP world and that technically won my poll! feels easier to separate as fiction/“characters” :)

[tiffanylamps]

#‘did i do a good job lee dong sik-ssi?’#'i wasn't paying attention. you gotta do it again' ^ the way these tags INSTANTLY manifested a wild crackfic in my brain, of HJW getting a seedy nightclub undercover assignment and going to LDS for help bc he needs to learn how to kiss, and it's the best and worst moment of LDS's fucking life, goddamn. god. damn.

Okay, so... I LOVE THIS. You have sent my mind into overdrive! You're most certainly welcome in my inbox if this is the quality of content you're providing me!! Thank you, thank you, thank you! 😩

I.... maaay have gotten carried away with this idea. I'm sorry for not stopping myself, but I had to write my thoughts down and share them with you 👀 I wrote this quickly in a blind-excited panic, so it probably reads a little weird. Sorry for any mistakes! 🫣

Note: I fell asleep whilst giving this a once over and still posted anyway. The formatting looks really weird on my phone compared to my laptop. I'll fix that at another time.

"You're doing what?" Dong Sik sputters, completely dumbfounded, now actually on the verge of laughing unapologetically loudly in the silly Inspector Han's face.

Joo Won can tell and seems utterly put out by the fact that Dong Sik would dare laugh at such a statement. "It isn't funny," he grumbles, once again.

"Clearly, you and I have a different sense of humour, because, this is hilarious." Dong Sik chuckles, making himself as comfortable as he can get on Joo Won's overtly and unnecessarily angular sofa. "What was it they have you doing again? A puppet booth-"

"A kissing booth. Stop laughing!" He can't help it, and why should he? The image of the ever-so-serious and gentile Han Joo Won not only standing in but working at a kissing booth, of all things, is the funniest shit Dong Sik has heard since Ji Hoon told him that Ji Hwa sings the latest sappy love songs in the shower.

"It's for the case! I didn't want to do it- my Chief made me! She seems to think that this is the best way of gaining intel on the kidnapper's whereabouts. This is serious Dong Sik, five children have gone missing from Lotte World within the last six weeks. We need information and-"

"-I get all of that but on Valentine's Day? Oh, Joo Won, you're fucked. I don't think you understand how many people you're going to have to kiss. With this gorgeous face of yours," Joo Won only just bats Dong Sik's hand away before it cups his cheek, but his usual hoity-toity up-tightness isn't there. If anything, he seems reluctant to intervene.

But then his ever-sharp eyes do a once over Dong Sik's relaxed frame and the room seems to become a little smaller. Look, Dong Sik isn't that young anymore and he and Joo Won aren't like... Well, they're not... They're not. So, it's none of his business whom Joo Won kisses, or where, or why... He just wished his chest knew this.

"Are you prepared for that?" He asks before he can stop himself. "Kissing, that is. Kissing strangers."

In that moment, Joo Won's ears do a rather lovely thing: they burn a deep shade of red, close to maroon, and Dong Sik would be a liar if he said he didn't find it unspeakably charming. The inspector shakes his head once firmly, with his hands clenched tightly into bone-white fists.

Oh. Dong Sik shouldn't tease.

There is little point in asking why Joo Won would agree to such an ill-suited undercover assignment, they both know exactly what lengths he would go to for a case. Kissing is nothing compared to hell. But they also both know that the Han Joo Won that would willingly go to hell is the same Han Joo Won that still struggles with giving or receiving a hug. So, kissing, and kissing strangers at that, must be a complete nightmare for him.

"Have you been... preparing?"

Dong Sik doesn't know why this question feels like tar inside his mouth, dripping out with as much grace as that awful Marmite shit - Joo Won made him try once - drips out of a jar. He does know. Of course he knows. And Joo Won would too if he happened to look up from where his hands were still firmly clenched against his knees. If he saw just how much Dong Sik dreads his answer - dreads the reality that Joo Won has been kissing other people in order to prepare for kissing... Well, other people - then they'll be in real trouble.

"I've read some articles and they-"

Articles?

"Why would you need to read articles about kissing?"

Joo Won frowns and stares... hard.

It's rare that Dong Sik feels like a complete and utter idiot but this is definitely one of the few occasions. The poor inspector's annoyingly sweet face is just as flushed as his ears and Dong Sik feels a little sick with guilt.

"I've never felt the need to," Joo Won mutters quickly and with little decorum, getting straight to the point. "I've been given plenty of offers but I never saw the point in it."

The point? Gosh, this kid. Dong Sik sometimes forgets that the Joo Won he knows now is still the same Joo Won that sees the world in a multitude of monochrome, with little space for any variation of grey. "Have you ever wanted to, though?"

Joo Won finally looks up, letting his darker-than-a-night-sky eyes dance over Dong Sik's features before resting on one spot in particular. They stay there, past the point of it being misconstrued as an accident. Shit. The airy apartment abruptly feels no bigger than a dusty wardrobe; they suddenly feel too close. Dong Sik's chest hasn't felt this tight in years.

"Are you judging me?" Joo Won asks tight-lipped and full of misplaced shame. It takes everything in Dong Sik not to sigh at the inspector's stupid question. Who was he to judge? Heck, it's been years since he got laid and it's not exactly like he's had a whole lot of experience in that department, either.

"Who said I was?" Dong Sik pats one of Joo Won's hands, savouring the sensation of grazing his fingers over the taut knuckles he finds there. Foolishly, he wishes that something as simple as his touch would soothe them and relieve the stress of the man they belong to.

"But all my research has been no use," the inspector sighs and leans back against the sofa, raking a hand through his hair until it's dishevelled and entirely too nice. It's unfair, really, just how much Dong Sik prefers it this way. He pauses, and Dong Sik wishes he wasn't waiting for Joo Won's next words with bated breaths. "I've always been more of a practical learner."

The inflexion in his tone causes Dong Sik to pause but it's the heaviness of his gaze that renders him almost dead.

Surely not.

"Han Joo Won-"

"-You'd only have to do it once. Only once, I promise. I just need to know what it's like- I can figure out the rest on my own. I just..." his hand finds the back of the sofa, just a fraction off Dong Sik's neck. He leans forward, utterly desperate, determined, diabolically tempting.

He almost looks like a wounded puppy when he says with so much genuine frankness: "Please, Lee Dong Sik."

Dong Sik wished he knew what to do but Joo Won has always had a way of catching him off guard when he least expects it. He really wished he didn't hold such a large and obvious soft spot for this side of Joo Won's personality. But what can he say? He likes his men pathetic.

Really, he should keep him waiting, as it'll be good for the inspector's ego. But why would Dong Sik miss out on an opportunity like this just because he doesn't want to seem too keen?

"Just once?" He asks and ignores how his body sings when Joo Won bolts upright with an unprecedented amount of attention on Dong Sik. Only on Dong Sik.

"You can be honest if it's terrible or tell me to stop whenever you want. We don't even do it for- I just need to crack this case."

The case? Is that what you're telling yourself?

"Okay, Inspector Han. For the case."

He doesn't know what he expected, really. Sure, he's thought up some possibilities over the years he's known Joo Won. But this? Han Joo Won particularly launching himself onto him just a few days before Valentine's Day with the ruse of an undercover kissing assignment? Yeah, ridiculously enough, that should have been one of them. Thankfully, he manages to hold back a nervous laugh and instead focuses on the warmth of Joo Won's mouth.

Because that is Joo Won's mouth on his. A little too firm, a press too hard, but soft, nevertheless.

It's also Joo Won's aftershave he can smell: woody and sweet and insatiable. For a second Dong Sik thinks that this might be it: an innocent peck on the lips between friends. But then Joo Won's delectable figure seems to be rumbling with something not too similar to the roaring desperation he once displayed in Dong Sik's basement.

And with it and because of it, he moves his lips.

It's awkward. The rhythm is disjointed and the angle is a little uncomfortable. But It's Joo Won, so Dong Sik angles his head just so and lets their lips fit into place.

They kiss at a leisurely pace, letting the other get used to this new sensation. It's peculiar just are real this all is: from the way their mouth seems to fit almost perfectly together, to how Joo Won's hands feel criminally good holding onto the back of his neck like a lifeline, even to how none of it feels peculiar at all.

It should be scary how right it feels to be doing this but Dong Sik can't detect an ounce of fear in his body. Which is just...

He deepens the kiss, not giving a shit if it's a bad idea. He's good at those but painfully, remarkably, unbelievably, what they're doing feels the farthest from a bad idea.

Some people are into this: taking another person's first time. Dong Sik never considered himself to be amongst that group but there's something almost primal in the way he feels to be granted this opportunity. Dong Sik isn't possessive but when Joo Won's overly enthusiastic tongue clumsily swipes against his bottom lip, begging for an invitation, for permission, he can't help but feel the need to protect this boy. Protect him and have him all to himself.

The sensation only grows as their tongue dance together with Dong Sik's guidance. Maddeningly, Joo Won is receptive and eager and paying so much attention. Oh, Dong Sik could get used to this and that is the most damning thing of all.

Joo Won grabs his top and pulls Dong Sik's closer until there's only their apparent wantonness between them. He could pull him onto his lap, Dong Sik thinks clearly, allowing the thought to send a shockwave of electrocuting pinpricks throughout his body. It shouldn't be this good, Joo Won isn't even that skilled, it's far from the best kiss Dong Sik's ever received but... it's Joo Won.

It's Joo Won's mouth he's exploring with each considerate flick and swipe of his tongue, it's Joo Won's body that's becoming as malleable as putty under his hands, it's Joo Won who's kissing him back with just as much eagerness.

It's Joo Won... It's always going to be Joo Won.

Dong Sik isn't taking. How could he be doing something as crass as taking Joo Won's first kiss when Joo Won himself asked for this - inviting Dong Sik over to his place, letting him in as shy as a mouse - because Joo Won wants this. He wants it. He's never wanted to kiss anyone before.

Fuck.

Dong Sik can't stop the moan that passes from his body into Joo Won's. Regrettably, the inspector pulls away. "What's wrong?" Joo Won asks, out of breath and beautifully drowsy.

Of course, he misinterprets even Dong Sik's positive reactions. Aish, what are we going to do with you, Inspector Han?

It really isn't fair how lovely he looks like this: lips impossibly pink and cheeks blotchy beyond decency. He doesn't move far away, keeping their breaths mingled in the little space between them. "Did I do a good job, Lee Dong Sik-ssi?"

Oh, God, he's just so goddamn considerate and sweet, and just so... himself. Fuck you, Inspector Han. How was Dong Sik ever meant to go on with his life as normal now that he knows this side of Joo Won?

His inspector - his kissing partner - is waiting, getting more and more restless, petering out to the point of worried. That won't do. Maybe Dong Sik doesn't have to go back to normal... Maybe he doesn't want to. Maybe he can stay right here, for a little longer.

"I wasn't paying attention," he lies, letting Joo Won feel his fib against his lips. "You're going to have to do it again."

Joo Won doesn't hesitate.

Yeah, they can stay here for a little while longer.

-

I don't know what came over me but here we are 😂😂 I haven't written their dynamic in this way before, so it might not come across the way I intended. But hey ho, it's Shitmas Eve (where I am), so let's live a little.

I hope this was enjoyable and okay for me to write your idea but to also take it in another direction. I just couldn't get over the idea of Joo Won being forced to work a kissing booth as part of an underground assignment 😂😂

Thanks again! TTFN

[ahsokathegray]

An Arousing Provocation

Pairing: Rexsoka

Prompt: Rexsoka Week '22 - Day 4 - Soulmates / Seduction

Summary: Participating in a rather scandalous mission changes Rex and Ahsoka's friendship forever. Hidden feelings and desires are revealed when someone else engages with the Captain in ways Ahsoka has only wished of.

Tags: 18+ language, prostitution, another woman, detailed depictions of sex (this smut is unapologetic), creampie, praise, overstimulation, cum play, squirting, loss of virginity, dominant Rex, the slightest hint of dumbification?

Word Count: 6,020

A/N: this is both the filthiest and longest thing I’ve ever written. my google doc is 15 pages long. I haven't written smut in years, but my credentials are that I've read so much more since then. pls let me know how I did!

read on ao3! / rexsoka week '22 masterlist

Rex hated this plan. He hated it then, and he hated it now. At least, she wasn’t a child this time around. He’d never been so angry at her Masters than during that mission to Zygerria. 

He looked down at her, “I don’t like this idea, Ahsoka. I can’t watch you do that again. Once was enough. I know this time you at least have a say in the matter, but I can’t go along with this. We have to find another way to get that intel.”

Ahsoka contorted her face.

“What?” he asked, sick over what other information she could possibly offer.

“It’s actually the other way around,” she winced.

He narrowed his eyes, “The other way around?”

She nodded and continued reluctantly, “I would be your handler this time around, and you would be the…”

“The pleasure slave.”

“Prostitute,” Ahsoka corrected. 

“Kriff, Ahsoka. If we didn’t need this information so badly…”

“I know. I’m sorry, Rex.”

He wanted to be sorry. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it meant that she didn’t have to be posing as the pleasure slave, it was a plan he would have to go along with. Comfortability would be difficult to say the absolute least. 

Rex sighed, a sense of dread flooding him, “Alright. Brief me again.”

She nodded, “This Leisure Zone is our target’s most frequented brothel. They have an overwhelming majority of female pleasure workers. Recently, they put out a request for more male workers as well. There’s apparently been a high demand for them. I reached out… They said that a clone deserter would be very enticing to the patrons. It’s common for the workers to assume backstories, so the reality of yours would only contribute further to them turning a profit.”

More like contribute to their libidos.

He tried to steady his breathing and process this information, “I wouldn’t actually be expected to sleep with these patrons, would I?”

She tried not to show how disgusted she was at his question. The thought of her actually selling his body off to other people against his will filled her with a rage she was too overwhelmed to address.

Ahoska had never seen what anger looked like on the Captain, but this would be the closest thing to it if she had to imagine. Never in a million years would she ask this of him if it wasn’t so imperative to the Rebellion. But with a valuable informant in the brothel, there was no other option that would work successfully. 

“Of course not, Rex. It would be a quick job, one night is all we need. The informant has valuable intel for us that an Imperial patron gave to her — information that could help us prevent the TIE Defenders from getting shields.  She can’t leave the brothels, her handler is a very strict individual. We have to go to her. “

Rex looked at the woman next to him, for the first time in his life feeling small.

She gave him a sympathetic hand to the shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, it’s a high-class brothel. Very expensive. My price for you will be set too high for anyone to pay. I promise.”

He didn’t think he’d ever worn something so revealing in his life. The most physically vulnerable he’d ever been was when he was solely in his body glove. But this… This was the definition of vulnerable. When Ahsoka handed him the disguise, he didn’t expect her to hand him so little. In fact, he’d waited for her to hand him more. 

Upon being told that it was the entire disguise, Rex felt his whole body lose its color.

That put him where he was now, in the ship’s ‘fresher, too nervous to step out. He looked at himself in the mirror, gripping either side of the counter and squeezed. 

It wasn’t that he felt exposed in the material, nor was it that he thought he even looked bad in it. In fact, he thought he pulled off the role of prostitute too well. It just felt like he had stepped into someone else’s skin. If the Republic had given him this mission, he knew he’d be able to carry it out successfully. It was the fact, however, that Ahsoka would be involved, seeing him in this state. He felt so exposed like this. 

She’d given him nothing to cover his upper half. Rex was just bare chested, scars and muscles all on display like they were meant to induce the arousal of others. That wasn’t their purpose. He was built because he had to be, because he was a soldier! He had scars because the fight he fought had at one point meant something to him! They signified the countless times he’d placed his life on the line, not trophies or traits to be desired and fawned over.

Rex had felt like an object his entire life, assigned a number at birth and treated as if he was disposable. But this brought a whole new shadow to that familiar feeling.

How could he walk out there knowing she was on the other side of the refresher door? He couldn’t let her see how red he got when he was embarrassed, how the blush didn’t just gather in his cheeks, but his neck and chest as well. Any and all modesty would forever be ripped from him. Ahsoka would never be able to unsee or unlearn what he looked like under his armor.

This mission changed the dynamics of their relationship forever.

He looked at the scantily clad reflection of himself. The gold metal vambraces and rerebraces he didn’t mind. They were gaudy, but they were the least of his complaints on the ensemble. The part he did have an issue with was the metal apparatus that sat low on his hips. It was situated below his hip bones and cold. At every move he felt as if it might slip off and leave him completely bare. The gold accessory, impersonating as a garment, held up two nearly-sheer pieces of black fabric — one covering his front and one covering his backside. That was all. Any wrong movement and everything would be out in the open.

Rex had swallowed his spit so many times that his mouth had gone dry. His nerves were buzzing, putting his body into a pseudo fight-or-flight mode. Anxiety wasn’t something that he’d ever experienced before, he hoped that after this, he wouldn’t ever have to experience it again.

He thought back to his personal mantra: Experience outranks everything.

Yeah, he really hated that right about now.

Ahsoka called to him from the other side of the door, “Rex? Everything alright in there?”

“Yeah. Yeah… I just had trouble figuring it out. I got it,” he rushed out. His heart felt like it truly might burst. Stepping away from the sink, he faced the door. His finger hovered above the panel, hesitating before pressing the button, in no way ready to reveal himself to her. Swallowing his pride, he decided that he’d never be ready, and opened the door.

His Commander stood barely a meter away, appearing quite concerned. She backed away as soon as the door slid open, realizing how close she was to her practically naked Captain. Her mouth dropped open as she began to apologize, “Rex一”

“Let’s get this over with,” he quipped, cutting her apology short. 

She held a cloak in her arms, pressing it too tightly to herself as she took in his appearance. He stood in the doorway with his head turned to the side, too embarrassed to make eye contact. Ahsoka lifted her jaw, acutely aware that she’d been staring at him open-mouthed for too long. He looked… He looked the part. It was quite the shock. Rex looked…

Ahsoka blinked, reminding herself to offer the cloak to him, “Here. Take this, it will um… It will keep you covered until we’re inside the establishment.” She released her tight grip on the fabric, handing it over to him.

Only after he put the cloak on did he finally face her. 

She, however, looked anywhere but him. She didn’t want him to think that she would betray his modesty in such a way. Rex was her longest and most trusted friend and the last thing she wanted to do was make him feel less than or as if he couldn’t trust her. 

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“We should go ahead and catch transit there, they’re expecting us soon.”

The ship’s ramp lowered and the night sky greeted them, the bright lights of Morlana One beckoning them to join in the seediness that it had to offer.

Ahsoka had been right. Their target brothel was very high-class. Everything in sight dripped of major expense. Even the back entrance was grand, guarded by several able-bodied humanoids. Rex felt his contribution would be better utilized if he were to serve in their position instead.

To everyone else, Ahsoka came across as unassuming, her muscles covered by a thick trench coat. Rex knew something that any potential di’kut did not. She was more than capable of handling any missteps. She was a Jedi survivor. 

Rex knew that if anything went awry tonight, that she was more than qualified to hand everyone in the establishment their asses. 

She’d handled half a legion with only the help of himself and a few droids.

The bouncers verified their chain codes and cross-referenced the schedule before allowing them inside. When they stepped through the thick door, more guards stood inside, the process repeated.

Ahsoka checked them in with the hostess, putting them on the menu as ‘Clone offered by Ashla’. 

Rex flexed his jaw, keeping his posture rigid. He was no offering. 

Ashla gave him an in-character smirk and he remembered himself. He became more lax, compliant, and falsely willing. His weight shifted to one leg, trying his damndest to appear sensual. 

Acting as his handler, Ahsoka beckoned him to the back where they’d been given a prep room. Not to be mistaken with the other set of back rooms… The long hallway of private booths.

He reminded himself not to be so tense, as he would not be passing through that hall. 

Down their assigned hall, they began to see the other workers. Most of them were of female designation, a few gender fluid, and one other male that he could see. Rex felt more comfortable. These people were in the same boat as he was, just with more experience. 

He noticed how they all sauntered instead of merely walked, stalking out their destination as if it were prey. It was safe to assume that applied to the paying customers as well. The one male he saw was Zabrak. He walked with confidence, head tilted down, pupils peering upward from underneath his brow bone. 

Rex could make this charade convincing. He would mimic exactly that. 

“How are you feeling?” she rushed out once they were secure behind the door of their little room. It was dimly lit and furnished with a plush chaise lounge, a compact vanity, and clothing rack. 

He towered in front Ahsoka, realizing he maintained his height over her without his armor on and the addition of her platform boots. Her big eyes searched him, already feeling his emotions through the Force. 

“It’s definitely a culture shock,” he started. 

“Yeah, this is my first time on Morlana One as well.”

He shook his head, “No. I mean, this just isn’t what I expected out of a brothel.” 

Oh. He’d never been in one before.

She looked surprised, “I’m sorry… I guess I just assumed… You’d visited between missions.”

He pressed his mouth into a line, laughing dryly at his own inexperience. It seemed to be a recurring theme for the night. “Nah. The other men? Of course. I was always preoccupied with mission reports to join.”

She bit her lip, something inside of her deflating at his response. He saw and quickly decided to refute the white lie. 

“I used that excuse to turn the offers down. I was never interested, ‘Soka, even when I’d wrapped up the desk work,” he corrected. 

Ahsoka nodded, concealing the fact that his reveal of the truth had caused her heart to surge. That was something she knew he’d never told his brothers. He’d given her a piece of information that he’d kept close to himself. When the rest of the men were out reveling in the pleasures of sex, Rex had abstained. 

She selfishly wondered if he had… If his virtue still remained after the many years of the war, after the countless opportunities he’d gotten to be rid of it. 

“Our informant. The Twi’lek woman with purple coloring. Did you see her when we turned down the hall?”

He nodded. 

“She’s on the floor at the same time you are. You’ll have an hour and a half to make contact. Either in the hallway going in and out or discreetly on the floor.”

A sweet chime rang throughout the establishment, signaling that one round of workers were on break and the next round were to step out onto the floor. Rex’s round. 

Ahsoka let out a deep exhale, “Okay. We can do this. In and out. One round. The datarod is small, you’ll need to find somewhere to conceal it. I think the best option you have is under your tongue.”

His entire body was vibrating and he knew it was time to remove the garment that had provided him some sense of temporary comfort. He fingered the edge of the cloak and pulled it back over his shoulders, feeling the cold of the room settle in his pores. The material fell to the ground, exposing him to Ahsoka yet again. The peaks of his nipples hardened with the temperature and the blush he hadn’t wanted her to witness began to spread over him. 

Their proximity was suffocating. He backed away a few steps and made way to the door, picking his shoulders up and narrowing his eyes to channel the daunting look that the Zabrak had managed. 

His back muscles were on display to the woman behind him. Ahsoka caught herself scanning every inch she could see. The muscles were lean and chiseled, expanding and contracting with his breathing. The gold belt was dangerously low, showing off the dimples situated at the low end of his back. She could make out how taut his backside was… the long fabric that hid it giving her limited visibility. 

“I’ll be out there soon, with the rest of the handlers on the wall by the door. Good luck, Rex.”

Rex felt her eyes burning into him despite not facing her. He gave her a confident nod over his shoulder and stepped into character as soon as he passed through the doorway. 

Once on the floor, Rex had more peace of mind. Every one of the workers all had next to nothing on. He had immediately established eye contact with the informant, repeating the action several times now. The Twi’lek was clad in a skimpy green outfit, the entire ensemble consisting of straps all around her body. She seemed aware that he was the one sent to receive the information. 

As promised, he found Ahsoka taking her place alongside the rest of the handlers by the entrance. 

He blended in well, but it was her who looked as though she belonged. Ahsoka was dressed in all black, several layers of leather wrapping her up, a utility belt cinching it all in. Her arms were crossed as she leaned cooly up against the wall, a hard expression on her face. If he were a customer, he wouldn’t want to do anything to get on her bad side. The whole wall was lined with some of the most treacherous looking people. Unbeknownst to them, Ahsoka was the deadliest of them all. Her trench coat was hanging by her elbows, grazing the top of her intricate boots. 

Rex had been so absorbed with how his own costume looked that he hadn’t registered Ahsoka’s disguise until now. This was the most of her legs he’d ever seen. Fit, orange calves and thighs were encased in ripped fishnets, disappearing under her tiny black leather shorts.

Music pulsated in his ears, the upbeat sounds matching his heart rate. His pupils had blown wide at the sight. He’d undressed her with his eyes before, but never so obviously. It took every fiber of his being to will away his arousal, not wanting her to notice any potential tent or wet patch on the fabric that covered him. 

Her presence was all the encouragement he needed to let this evening roll off his shoulders. It was easier to ignore the way the customers were ogling him. She was the only one in the room that he wanted to look at him with that hunger. 

He kept by the bar, not yet approaching any of the patrons. Many of the workers did the same, having the freedom to choose who got their service and who didn’t. He reminded himself to thank Ahsoka for arranging a night with low occupancy.

The Twi’lek leaned over the opposite side of the bar, beckoning him with a sharp-nailed finger.

Rex removed himself from the counter, taking short strides in her direction. The metal apparatus clinked as he walked, the fabric flowing with his movement. He crowded the shorter woman, mimicking a move he watched a customer do. She reached out with both hands for his abdominal muscles, rubbing the entire surface area with cold palms. He flinched for a split second, not having expected her to be so physical. 

It’s just an act. She’s just playing a part. This needs to look convincing. He swallowed his doubts and fell back into character. 

Taking what he knew about Ahsoka’s anatomy, Rex reached out and stroked one of her headtails. 

The informant licked her lips and pressed her chest against him. Her native Ryloth accent was thick, “Hello, Clone.”

He was thankful for the loud music, their proximity was indeed a tactic and not for her own pleasure. She then stuck a finger in her mouth, sucking on it and pulling it out slowly, tracing Rex’s jaw with the sheen. He understood. The datarod was in her mouth, she didn’t have a Rylothian accent. A purple leg was wrapped around one of his own, pulling him further into her, pulling his mouth to hers. 

It was lengthy and wet as she transferred the datarod into Rex’s mouth with her tongue. 

Ahsoka watched from the opposite side of the room, feeling her entire body become heated. She was seething at the display she’d just witnessed be performed on Rex. She’d tasked him with making contact. This is not how she meant for him to interpret that. Her hands balled into fists and her nails dug into her skin, clenching her teeth at the pain. 

The Twi’lek pulled away from him, but not before licking down his neck. Rex peered down at her as she removed her tongue and backed away from him to give her attention to the whistling Weequay in the booth to her right.

Rex instantly looked to Ahsoka, who was evidently displeased with what she’d just seen unfold. 

The booming music roared in her montrals as the two of them endured the remaining time in the round. Before they knew it, the chime sounded through the brothel once more and she escorted Rex back to the prep room. 

“Did you get the information?” she bit out, all business. 

He made a noise and reached up to pluck the datarod from underneath his tongue, “Got it.”

So, that obscene display had been a tactic. 

Ahsoka’s expression didn’t change, “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

Rex placed the small object in her outstretched palm, privy to exactly how bothered she was at how it was obtained. He became aware of just how little they were both wearing and how close they were. His chest rose and fell with a quicker pace than usual. He could feel her every exhale on his skin. 

For a moment, Ahsoka’s better judgment faltered. She forgot that she was upset, as Rex towered over her wearing that and looking good in it. 

Her other hand reached between them, shaky and hesitant. The practically nude man in front of her took her hand in his and placed it on his chest, spreading her fingers apart, pressing it into him. 

A gasp escaped her mouth, lips parting lightly. His heart was beating at the speed of light. 

This small act was the most provocative thing he’d experienced the entire night. Not even the informant's method of delivery had enticed him as much as this did. 

She looked up to see his dark eyes trained on her and she tore her hand away. The welcoming heat of his skin was quickly replaced by the cold air of the room. Rex squared his shoulders and donned his cloak, following Ahsoka out the door. 

The trip back to their freighter was a silent one. Ahsoka was fuming with every step but feigning as if she didn’t care. 

The pair departed Morlana One as quietly as they’d arrived, making the jump to hyperspace with home in the navicomputer. Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to crawl into her own bed at the South Pole of Saleucami and forget all about this mission. 

Rex excused himself to the ‘fresher, desperately needing to wash the events of the evening away. 

The metal excuse of an outfit clattered to the floor and Rex willed the touch of it and the informant off of his skin. The spray was as hot as he could get it, fogging up the small room and deeply cleansing every pore on his body. He began tugging at his neglected cock, milking himself dry of the sexual tension that had lingered between him and Ahsoka. His head leaned up against the durasteel wall for support, as he fucked his fist, pretending it was hers. 

He moaned through gritting teeth, the evidence of his need for her coating his hand. The warm water washed it away, leaving him with the guilt of disrespecting her in such a manner when she was just one room away. 

She just wasn’t a woman that you could masturbate over and feel honest afterward. 

In the other room, Ahsoka relentlessly fidgeted. She kept her hands busy with the controls of the ship, fighting with her inward emotions. The jealousy is what sickened her most of all. She attempted to ignore its demanding hold on her. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to pull herself out of it, but nothing could erase how the woman had touched Rex. 

She was just doing her job. She made it look so convincing! It was the reason we have the intel and are off of that kriffing planet!

Ahsoka shed her trench coat, skin not losing the heat of her anger. She had no one but herself to blame. If she would’ve just made her move the first time she felt things for him, she wouldn’t have to worry about knowing if they were reciprocated. At least, if they weren’t, tonight would’ve been less painful. She had settled on taking decisive action. The ship was switched to auto-pilot and she made the nerve wracking trip to the refresher door. Deja vu. 

He’d been in there quite a while. She couldn’t hear if the water was still running or not and hesitated. Nervous knuckles rapped on the door anyway, “Rex?”

No answer. She tried again. Still, there was no response from the other side.

She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs with air and courage, and pressed the button that opened the door. 

Rex was standing in front of the mirror again, a towel slung around his waist, water from his shower still in beads on his skin. His blonde hair was buzzed again, the slight bit of length that he had earlier was now gone. He didn’t seem to notice her standing there, but then again, the entire room was clouded with vapor. 

How hot had Rex had the water?

The quiet man must’ve seen her out of his peripheral vision, his head snapping in her direction. He had a bit of depil cream by his ear. 

Ahsoka said nothing and slinked over towards him, standing behind him in the mirror. He watched with attentive eyes as she once again placed her hand on his middle. She made eye contact with him through the reflection, hands splaying as wide as they could over his abs and dipping into the crevices of each muscle, eliciting a twitch in his groin. He turned around to meet her, finding that she was still in her disguise as his handler. 

She closed the little distance that was between them and pressed her chest to his, drinking him in, waiting for him to stop her and tell her that this wasn’t something he wanted.

He didn’t. 

A slender, orange finger disappeared into her mouth. His chest heaved as she sucked, feeling the same sensation underneath his towel. It reappeared, accompanied by a popping sound, returning her lips to their full size. She lifted it up to his face and hooked her finger under his jaw where it met his ear, sliding the depilatory cream down the length of his jawline. 

He reached out and grabbed her hand, ceasing her movements. “Ahsoka,” he growled.

Her confidence shuddered, the role she’d stepped into falling away from her. What had she done? She shamefully anticipated his anger and disgust.

“If you think this is what you have to do to seduce me…” Rex breathed, “You’ve got it all wrong.”

Had she understood his meaning correctly?

She picked her shoulders back up, “Tell me what I have to do.”

Rex shook his head and used his other hand to grab her by the waist, “Absolutely nothing. Just your very essence is the definition of alluring, ‘Soka. You have me utterly wrapped around this finger of yours. The definitive hold you’ve had me in for so long一”

But Ahsoka didn’t let him finish. She decimated the millimeters that separated their lips, kissing him with more than just need. Their jaws moved in sync as they tried to soak up as much as they could out of one another. He released her hand to cradle her face, bringing her to meet his rhythm. Rex momentarily pulled away and looked her up and down, going straight for her belt. The hefty accessory fell to the floor at her feet, leaving the rest of her clothes free to be removed. He slipped his hand inside her opened vest, feeling the curvature of her figure that the belt had denied him access to.

He walked her backwards into the durasteel wall, placing one hand on her back lek to soften the blow. She moaned. Rex felt weak in the knees at that, praying that the sound he’d elicited from her didn’t falter his balance. His hands clapped the wall on either side of her head, kissing her hungrily. Ahsoka clung to him, her fingers pressed into the nape of his neck, swiping where he’d just buzzed his hair. 

Their chests rose and fell in unison and Rex pulled away, looking down at her exasperated state, “Jump.”

Ahsoka complied and he used his hands to hoist her over his hips, supporting her as he strode them to his quarters. She placed passionate kisses along his jaw and down his neck as he carried her to their destination, groaning as she sucked and grazed her teeth along the sensitive skin.

The dimly lit state of his quarters ushered them in, already matching the mood. Rex knelt onto the bed, signaling to her that she could drop onto the surface below. The short drop was soft and allowed her to see the full view of her Captain. His skin was warm and still wet, a blush coloring the skin from his face to his chest, his towel no longer slung loosely around him. She bit her lip, figuring it must’ve fell in their change of location, wondering if she was welcome to look down…

A tanned and veiny hand reached down there. Ahsoka’s eyes followed as Rex wrapped his fingers around the appendage between his legs, slowly stroking. The tip was swollen and weeping, a sticky substance coating his fingertips. 

She peered up at him through heavy lashes, propping herself up by the elbows. He neared her and she gulped, realizing how big he was as he leant down over her.

“Let’s get you out of these,” he whispered, lips grazing a montral. 

Ahsoka could’ve combusted just then. Rex’s strong hands took hold of her long vest, pushing them down her muscular arms. Her nerves bounced between them in a frenzy. She couldn’t tear her focus away from his face, watching as he undressed her both figuratively and literally. He reached around to her back and popped open her corset top, causing her breasts to bounce.

She yelped at the sudden movement and sucked in air. The material fell beside her and her chest was left bare. Rex let out a feral growl as he took the sight of her in and attached his mouth to her neck, hands immediately reaching out and palming her right breast.

Oh. Ahsoka hadn’t thought that could feel good.

The man above her continued his assault on her neck and chest. She threw her head back, attempting to contain the explosive pleasure erupting within her.

She could feel Rex smile against her skin, before he pinched her nipple and turned it around in his fingers. That was a moan she was unable to contain.

All the while, he continued the pumping motion between his legs, breathing hot and heavy on the inside of her lekku.

“Rex,” she groaned, and he pulled away.

“Are you okay with this, ‘Soka? Say the word now and we won’t go any further,” he whispered against her neck. “Tell me no and I’ll never touch you again.”

She whimpered at that and shook her head slowly.

His teeth scraped the sensitive mark on her neck, “M’gonna need a verbal response, ‘Soka.”

Ahsoka swallowed, “Please don’t stop, Rex.”

Her Captain crashed his lips into hers, reconnecting them and their fervent passion. Ahsoka dug her nails into this scalp, scratching as his tongue entered her mouth, swiping at her bottom lip. His hands had abandoned his angry cock and felt around for the zipper of her leather shorts, making quick work of getting them down her legs. They got caught on her knee-high platform boots and he removed himself from her, moving downwards.

He pulled the buckles free from their latches and gently guided them from her legs, kissing each of her calves afterward. He felt the texture of the tattered fishnets with buzzing fingertips, running his hands up the length of her legs before stopping on her thighs. Rex looked down at what awaited him. 

A wet patch had formed on Ahsoka’s underwear, giving away just how aroused and ready she was for him.

“Kriff… All for me?”

Ahsoka’s lekku had darkened, orange skin now blushed and ablaze. Before she could respond, Rex’s knuckles met and he ripped a hole in both her fishnets and her underwear. Her cunt clenched around nothing, juices covering her lower region, on display for Rex to see. The pupils of the man above her widened, taking in just how swollen and soaked she was. He dipped his middle finger and swiped between her orange lips, collecting her arousal and sticking the digit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, tasting her. 

“Weepy little pussy just couldn’t help itself, huh?” he purred.

Her pussy trembled at his words, unable to close her legs with how he kept one hand on her ankle. He repeated the action again, dipping his finger further inside.

That pulled a whine from her, legs shaky as she waited for him to taste again. Instead, he held it up to her, “Suck.”

Without question, she let Rex push his middle finger in her mouth. She mimicked his actions and sucked hard, using her tongue to detect the tang of her own excitement. 

He let out a guttural moan, feeling the act around his leaking cock. He looked down at himself. It was rock hard and standing further at attention than he’s ever seen. Ahsoka’s lips popped as he drew his finger free, a sheen of spit coating her lips. What he wouldn’t give to have lips like that wrapped around his dick.

Rex hooked his arms under her thighs and dragged her to him. He placed one hand on her hip and one hand on himself, aiming for her dripping entrance.

“Rex…” Ahsoka trailed.

His jaw flexed. He looked sinful, naked and taut and more toned than she’d previously been under the impression of. Lust was heavy in his voice, making it deeper, “Use your words.”

“How many… How many times have you一”

“This would be the first,” he divulged.

She nodded, content with his answer, and watched as his cock lined up with her entrance. The thick head kissed her slit, sliding between them. A shockwave ran through her body at the foreign sensation. She caught her breath and he continued, pushing further and further into her tight, hot hole, never once breaking eye contact. Ahsoka cried out at the new feeling. Rex slowly sunk into her, stretching her out and moaned at how she felt wrapped around him, all hot and tight and wet. 

He bottomed out inside of her and Ahsoka breathed heavily, eyes fixed on one another. She nodded, adjusting to how good and full she felt. Rex began to move his hips in short back and forth movements, a hand holding her hip firmly in place. When he drew back, Ahsoka started whimpering at the loss of him. He pushed back in, “Shhhh. Hold on, m’gonna go faster.”

Rex attached his mouth to her jaw, sucking and licking as he rammed into her, thrusting at a vigorous pace. She mewled in his ear, desperately grabbing and scratching at his toned back. An obscene squelching sound came from between her thighs, her juices coating the hair at the base of his cock.

“That thing… uhn you did with her lekku…” Ahsoka moaned.”

He groaned, “Good fucking girl, using your words.”

The hand that wasn’t being used to hold her still, moved up to her lekku and lightly stroked. 

Ahsoka whined, pleasure making her entire body vibrate. It was all starting to be too much to handle. Her nails dug into Rex’s shoulders, crying out with each of his thrusts. He had found the sweet, spongey spot in her drenched little cunt, ramming into it over and over. She wailed at the increase in his pace and her legs began to tremble, eyes squeezing shut. All of the pleasure curling up inside her had burst, rippling as her high came to a peak. Rex stiffened above her, moaning at how her climax had her squeezing his sensitive cock. He looked down and smirked, having fucked her to the point of squirting all over his thighs. 

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, the kisses on her cheek making her smile. Rex pulled out of her to watch his seed dribble out of her cummy pussy. He rubbed it around with his thumb and she bucked, still tender from the result of their desires. 

Rex could only look on her with awe, her skin in a thin sheen of sweat. She was ethereal and he was helplessly in love.

What the repercussions of their actions on their friendship would be, they would decide in the morning. Tonight, they were not held to the standards of the Jedi, the Republic, the GAR, or any other organized group. Tonight, they took back the pleasures that their former lives had denied them. 

[child-of-hurin]

yours tags going (#i honestly believe fandom could be healed if there was a ban on thinking about the feanorians for a mere two weeks#challenge: engage with the vast world of the legendarium without mediating everything through these five tertiary characters#sorry. six).............i've been peripherally aware of the silm for YEARS and never read it because the people i was around (feanorian stans of a certain strain....) made it sound like the dullest and most flat, classics-y, interchangeable thing, that had nothing in common with lotr or the haunting things around its edges. after reading excerpts from your blog and other actually good blogs i finally read the whole silm last week and it was incredible, i barely thought about the feanorians once the entire time unless they were being put in front of my face by the text, but that's ok because they take up so little pagetime. (feanor was better than all his sons put together and he still wasn't in my top 10). absolute delight of an experience <3

🥺💖 I am SO happy my soon blogging helped in any way convince you to give it a chance, and that you didn't regret it!! It IS a delight, no???The feeling of vastness & time in it are arresting to me, I feel invited to inhabit sentences and paragraphs, and I think it has such a delicate/skilled touch on the cosmology of it all -- which I also feel in LOTR! I would not enjoy it nearly as much if it was a parable, which is how soooooooooooo many fans around here seem to see it as... zzzz

I think Feanor + Feanorians work so well in the text for what they are meant to be and for the space they are given tbh, like, whenever I manage to dodge most of the fandom for a while, I remember I truly, honestly appreciate them, and even what some fans do with them! (They're none of them my top ten either though ^^)

The classic-y thing gets me, god, I think it's because that's the cultural lens so many bloggers here primarily have to look at stories that they take it for granted. Obviously, unavoidably, unapologetically , there's a lot of classics inspiration in it, but Tolkien's inspirations and aspirations with this work are essentially, avowedly and perceptibly other mythologies. That's not just Tumblr either, some months ago a friend was live blogging this published essay that tried with all it had to shoehorn meaningful parallels between The Fall of Gondolin and the Aeneid.

It also annoys me immensely when people act like this book is essentially a Catholic fantasy -- that can be a relevant lens to look at free will vs fate in Tolkien (avowed by the man himself in some extra-canonical texts), but not when looking at the Ainur, for example, or specific storylines and characters. No offense to people who find real meaning in it, but statements like "Earendil/Aragorn/Frodo is Middle Earth's Jesus" and "Galadriel is a Marian figure" are to me proof of lazy thinking and/or fundamental ignorance of catholicism :/

[eoieopda]

Hihi, Jade! Hope you’ve been well and are doing good hehe

I started learning the pre-chorus + chorus to Like Crazy and when I tell you it’s groovy as shit. Like damn. Though, if this doesn’t improve my hip-control, I genuinely have no idea what will 🤡

On another note, I’m meeting up with one of my friends on Monday! We’re going out for coffee and window shopping and I’m pretty excited because I haven’t seen her since the beginning of February of this year, and I’m excited to talk to her face to face (hah see what I did there ;))

I also did a little brainstorming for a story I’ve wanted to write since August of 2020, and I’m hoping it’s gonna help with my immense writers block concerning the idea itself lmfao

I was also wondering, but do you bake? I know it’s a pretty random question but a lot of my friends bake, and I’ve only ever baked once with one of said friends. We made chocolate muffins and, despite them being relatively messy, they actually tasted pretty good! I’m a bit sad we didn’t have chocolate chips though, I would’ve loved to take the famous(?) “you measure that shit with your heart” post as inspiration to make a mostly choc-chip choco muffin hehe.

Do you draw at all, either? I don’t draw much, and when I do I almost always draw exclusively doodles, but I’ve had a couple which came out pretty well. I drew this really tiny dragon a while ago (probably a few years back) which I thought came out pretty well hehet.

By the way, on a less random and softer note, I’ve been meaning to tell you but kept getting shy and insecure about how to say it, but I really appreciate you, you know? I know we don’t know each other super personally and everything, but our exchanges have been a consistent highlight to my everyday life since I’ve become your mutual.

Like, I can’t even begin to say how big of an impact you’ve had on me as a person just with a couple of our (admittedly short) interactions. Your posts brighten up my day, and I really love how full of love you are, and how you’re so unapologetically yourself. It’s really pushed me to become more comfortable in my own skin, which I couldn’t thank you enough for.

I know that probably went from zero (0) to one-hundred (100) real quick, lol, but I thought it was about time, you know? Sorry for putting something like this in an ask, I probably should’ve sent it in a PM but I thought, “I’m here, I might as well do it while I have the courage” 🥹

Anyway, sorry for all the blabbering xd.

I hope you have a wonderful day (or night, I’m not 100% what time of day you’re at rn)!

I hope this isn’t coming off as creepy as it’s starting to sound in my head 🥹 I admire you a lot is all; sorry if this makes you uncomfortable if it does lemme know pls. Okay bye ily 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

this is quite possibly the sweetest thing i anyone has told me in a very very very long time, and i am — OOF — misty in the damn eyeballs. like, i don’t even know how to thank you for that 😭🫠 i’m a whole mess omg. YOU ARE SO SPECIAL, LIL BABY HAN 😭💓💕💗🫶🏻

now i’m gonna stop wheezing and answer your actual questions and pretend i did not just fully tear up, lmao.

i do bake, but not as often as i used to? i kind of only do it when i’m home with my mom which is rare but will resume soon when i move back to my home state to be close again!! def prefer baking to cooking because there is some ridiculous disconnect in which i can do one fairly well but will burn the shit out of whatever meal i’m attempting and/or burn myself. i do not know why i am like this!!

i draw, but also not as often as i used to 🤪 like, i drew/designed all of my tattoos and used to be really into art, but my brain only lets me have 1-2 hobbies at a time, and this one fell by the wayside 🥲 rip art-phase jade.

and good luck with your wip!!! seriously, tag me in anything you post because i love FFF so much that i would surely love whatever else you write 💕🥹

[jamdoughnutmagician]

10 characters, 10 fandoms, 10 tags

The lovely @bookshelfdreams tagged me (thanks for the tag!) to do this, and while I can't guarantee this will be a coherent list of characters (and reasons why I like them!) hopefully this will help at least make for interesting reading, if not some very un-hinged thoughts at the very least 🤷‍♀️

Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Rose was one of my earliest memories of being obsessed with a character. I started watching Doctor Who in about 2006/during season 2 (I would have been about 8/maybe 9 years old at the time) so I missed her initial introduction in season 1, but I went back and rewatched her stuff with the ninth doctor and I just absolutely loved how she was just an ordinary working class girl who wanted to go on adventures (of course I didn't understand that this was the reason why I loved her so much as a kid but yeah..)

Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Look, I know we all have our opinions/ and criticisms on the mcu (which I totally understand) but there was just something about Bucky that I gravitated towards (Probably because I found Sebastian Stan attractive, but I digress.) A young boy who was willingly wanting to go fight in the war to defend his country and then ending up going through arguably the worst kind of trauma that someone could go through. Then to see his journey and story progress through the years, for me, has been a real treat to watch.

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Eddie became a very quick favourite of mine in such a short space of time (partly to Joseph Quinn playing him brilliantly) but I just loved how his character COULD have been this dark, brooding, misunderstood teen, but he was ACTUALLY a very sweet and warm character, despite what everyone else thought of him. He was just a funky little metal-head D&D nerd, and I loved him for that. I just really need him back for series 5 Please!!

Orla McCool (Derry Girls)

Again, Orla was just someone I gravitated towards, I can't quite put my finger on why, I just really liked her giddy optimism and strange but sweet outlook on things!

Harley Quinn (DCEU) is that what it's called sorry idk about these things! 🤦‍♀️

Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn is very special to me (Especially in her post Suicide Squad era) because she's outlandish and wacky, but also incredibly smart and quick. I'd read a handful of Harley comics and I just think she's really cool.

Elphaba Thropp (Wicked The Musical)

I can't really speak too much about her novel version because I haven't read enough of the book to form an opinion, but stage Elphaba has my entire heart. She's unapologetic in standing up for what she believes in and fighting what she believes is right, and I admire that about her.

Mabel Mora (Only Murders in the Building)

More so I love her relationship between Oliver and Charles, but Mabel's willingness to get stuck in and try to help to solve murders alongside her two slightly older friends was a very interesting dynamic to watch! Also I would kill to have her outfits because girls got style.

Gina Linetti (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

How could you not love the absolute self-confidence and bravado of Gina Linetti! She was as will forever be the most <3

Tecna (Winx Club)

Although I sat through both seasons of that bad neflix adaptation, nothing compares to the original cartoon in my eyes (at least the first 4 seasons anyway.) I think it has something to do with how it captured my attention as a kid because the idea of pretty fairies to me as a child was very appealing! I think (although the whole group had their own merits) Tecna was my favourite even just from a character design standpoint.

Becky Lynch (WWE)

I don't know if this technically counts since she's a real person, and considering I haven't watched WWE for a while but Becky's in-ring persona, was always a fascinating and exciting watch for me! Especially finding her feet as 'Becky-Two-Belts' and her being 'The Man', she was strong, powerful and for a long time under-rated as a performer, but I loved her so so much!

Tagging (sorry I'm not tagging 10 people, also don't feel like you have to do this at all!)

@the-odd-aardvadillo @unlimiteddream90 @lucyferchrist @ndj-blogs @smute @pherre @amidalasweets @theravensdreamer

[clairecrive]

Billy idea that I have no time to write myself loool: reader and Billy are friends with benefits. Reader is happy with the arrangement and knows Billy is sleeping with other women but she doesn't care. It's not serious with them. Billy however hadn't really thought about Reader sleeping with other people and he finds out. Maybe from friends (Frank, Curtis and Karen because hello AU) or maybe all of them are out at a bar and he sees her go home with someone else? But he gets suuuuper jealous about it and realises he wants more. I'll leave it up to you if Reader wants more too. Angsty jealous Billy though, am I right? Lmaooo (this is faulty-coding btw, hello 🖤)

"Commitment"

A/N: omg hi! I love your work so much I feel incredibly honoured that you chose me for this request! I hope you like it x This is also for this anon, I've combined the two requests since they were similar.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, slut-shaming, hurt-comfort, smut at the end

Word count: 3K +

Tags:@blackst0nes7077, @thefictionalgemini, @tarkanelima-blog

@pansysgirlfriend, @acciorudolphx @supernaturalcat7, @crazyclownchick (I don't know why it won't let me tag you)

To add yourself to my taglist, fill in this form.

NAVIGATION PAGE

"Hey, stranger." A familiar voice and then his familiar touch on your back before he sat in front of you.

"Hi, Billy."

"it's been a while," he mentioned casually while his eyes took you in.

It had been more than a while, actually. Last time you saw Billy had been over a week ago. Well, you hadn't really seen him, that was the problem.

Ever since you had started your "agreement" you'd drop by his office from time to time to surprise him. He had told you that he deeply enjoyed office sex while you had never had it. Needless to say, it soon became one of your favourite things.

And that was why that day, you were at Anvil. You hadn't told Billy that you were coming. It wouldn't have been a surprise then, would it? However, when you stepped in front of his door, just one touch away from opening it, you heard it.

Well, heard her actually.

It was Billy that ended up surprising you that day. You usually loved surprises but that one you would have gladly skipped.

Although it had taken you most of a week to come to this realisation, you realized that it was actually a good thing to happen. The thing you had with Billy wasn't labelled. It was fun but it wasn't serious. Despite the fact that you were friends and hang out with the same group, you had never committed to each other.

And you were honestly fine with it. You enjoyed your time with Billy, outside and under the sheets.

It had been months though and you hadn't wanted to acknowledge it but it wasn't enough anymore. Billy's role in your life was ambiguous. He was your friend sure, but one you'd have sex with. He wasn't your boyfriend but he was the one you'd spend the most of your time with, the one with whom you were intimate.

You wanted more, you realized. Enough with these half measures.

Billy will understand, you told yourself. He inwardly made it clear where he stands. Time to broaden your horizons.

And, as matter of fact, you had. It was true that the ocean is full of fish but you hadn't had a lot of luck with them before. Sure, Jake was nice. He was polite and nice. An overall good guy.

He was just lacking a... je ne sais quoi that made you unsure about it. But you were willing to give him a chance and so you kept going on dates with him.

Needless to say, you hadn't spoken to Billy since that impromptu visit to his office.

"Been busy," you offered him taking a sip of your beer. It was a lame excuse but you couldn't care less. Karen offered you some appetizers. You stared at them for a bit before shaking your head refusing them. Ignoring Karen's questioning look, you took another sip.

"Yeah, she's been busy alright." Frank's low chuckle came from the other end of the table.

"Meaning?" Billy asked, now curious about the implication seeing how your cheeks had suddenly turned red.

"She met someone," Karen chirped in, winking in your direction.

Mentally facepalming you, you swore them off. It wasn't the way you wanted Billy to find out. Not that you cared what he thought since he couldn't be bothered to be as transparent with you, but still. You hated being put on the spot.

"Has she now?" Billy's eyebrow arched and he gave you an amused look. But his jaw clenched and that gave him away.

"Not that it's any of your business. But yes, I have. His name's Jake, he's a nice guy." You explained briefly, ignoring the intensity of his stare.

"So you're that kind of person then." Leaning over the table, his voice took an edge he had never directed at you. "Ditching her friends as soon as she meets a guy?"

"You know that's not true." Narrowing your eyes at him you were almost offended by his institution if it wasn't for the fact that you knew that it was his bruised ego speaking.

"Tell that to my many unanswered calls on your phone."

"That's not on Jake," you scoffed taking a sip. His eyebrow arched while his hands gestured to you as if to say "do tell".

"Let's just say that I saw firsthand just how busy you keep yourself when I'm not around." You tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, you really did. But without success.

Billy's lips pursed in thought. You had no doubt that he had an inkling about what you meant but he couldn't figure out to what exactly you were referring to.

"So is this what it is? You being petty because I've been with someone else?"

"That's me wanting more for myself and taking it."

"If you were that insatiable, y/n, you should have just told me."

"Stop making me sound like a slut, Billy. That is not what this is about."

"Isn't it? Because that's exactly what this looks like to me."

Pursing your lips, you refused to show him just how much he had hurt you. Nodding your head you decided that you'd had enough. You did not have to sit here and take his bullshit.

"You know, Billy. Slut-shaming isn't a good look on you." Waving to your friends, you quickly told them that you had to go. An emergency you said. But they knew better, their eyes fixed on Billy as he watched you walk out of the bar. Hands tightening around the bottle of beer he had ordered, he stood up once you disappeared amongst the crowd.

Without bothering to explain himself to the group, he simply followed you outside.

"Y/n." He called your name once he saw that you were already a bit far from the bar. In a couple of quick strides, Billy had gotten to you since you had slowed down.

"Go away, Billy." you didn't bother to look at him.

"Wait, wait," he said gently taking hold of your arm to get you to stop. And you did but stared at his hand on you until he dropped it and took a step back. "Look I'm sorry, I was an asshole." he apologised.

You only nodded to show him that you understood him but didn't offer any words to assure him that you forgave him.

"And I'm sorry you had to find out about Madani that way." He added hoping to make things right between you.

"Don't worry, it was actually an awakening for me." You added briefly looking at him. Tone harsh and unapologetic. You were still too mad at him to care about being considerate of your voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it made me realize that this," you gestured between the two of you, "was not working out for me."

"Oh really?" now the word had lost every tint of disbelief it had before. It was more like he was challenging you. Like he didn't quite believe you.

"Yes." you stood your ground pushing your shoulders back, "I figured out that I want more. And I know that I'm not going to get that from you."

"It was good while it lasted though," you called over your shoulders as you turned, ready to get the hell away from him. But the words he said though, made you halt on your feet.

"Who said you're not going to get that with me?"

"That would require feeling something for me other than lust, Billy." you snicked not fully turning around to face him, just your head.

"Who says I don't?"

"Madani, maybe?"

"She doesn't mean anything, y/n." He scoffed rolling his eyes.

"Of course you'd say something like this, Billy. Doesn't help though." As if him admitting to having meaningless sex with other women could help his case. Men. Fully done with this conversation you gave him one last look before turning away again.

"I know why you didn't eat those appetizers before." Again, after a few steps, his voice made you stop. This time, the implication of what he meant, sat heavily on your shoulders making you tense. Still, you didn't turn around.

That didn't deter him though.

"I know that you love them but they remind you of your grandfather. He used to make sure there would always be some of those at home whenever you went to visit him. And I know you haven't eaten them since-"

He stopped when your head whipping to him, eyes glaring.

He was right. You knew it, he knew it. But him strumentalising your beloved grandfather's death to get through to you? That was low, even for Billy.

Not only it called for you to acknowledge out loud that your grandfather wasn't there anymore but it also surprised you because you didn't think anyone would notice something so small.

"What are you saying, Billy?" Eyes glossy, like everything someone mentioned him, you tried your best to not let your voice waver.

"What I'm saying is that I care about you, y/n. I care enough to notice things. The tiniest details that you don't even know are there. Like that every time you're reading and something bad happens, you press your hand on your chest over your heart, as if you wanted to stop the pain from coming or something. Or that you always cook whenever you miss your family even if you never say it out loud. Or-"

"I get it Billy." you raised a hand to stop him. "You're observant. I knew that. That's basically what you do for a living. Not counting that you're a fucking sniper."

"Maybe," he conceded slowly taking a step in your direction, "I notice things, that's true. That doesn't mean that I store them in my mind, though."

"I care about you, y/n. A great deal. Enough to notice all the little things that make you you and enough to memorize them."

"I don't know if I can believe you, Billy. If you cared you wouldn't be going around sleeping with other women. And I know-" you added when you saw his mouth open to protest- " I know that technically we weren't together but still Billy. A technicality is not going to earn you my trust." Shrugging your shoulders you opted for being honest with him. You had never lied to him and you certainly weren't going to start now. Billy had never lied to you either, not that you were aware. And even if this thought should have reassured you, you were still hesitant about believing him.

"Then give me a chance to do so. Let me prove to you just how much I care about you and how little I care about everything else." He insisted, taking another step and then another until he was in front of you. Hands on your jaw, he delicately craned your neck so that your eyes could meet.

The height difference had always been a reason for jokes among you. It was no secret that Billy had a slight size kink, at least not to you, and so more often than not he'd use that.

Thumb slowly caressing your jaw, his eyes flickered between yours. They were full of hope, of promises but there was also a lot of vulnerability. Billy was not the type to be so forthcoming about his feelings. The fact that he had been with you, on a side street nonetheless, was a demonstration on its own.

Sighing, you knew you needed to decide. Yes, hearing Billy having sex with another woman had hurt you but you were not together. While that didn't make it hurt any less, it made the situation slightly less grave. He hadn't cheated on you, not really. You hadn't told him you wanted more. Hell, before that you didn't even know that you wanted more.

And now that you knew, now that he knew as well, here he was promising it to you. He wanted to give you exactly what you wanted. So could you really say no to him?

Of course not.

"Alright."

"Yeah?" a big smile grew on his face, his eyes twinkling in joy.

"Yeah, I'm going to give you a chance. Only one, Billy. So you better not mess this up." Poking his chest with a finger you warned him that this time around, things were going to be different.

"You're not going to regret that, babe." His eyes held a solemn promise. Just briefly though because soon, they were back to their usual mischief. Billy leaned to you, his lips meeting yours in a small kiss.

At first.

He kissed you soundly, his mouth perfectly on yours, building his tempo slowly. Then, you felt his tongue on your lower lip and you knew that things were about to escalate quickly.

Not that you minded of course, but it was not appropriate to do what you had in mind in the middle of the street.

"Billy," you moaned slightly leaning back to warn him that you couldn't get too carried away.

"Call that Jim guy," his mouth peppered small kisses along your jaw, "tell him that it's over. That he never stood a chance," he moved down on your neck.

"Yes."

"Let's go home so that I can show you how much more I can give you."His mouth had trailed back up and stopped so that it was hovering over your ear. His voice was low and breathy and husky and fuck it sent a wave of pleasure right in between your legs.

------

No sooner had you stepped over your threshold than Billy's hands were on you. The door barely closed, he pushed you against it. His hands cradled your face, effectively keeping you holding you in place while his mouth ravished you.

You gladly let him do as he pleased. Mouth opening to welcome his tongue while your hands gripped his jacket to keep you steady.

"Billy," you whimpered his name as his lips left yours. You tried to follow them by getting on your tiptoes but he didn't let you. Chuckling, he gave you another small kiss.

"Yes. Remember that it's me that it's making you feel this good. Me. Not Jim or whatever his name is, not anyone else. Me." He growled on your lips while one of his hands gripped the hair at the nape of your neck making you gasp.

Staring at his glowing dark pits you couldn't do anything other than nodding feverishly. You were at his mercy. Completely. And Billy knew that and it did nothing but please him to no end.

You'd always enjoyed whenever Billy was rough with you but him being jealous and kinda possessive too? Game changer.

Smirking at your reaction, his hands moved lower on your body until they hatched behind your knees pulling you up. Biting your lower lip, he swallowed your whimper for the friction once you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Billy didn't waste any more time, in quick long strides he was in your bedroom and threw you on the bed. You'd almost giggled when you bounced on it if it wasn't for the savage look in Billy's eyes.

Fuck, he looked so sexy. A sin.

For a moment, he just stared at you laid there waiting for him. A hand quickly wiped his face before he unbuckled his pants. Now it was your turn to stare at him. More like ogle but you knew he didn't mind.

Shedding his pants, he crawled over you until his face levelled yours.

"I'm going to give you exactly what you want. And then some more." He promised, nipping your earlobe. "You're never going to feel the need to look for other guys."

"There's no one else I'd rather be with, Billy."

Your hands trailed over his still clothed back before tangling his always perfectly styled hair. "Only you." You whispered in his ear.

If it wasn't for your hand on his back, you would have missed him tensing. "Say it again," he demanded, his head still in the crook of your neck.

"You're the only one I want, Billy." You repeated knowing fully well how he struggled with accepting love and affection. This meant to him just as much as it did to you. He was giving you the promise of commitment but so were you. And despite the fact that you had already been loyal to him, you knew how important it was for him to hear the words.

"There's no one else for me either, y/n. Never was, never will be." He raised his head to say this. It was a confirmation, yes, but it also felt so much more coming from him.

He had been telling you how much he cared about you since you left the bar but somehow, him saying it again now held more meaning.

"You promise?"

You felt childish and it was probably pathetic of you to ask him again. But this was you being vulnerable, letting him know that you needed him. And you trusted Billy.

"You're mine." He said instead. One of his hands coming to cradle the back of your head while the other closed around your right breast.

"And I'm yours."

And here it was, the promise, the reassurance you needed. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss. It was wet and more teeth and tongue than anything but it was passionate. You were claiming each other.

Not separating your lips, he used his hands to get rid of your clothes. While he unbuckled your pants, you took his shirt off. Him doing the same with yours while you pushed his brief down on his legs.

Once you were completely naked, Billy crawled back over you. His hands resting at the sides of your head. He was everywhere. You could feel him between your legs, your arms wrapped around his back, your vision field occupied by his beautiful face.

He was everywhere, he was everything.

"And now, I'm going to leave no room for doubt in your mind anymore." He whispered on your lips, his cock rubbing over your slit teasing you about what was to come.

You had asked him for a commitment and fuck if he didn't commit to it. All night long.

[starport-seven-five]

Unconventional Writer Asks

I was tagged by @bushs-world and like the original post says, as a writer I will never not want to talk about my writing 😆

— How long have you been writing fanfiction?

On and off for nearly twenty years now!!

— Do you have a favorite word? (One that you love. Doesn’t necessarily have to be one you use all the time.)

I'm not sure about my favorite, but I do know I use the word 'exquisite' entirely too much, especially in my smut fics. I think you would be hard-pressed to find one where I didn't use it at least once.

— Share a favorite run-on sentence that you’ve written.

Oh, no. This is actually SO difficult because all of my fics are just collections of run-on sentences 🤣 But I'll pick this one, from my fic Nothing But Time:

That this man, who in reality was nothing more than ordinary and mortal, had taken the time to open him up, peeling back layer after layer, exposing him, digging deep, reaching down inside and holding his heart in his hands; that he had done all of that and seen him laid bare, seen all of him, and had stayed, had asked him to stay, had deemed him worthy; that for some reason, Loki had let him, had felt him chipping away at his defenses and allowed it; had offered up his heart for the taking and felt it safer, even, in Mobius’s hands than in his own. 

— Share a bit of a scene that you’ve written that still gives you FEELS.

From my very short Lokius reunion fic Hang Onto Your Variant:

“It’s you,” Loki whispers against Mobius’s lips, one trembling hand reaching up to touch the side of a slightly-stubbled cheek, drawing him just the tiniest bit closer.

“It is,” breathes Mobius, his fingers just brushing the side of Loki’s chin, as if he’s afraid to press too hard, like Loki might just disintegrate beneath his touch, another tentative dream shattered. 

Their lips brush, both pairs of eyes falling shut, wet lashes fluttering. Loki’s fingers slip through the shaggy hair at the base of Mobius’s neck; it’s grown longer in his absence, he’s noticed. 

“You’re here,” murmurs Mobius, the hand resting on Loki’s shoulder gripping tighter.

“I am,” Loki mumbles, leaning in to press their lips together again, more firmly this time. 

This is happening. 

And they breathe, foreheads pressed close, and  moving closer, and closer still, until they stand holding one another in a tight embrace.

Nothing disintegrates, nothing crumbles.

It’s real. 

— What is your favorite kind of character interaction to write? — Do you have a hyper-specific genre?

I guess a 'genre' specific to me is snarky cooking? LOL. IYKYK.

— Any personal or frequently used tags?

'Sadistic Sex Goddess Sylvie,' and 'yes I made another bit of both reference and no I'm not sorry' are both mine :)

— Share a joke or funny moment that you’ve written that still makes you laugh.

From my IKEA crack fic, Furniture Shopping:

“You said we had to be respectful- and it was a very respectful stepping-on!” Loki argued. 

“So respectful!” insisted Sylvie. 

“And we chose the most secluded spot!  I mean, it was here, or over there-” Loki nodded toward the direction of the cafeteria- “right in front of the salad!  And knowing how you feel about that, we thought we were making the responsible choice.”

“Let’s go.” Mobius used his TVA-Agent-I-Mean-Business-Voice, which almost never failed to work on Loki, at least, and they both sighed, Sylvie rolling her eyes as well, and crawled out of the tiny doorway after him.  The few who were left in the crowd seemed immediately drawn to the gargantuan bulge in Loki’s trousers, staring unapologetically, some with mouths gaping.

“We’re still getting the cake, right?” asked Sylvie.

— Best editing tip?

I am probably not the person to ask about this!! Someone once said there's basically two kinds of ways people write- editing as you go, and just putting everything down in the moment and then going back through to edit afterward. I'm definitely the former. I obsess over each sentence individually and scrutinize and make changes before I move on to another. I do, however, find it much easier for me to edit on my phone than on a computer screen, because that's how I read fic and my brain can go into "reading mode" with it.

— What drives you to write?

The fic brain never stops. Ever. These characters live inside my brain and just scream things at me until I write them down.

— Share something about your writing that you have wished someone would ask you about. Or alternatively, something that you are just really proud of.

I'm still shocked and tickled that I managed to pull off a multi-chapter fic. I love hearing people's thoughts on it, and talking anyone's ear off about it.

— Where do you draw inspiration?

Sometimes I really don't know. It's fun to think on it. I did actually list all of my inspirations for one fic, and it turned out to be a VERY oddly specific line from Harry Potter, a panic attack I had like ten years ago, a scene from someone else's fic, and a small detail from another fic of my own. Sometimes it's like that and it's kind of funny!

— What is your immediate reaction when you receive a new comment on a fic?

HAPPY DANCE!!!

— What is your biggest challenge in writing?

Balancing it with real life 😭

— 1-2 sentence preview from your current WIP?? (Only if you are willing.)

I just recently shared a WIP snippet!

— What story or scene are you most proud of?

I really don't think I could choose one! One fic I love, but it's very unusual and has gotten very little exposure, is Parts of one whole [Sylkius, soft E for nonexplicit kink]

— Please link your profile so we can admire your works!

[sukiglycerin]

it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request:  Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern. 

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn’t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room. 

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat. 

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans. 

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one. 

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink. 

“mighty boom,” he mumbles. 

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.” 

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale. 

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later. 

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser. 

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work. 

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart. 

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again. 

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue. 

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days. 

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Truth or Dare

Hi guys! This is a oneshot in which the (female) reader is stationed at an WLF outpost and joined by Abby for a work assignment. They become roommates and the reader starts to develop feelings for Abby but isn’t sure if they’re reciprocated until a night of truth or dare with friends reveals more than Abby intended.

It was inspired by this picture of angry/confused Abby with her hair down shared in the Abby Simp Society Discord server (message me or @theenglishmonster​ if you’re interested in joining!). Sadly I couldn’t find the editor anywhere, so let me know if you know who I should credit!

4.4k words, a little angst + smut 

content warnings: alcohol consumption, smut, mention of sex in public, derogatory language (if you need me to tag anything else let me know)

feedback is very welcome, enjoy!

Truth or Dare  

You were laying in the bottom bunk of the bed you had shared with your fellow WLF Abby for the last month. She had been restationed to your outpost and there had only been a few empty bunks left. You had enjoyed having your own room before, even if it was tiny and fitted only two metal locker cabinets and the bed, as well as a small table and chair in front of the 5th story window. As your outpost didn’t allow men and women to share rooms unless they were married, Abby and her patrol partner Manny had to split up when they arrived. 

The tall blonde made quite the impression on you; she was always composed and stone-faced, standing straight and towering above most of the other soldiers. The first days you two hadn’t talked much, she had taken the empty top bunk and one of the lockers without complaining and told you that you wouldn’t have to take up with her for long. 

After two weeks, she had come in angry and breathing heavily, kicking the bedpost and sinking down next to you on the bottom bunk, putting her head in her hands. Isaac had sent a man named Owen to pull Manny off the job and stay at this post with Abby for the next three months. She had reluctantly begun to tell you about their dynamic, how Owen was her ex boyfriend and Manny had been the only good friend she had in this place. You had felt sorry for her and invited her to come along for some game nights with your friends. She had slowly warmed up to you and was extremely grateful for being able to spend time with you instead of Owen, who had found himself some friends with the hooch experts. 

This night was going to be different. One of your friends had managed to trade some home grown mushrooms for the outpost’s best hooch and suggested to play truth or dare. After some reluctancy on Abby’s side, everyone agreed and you sat down in a circle. After the first few sips it suddenly became very clear to you how close Abby was sitting next to you, her left knee touching your right ever so slightly. From that point on, you couldn’t concentrate on anything else but that tiny, sweet, hot spot where your bodies connected. 

You had kept your distance from the soldier, sensing that she was not the type of person who enjoyed physical contact with people she didn’t trust completely. Still, you had often thought about what it must be like to sink your head onto the stronger woman’s broad chest and be wrapped into her arms, feeling so small and secure in her embrace. You had pushed the idea away, seeing as Abby was more trustful and open with you now but still kept some doors closed, some parts of her hidden away beneath that perfectly smooth face that rarely showed what was going on behind it.

Nina, a younger girl who had just completed a dare to perform her favorite song for the group, smiled warmly at Abby. “Your turn!” Abby had started to relax and you really liked seeing this loosened up, smiling version of her enjoying herself with your friends. She picked truth. 

“How do you like your roommate?” Abby tried to stifle a grin but then she just laughed out loud and your heart felt like it was going to combust. She looked at you and placed her hand on your knee for a second, then seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly put her hands in her lap. “I gotta be honest with you, when I came here I just wanted to get this job over with and leave as fast as possible. That’s why I didn’t even attempt to make any friends or get to know Y/N. But when Manny left, it was extremely kind of Y/N to just take me in and introduce me to all of you, which she was by no means obligated to after I was so cold to her at first.” Abby turned her gaze towards you. “I’d actually count you among my close friends.” 

There was a gleam in her eye as she said it and a part of you just wanted to jump on her and kiss every inch of her face for being so open and unapologetic and cute in front of everyone. You restrained yourself and just beamed at her, internally looking forward to going to your room later and talking all night. Only talking of course. The images that shot through your mind, of Abby throwing you on the bed and crawling on top of you, of pulling that braid you had never seen her take out, of her fingers at your throat and in your mouth, you quickly fought them down and cleared your throat.

It was now Abby’s turn to ask, but surprisingly she didn’t choose you. She dared a guy who had made jokes about being stronger than her earlier to arm wrestle her so everyone quickly put together a table and two chairs for the contestants. It was a quick match. Abby let him struggle a little bit, then she gave you the faintest smile and slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump to her with congratulations and more alcohol. When she sat down again next to you, she made sure to sit exactly like she had before, your knees touching lightly. A wave of affection and pride rushed over you. This was your friend, the woman who had just told everyone how much she liked you. You looked into her eyes to find that feeling in her too, that unconditional warmth and that want for more, a spark of the fire that could erupt at any moment if any of you dared to ignite it. It was like looking into a mirror - there was something fierce in her gaze, drawing you in and telling you to just wait until you two were alone.

When it came to the defeated wrestler’s turn next, he unexpectedly picked you. You were wondering what he was going to want from you when you saw that Aaron, the dark-haired, handsome man who had organized the drinking night, straightened up and winked at his buddy. After you warily picked dare, he shot immediately: “I dare you to kiss Aaron.” While some of the others whooped or giggled, Abby stiffened next to you and changed her position. The spot on your knee that had just been buzzing with electricity from her touch now felt strangely cold and numb.

You gave the triumphant Aaron a defeated half-smile and got up to go around the circle and kneel down next to him. The rules were the rules, you weren’t going to cop out on a kiss and embarrass yourself, as much as you just wanted to grab Abby’s hand and flee. As you looked at Aaron, you could see Abby out of the corner of your eye, looking away with a strange look on her face - was it anger? Sadness? Maybe she just thought the dare was childish. You went in for a quick kiss, but Aaron grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in, kissing you hard until you finally managed to break free. The first thing you saw was Abby’s face; she looked absolutely furious. 

Suddenly the door flew open and you jumped to your feet at the sound. “Well, what’s going on in here? Was that a full on makeout session?” 

Of all people, it had to be Owen taking the first step through the door, opening up his arms, bottle in one hand, and grinning in your face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t you have a little room left for three more players?” Two of his friends came in behind him, also lightly swaying from the alcohol they must have had beforehand. You felt yourself blush bright red and freeze, not able to say a word. 

Right in that moment, something brushed your arm and before you could register what was going on, Abby had stormed out of the room, almost knocking Owen over with a shove of her shoulder as she passed him. By the time you had gathered yourself she was long gone. 

“Well, someone clearly didn’t enjoy themselves. More room for us!” Owen tried to sound lighthearted but you could hear that he was a little shaken by the confrontation. Him and Abby had had to work together a few times during the last weeks and they had kept it professional; this came unexpected. 

You pulled yourself together. “I’m off too, I’ve had enough of that awful brew.” Before Owen had the time to be offended, you had slipped past him and closed the door behind you. After rounding the corner with a few quick steps, you leaned your back against the wall and took a deep breath. Too much had happened in the last few hours. Where was Abby? What was going on between the two of you? You decided to head back to your shared room, hoping she would be there.

When you opened the door, Abby was leaning against the desk with her arms folded, staring at you distractedly from underneath furrowed brows. As she registered you being there, she straightened up and dropped her gaze to the floor. 

You were at a loss for words. Part of you just wanted to go to her and kiss her, tell her it was okay and that she shouldn’t worry about Owen or Aaron or any other idiot trying to come between you. On the other hand, she seemed on edge, angry and disappointed, and you didn’t want to make the situation worse by overstepping any boundaries. Maybe you should have had given her some time alone before barging in like this; after all, this was the only safe space she had in the outpost. 

You made the decision to leave it up to her. “Do you want me here right now? Or do you need some time alone? I’m sorry that the night ended like this, I didn’t know he was going to come.”

Abby looked at you with such sadness in her eyes that your heart dropped. “I don’t care about Owen. Whatever, you don’t get it. I’m going to shower, I can’t go to bed smelling like alcohol and sweat. You can stay here, I don’t mind. It’s your room after all.” And with that, she grabbed her towel from the bunk bed and was out the door. 

You sank onto your bed with an exhausted sigh. “You don’t get it,” that had been a stab right at your heart. How could you possibly understand what was going on in Abby’s head when she never fucking talked to you about anything? How were you supposed to make a move or tell her how you felt when she looked at you with those thick stone walls almost visible behind her eyes, never letting anyone in? Of course it was the right thing to be cautious and not trust anyone too quickly, people regularly lied and cheated to get what they wanted here and the WLF was certainly not as tightly-knitted and honorable as Isaac would like it to be. But you had been nothing but kind and understanding to Abby, showing her every day that she could feel safe with you and trust you, introducing her to everyone and telling her your secrets and worries every night before bed. Today had been the first time she ever opened up about her feelings and the night had to be ruined by two stupid, insensitive, drunk men. 

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the steps outside the door. Abby came in, wearing one of her token black cutoffs and grey sweatpants she had brought back from a recent protection run. She had given you a smaller pair, still wrapped in plastic and completely new, without any holes or dirt on it. You were so distracted by the pants that you didn’t notice until Abby had crossed the room and hung her towel over the chair at the desk - her hair was down! It was still drying from the shower, long dark blonde strands falling over her shoulders and down her back leaving wet spots on the cotton fabric of her shirt. The soldier usually braided it while it was still wet so as to keep it extremely neat and in its form, meaning you never got to see anything else. She kept her hands on the chair and looked out the window, down onto the small square in front of the building where the night patrol was just heading out the gate. 

“Your hair is down.” Wow, insightful commentary from your big brain. You wanted to smack yourself across the face; instead you got up and took a step towards her. She took a deep breath and turned around. 

“I snapped my hair tie in the shower. I’ll find something else to tie it with tomorrow. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

With pleading eyes she silently asked you to let it go, not talk about it and act like nothing happened tomorrow. But you knew it was going to be different if you didn’t talk about it now. She would become distant again and you wouldn’t get another chance at cracking her shell. 

“What was that about earlier? When Owen came in?”

She immediately leaned away from you and crossed her arms, her usual defense mechanism setting in. “I told you, I don’t want to do this now. You know he’s my ex and I just didn’t want to deal with him right now. The evening was going well until…”

“Until what? You work with him all the time, what’s the big deal all of a sudden? I get that you don’t wanna party with him but you could have told me and we could have left without attracting this much attention. Aaron just invited us to have a nice evening and I couldn’t even say goodbye to him properly!”

The mention of Aaron lit a fire in Abby’s eyes, her face forming into a mask of pure disgust and rage. She straightened up to her full height and glared down at you. “Aaron is a piece of shit! Using some stupid children’s game to get a girl to kiss him instead of having the balls to do it himself.” You opened your mouth for an answer but she cut you off. “What, did you actually enjoy kissing him? That grimy little macho? I guess I was wrong about a lot of things then.”

The Wolf wanted to rush past you like she had done to Owen earlier but you grabbed her by her upper arm and leaned into her with your full weight. She stopped dead in her tracks and her bicep flexed underneath your grasp as she jerked back her arm, staring at you with a mixture of hurt and confusion. 

“Listen to me! I’ve known Aaron for a long time and I know he’s had a crush on me for a long time. I always shut him down and tried to prevent hurting his feelings because I don’t feel the same for him, you hear that? I’m not into him, I just wanted to play the game and give him this one kiss because he’s not getting another one ever again and he knows it.”

Abby had shrunk down at your tirade and leaned against the frame of the bed, watching you questioningly. 

“Abby, I have adored you ever since you set foot in this room and I don’t care if this is going to ruin everything, I’ve had enough. Every time you’re in the same room I can’t concentrate because all I see is you! Tonight you opened up to me for the first time and I was the happiest I have been in a long time. Why won’t you understand that I won’t hurt you, I won’t betray you, Abby, I want you!”

You were practically spitting out the words now, your voice cracking as tears started to build in your eyes and threatened to come rushing down your cheeks. With an angry wipe of your wrist you banned them from your face and stared into Abby’s eyes. She seemed to be processing what you had just said, arms hanging down her sides and no longer on guard for you and the world. 

You sighed and let your shoulders drop. “That’s all you need to know. Now you can go to sleep.”

Suddenly there was movement. Abby rushed towards you, slamming you against the wall behind you and pressing her lips to yours. She tasted like mint and the faint aroma of liquor lingering between both of you after drinking all night, but now you could smell her for the first time. Sometimes when Abby had walked past you, she had left a tiny cloud of her musk, smelling like wood, faint sweat and something you couldn’t quite place. Now you could immediately tell it was pine, meaning the badass soldier actually spent a lot of trading goods just for the special WLF base pine soap and you weren’t complaining.

You ran your fingers through her damp hair and felt her shudder underneath your hands, drawing back her head ever so slightly to look at you. She laid a rough, calloused hand on your cheek with utmost care and gentleness, wiping away a single tear that had escaped with her thumb and then softly caressing your bottom lip. 

“Is that okay?” Her words were only a quiet breath against your skin, the warmth of her hands almost making you melt like wax underneath her touch. You answered by pulling her in for another kiss, quickly running the tip of your tongue over her closed lips and making her fall into you. You let out a tiny whine and she flinched, releasing you immediately. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, I can be thoughtless sometimes.” 

You stepped forward and grabbed her by the hem of her worn down shirt. “You didn’t hurt me, Abby. Come with me.”

Stepping around her, you crouched back into the bunk bed and threw her an inviting smile. She reacted immediately, crawling into the small space and on top of you, coming down on her elbows left and right of your shoulders and placing one knee between your legs. Your next kiss was more heated than the ones before, her tongue daring to push against yours and mix her mint flavour with the alcohol on yours. She finally dropped some of her weight on you, grinding her thigh against you and making you gasp into her mouth, your eyes flying open to reveal a malicious smile on the blonde’s lips. You hadn’t even noticed the bloodflow to the space between your hips and your heightened sensitivity almost made your vision go blank for a second.

Abby continued to press her thigh between your legs while attacking your throat with kisses you would definitely still see the remains of in the morning but you didn’t mind. You just wanted to be even closer to her, grabbing a fistful of her beautiful long hair and pulling her head back, making her groan and dig her nails into your shoulder. 

“You like that, baby? Take your shirt off for me.” Her eyes widened at your commanding tone, but she obliged immediately, pulling the cutoff over her head and tossing it into the corner, then returning to your neck with an even stronger passion. She grabbed your breast with one hand, squeezing it while biting into the skin on your throat, sucking hard and following the trail of marks she had left with the tip of her tongue. You could hardly stifle your whimpers anymore and decided to gain the upper hand again, pulling your foot up and bending your knee in order to squeeze your thigh against her crotch. She collapsed on top of you and moaned into your neck, mumbling curses as she got back onto her forearms and laid her forehead against yours, slowly grinding back against your thigh.

You held the back of her head with one hand and started to gently drag the fingers of the other one along Abby’s jaw, her throat and collarbones, drawing circles around her breast and slowly coming to a point at her nipple, teasing and lightly pinching it and making the heavy woman on top of you whimper into your ear while keeping the friction between both of your bodies. As your hand moved lower, exploring her toned stomach, you wound a few strands of her hair around your other hand and finally arrived at the hem of her sweatpants. You slowly pulled the string and brushed a finger along the line where skin and fabric met. The blonde instinctively lifted her hips up and allowed you to slide your hand inside, finding nothing underneath but soft curls and burning hot skin. You let your fingers wander deeper and they were instantly met with hot, slick wetness, making you moan in surprise and slide your fingers along Abby’s folds, instantly covering them in her juices. 

Abby let out a quiet sob next to your ear. “Please don’t tease me Y/N, I’m so close already.”

You pulled her head back and made her look at you, giving her a half-pitying, half-devilish look. “Poor Abby, are so needy you almost came into your pants just from riding my thigh? I don’t know if I should even let you cum, needy whores need to be put in their place. I should ride your face first and then maybe I’ll think about it.”

The soldier had given in completely; Abby was a whimpering mess on top of you, her wetness running down your wrist and her hips desperately bucking forward into your hand, trying to regain some form of friction. “Please Y/N, I’ll be good, I’ll do everything you want, please, please touch me!”

Satisfied, you pushed two fingers inside her, sinking them in entirely and feeling her contract around you as she gasped and went wide-eyed, staring down at you in ecstasy and opening her mouth in a silent scream. You slowly started to move your fingers in and out of her, stroking that tender spot inside her that made her thighs twitch and her eyes roll back into her head. Wanting to pick up the pace, she began to roll her hips back onto your fingers and fought herself back up on her hands, gazing at you through half-closed eyes and strands of hair falling into her face.

“That’s a good girl, riding my fingers like a little whore.” Abby let out a grunt of protest but didn’t stop, sitting up straight and leaning back, placing her hands on your legs to keep her balance. You took the opportunity to pull her pants down to her thighs, revealing dark, shining curls and ivory skin. After taking in the view for a moment you decided it was time to give her what she wanted, placing the pad of your thumb on the spot that had been waiting for any attention from you until now. As you touched the small mound, Abby gasped and shifted her hips forward, losing her rhythm as you slowly rotated your thumb around the pulsing spot. 

She took a deep breath and then slammed down onto your fingers mercilessly, riding your fingers with an unhinged expression in her eyes, her face and breasts gleaming with a thin layer of sweat and strands of hair sticking to her skin as her moans got louder and louder. You joined her rhythm, thrusting your hips up and rubbing her clit as you felt her convulse around your fingers and tremble uncontrollably, catching her shoulder and guiding her down to you as she caved in and lost all strength in those beautiful, now useless muscles. You helped her get rid of the sweatpants entirely, the wet spots in the fabric making being naked the more comfortable option. Abby cuddled up close to you and softly kissed the hickeys she had left on your neck earlier. 

You smiled down at her and brushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling?” The blonde sighed and buried her face in your neck. “Like I need another shower.” She lifted her head, a new thought gleaming behind her eyes. “You think anyone is still up?” 

You snorted. “You probably woke up half the hallway. But I don’t think any of them will use the showers in the next few hours, if that’s what you’re playing at.” You knew that Abby hated going to bed dirty or sweaty, she always showered before bed and when she came back from longer missions she wouldn’t even bother to talk to anyone until she was in a clean set of clothes.

Abby pulled your face toward hers and gave you a long, loving kiss. “Of course you can sit on my face first if you want to. I was just thinking of forcing you to be quiet, fucking you against the wall under the hot shower until you can’t stand anymore and making you sit on my shoulders and cum on my face there. I’ll even carry you back here and get us some early breakfast.”

Her words had the desired effect, making you squirm involuntarily and press your thighs together in an attempt to calm yourself. “Fine, who could say no to that? But only if we use your fancy pine soap.”

Abby looked at you in surprise. “You caught that? Well, I like to allow myself that one luxury if I have the means to get it.” She jumped out of the bunk, gave the sweatpants on the floor a kick underneath the bed and threw on a big shirt full of holes along with some boxers, then she gallantly reached out her hand to help you up. You grabbed both of your towels and the small box containing the soap and gave the blonde waiting by the door a peck on the lips. 

“Carry me there, too?” 

She rolled her eyes and crouched down a little so you could put an arm around her shoulder, swooped you up bridal style and carried you out the door.

[gunterfan1992]

Interview with Half Shy (the songwriter of “Monster”)

For the last few months, I’ve been collecting information for a second edition of Exploring the Land of Ooo that will also cover the production of Distant Lands. This means that I’ve started to look into the new songs that we have been graced with this year, and this of course includes “Monster,” the beautiful track from the masterpiece that is “Obsidian”. And so I reached out to the song’s writer, Half Shy, who was kind enough to chat with me via email about the songwriting process!

(Photo courtesy of Half Shy)

In many ways, Half Shy is living the creative Adventure Time fan’s dream: She got asked by Adam Muto himself to write a song for “Obsidian” after he heard her music through Bandcamp! (I’ve dabbled in fan music before, and the fact that someone from the show might listen to it just blows my mind.) What an opportunity; I am so excited for her!

Since a second edition of my book won’t be coming out until after all the Distant Lands episodes air, I thought it would be best to share my Half Shy interview now. Read on for the fascinating behind the scenes story of how Half Shy and “Monster” came to be..

GunterFan: What is your origin story? How did you get involved in music, and how did the Half Shy project come to be?

Half Shy: I’ve been making music pretty quietly since I was in high school with a keyboard and guitar. I played one or two shows a year after college when I could find a friend or my brother to get up on stage with me, but I don’t really have that performer gene in me naturally. I get too much in my head and forget what the lyrics are to the song I wrote, or what the next chord is. Total brain freeze. So that whole experience is a bit of a mental drain. It’s something I think I’d like to dig into and figure out, but right now I’m really enjoying the time writing.

Even playing a song for my friends I still get pretty nervous. That’s where the name Half Shy comes from. I’ve always been interested in making things that by their nature draw a bit of a spotlight, but at the same time, I am just really quite nervous about the attention.

I recorded my first songs under my old name Hey V Kay in my bedroom and started putting them up online one at a time. When I got enough I thought about packaging it up into an album, but then got really distracted by learning how to fix up motorcycles and going to automotive tech school. When I eventually got back around to it I named the album Gut Wrenching.

After a few years I realized that I didn’t want the day-in-day-out life of a mechanic, I just wanted to know how to fix cars for myself and to have that knowledge in my back pocket. I got back into making music but grew frustrated at the process of writing and recording songs. I felt like I wasn’t able to capture the ideas I had in my head. Like trying to draw on your computer with a mouse. Doable, but it’s not going to come out like you’d hoped.

So these last couple of years I’ve focused more on learning the technical aspect of it, from the initial ideas and lyrics, to the recording and mixing. During that process I put out Bedroom Visionaries, and while writing I happened upon the name Half Shy in an old Thesaurus which felt instantly right. Learning all of that has been fun, I even went as far as to create my own book to solidify a daily writing routine (lyricworkbook.com). All that has been a bit of a tangent from actually making much music though. I should be getting my books in December from the press so I’m really looking forward to getting back into making more music instead of dealing with printing presses, setting up websites, and sourcing ribbon suppliers.

GF: What is the story behind "Monster"? How did the show get in contact with you?

HS: I keep a log of “Song Starters” with neat things I’ve heard in the world, and I would look through it every now and then and notice just how many came from Adventure Time. Eventually I thought well, I have to make a song about this show that just keeps breaking my heart. It was around the time I was nearly done with the first [Adventure Time-inspired] song “In My Element” that I got an email from Bandcamp saying “someone bought your album (Bedroom Visionaries).”

I get maybe one or two of these a month at most so I love to go in and say hi to the person and say thanks, be curious about who they are, [and] what they’re all about. Turns out it was Adam Muto, the executive producer of the show. (I asked and he has no idea how he happened upon my stuff. He guessed that I must have tagged something #adventuretime and he just happened to see it.) So I sent him an email saying, “Hey wow thanks for checking out my tunes. Also... holy crap you’ve made the best show I have ever seen in my life.” [I] played it real cool like. After finishing up writing my second [Adventure Time-inspired] song “Betty” I couldn’t help but fangirl real hard [and I sent him another message saying], “I’m sorry this is probably awkward, but I really love your show and I wrote these songs about it.” He was incredibly kind and shared them with his Twitter Universe, and a while after that I got a random email from him saying basically, “Hey, I’m working on this thing I can’t talk about, would you be interested?” I was like… well you know I’m pretty busy working at a sign shop so I’m gonna have to pass on this once in a lifetime opportunity (J/K. Obviously I fan-girl squealed and said yes immediately).

We chatted a bit about what the project was going to be and the direction. He mentioned there [would be] two Marceline songs in the special, [and he asked if I] would I be interested in giving the love song a try? Trying real hard to suppress my instant imposter syndrome I was like, “Yea, totally I’d be into giving that a shot!” So I read through the story and loved the idea of the dragon mirrored in Marceline, thinking through how they’ve both built up a protective shell, how she grew tough for a reason, but now she can open up and be vulnerable with PB.

From there I wrote the initial demo with the first two verses mostly intact and we went back and forth a few times editing it down into the final version. I recorded the final parts for the show in my little home studio in Seattle.

GS: When you were writing the song, what emotions, thoughts, or ideas were you channeling? Was there any sort of memory of event that you were trying to artistically "catch" or "recreate" with the lyrics or music?

HS: As far as channeling an emotion, generally I’d say just the experience of existing as a human. It can be so hard to open up and be vulnerable. I can remember that feeling even as a young kid—getting really excited about something and having someone completely trash it or look at you like, “Why are you so interested in that? It’s dumb.” [It causes us to grow] a little more weary to share ourselves because we know that hurt and embarrassment. The pain of being misunderstood is something I think a lot of us can relate to. Then having to decide whether to keep sharing those vulnerable parts of yourself or think, “They’re just not going to get it, I’m going to get hurt, so why bother?” and then stop putting yourself out there. You lose a lot with that thick armor though. You might feel protected, but you’re not feeling a whole lot of anything else other than the weight and chafing of it (I had a whole lot of armor-related metaphors that I didn't end up using.).

I struggle with this in songwriting too. I’m not the bolt-of-lightning type. There are pages and pages of cliches, total garbage, bad jokes, and cheesy lines that I have to get through in order to get to something that I am excited to put out there into the world: “Here I did this thing, I know it’s a little (this or that), but I made it... What do you think?” It’s hard to open yourself up to hearing the other end of that question.

I filled about 5 little pocket notebooks just thinking through the story, ideas, and trying to get this song right. I wanted it to feel familiar and honor the past songs of the show ([e.g.,] using the ukulele and referencing a few of the familiar chords from “I’m Just Your Problem”) but also be pretty open and vulnerable and different for [Marceline]. [I wanted to] show that she’s going through some tough emotions but also figuring herself out and growing.

GF: I feel like “Monster” is, at its core, an ode to the “Bubbline” ship. How do you feel about your song being intimately connected to one of the most famous LGBTQ+ relationships in animation? Do you have any general thoughts on Marcy and PB, Bubbline, etc.?

HS: Oh, I’m a total fan girl of Bubbline. The whole story of how Rebecca Sugar and Muto slowly morphed it into this deeper relationship is just great. As a part of the LGBTQ community myself it really means so much to see the representation of characters like yourself portrayed in an intelligent way. Growing up I was too young to fully understand what was going on but I saw Ellen getting cancelled, and [I] heard people around me saying they’d never watch her show again after she came out. That stuff sinks in as a kid and so to have these characters who are not only intelligent, but funny, complex, and unapologetically strong who also happen to be queer is really great. I love that the story here isn’t about their orientation, but that they’re people struggling with how to be open and vulnerable in a relationship.

It feels like something sci-fi and animated shows do so well—to show that ridiculousness of limiting who a person should and shouldn’t love. Marceline is a 1000+ year old half-demon/vampire and PB was born from the Mothergum of an apocalyptic radioactive world, but you’re going to get hung up on them loving each other? It sort of brings it into perspective in a really interesting way.

GF: Do you have any other thoughts about the experience that you'd like to share?

HS: Just how lucky, thankful, and honored I feel to be a part of my favorite show, writing a song for one of my favorite characters. It’s also incredibly cool how the people on the show are so willing to connect and collaborate with their fandom. Everyone [on the production crew] was very open and a real joy to work with.

I’d like to give a huge “Thank you!” to Half Shy for agreeing to participate in this interview; she really was quite amiable! If you’d like to hear more of her music, check out her website and her Bandcamp. You can also follow her on Instragram here and on Twitter here. And of course, here is Half Shy’s awesome video of “Monster”.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 8

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

Guys, I’m so sorry its taken me so long to get this chapter out. My muse abandoned me and my laptop was being weird. But here we are! Let me know what you think!

Tag List: @happyveday​ @alwaysindecemberfeels​ @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes​ @saritanotserena​

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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The sunrise lit up the morning sky with an array of beautiful, pastel colors. Anna could only hope it was a good sign for the day. She rubbed a hand over her tired eyes as she carefully walked over the rubble on the city's streets, dodging icy puddles and mud. Gene was going to be quite upset with her later, but she tried not to think about that now. 

 Quickly, she hurried up the creaky steps of the old two-story home. It looked similar to most of the other buildings but its door was dirty and faded red with a rickety looking porch only half standing. She made a mental note to thank Boyd for his surprisingly clear directions, otherwise she knew she would have been wandering for a while and on these streets, that was far from safe. As quietly as possible, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. She had been invited here, actually forced to come here if Boyd's look yesterday said anything, but she still felt like an invader. The idea of setting foot inside the men's barracks was something her mind fervently refused to acknowledge; it just was not even a possibility in her mind. Though this building was not technically an army barrack in the literal sense, she still felt like an intruder because it was sleeping/housing quarters for the men. 

 Her grandmother would be furious if she ever found out Anna entered the men's quarters…. especially letting herself in. The thought tampered down Anna's nerves slightly as she thought of the horrified look on the elderly woman's face, if she ever discovered this. It lightened her mood for a brief moment. 

 In the room to her left, a soldier sprawled on a mangy looking couch with an arm thrown over his eyes. If she had not been able to see his chest rising and falling, she would have gone to check his pulse for how still he was otherwise. In that same room another soldier sat in a high-backed chair with his head tipped back, eyes closed and snoring like a chainsaw. Not recognizing either man, she guessed they were from one of the other tank crews. The sounds of movement and soft talking to her right had her quietly turning in that direction, hoping to allow the soldiers their well-deserved sleep. 

 She startled when a head popped around the corner, covering her mouth quickly before a scream could escape. The man had a face that reminded her vaguely of a bulldog, thick jaw and deep-set eyes. He scanned her for a moment in a way that felt more like an assessment than any kind of leering. 

 He grunted then jerked his head back the way he had come. "This way." He muttered only to disappear just as quickly as he appeared. 

 Through her heart still hammered in her chest from the unexpected startle, she took a deep breath in an attempt to steel her nerves. Sudden, frightened screaming would most likely get her or someone else shot. It was too early to be shot in her opinion. Best she try to suppress any girly screams for now. Or at least until after she got some sleep. 

 She followed the man around the corner only to encounter what most likely used to be a kitchen but was missing some key utilities. The faded, peeling wallpaper only added to the desolate feel. Just off center and close to a window facing the river was a table with three men sitting around it. Two others leaned against a countertop, mugs in hand. What quiet conversation had been going before her arrival ceased as she came into view. 

 "Anna?"

 "Good morning." She attempted to smile but worried it came out more as a grimace. The need for sleep was beginning to claw at her mind. 

 "Sit down," Boyd immediately stood up, gesturing to his chair at the table. "You want some coffee? I reckon we got some left."

 "That would be lovely, thank you." Knowing she probably would lose the fight, she went ahead and took his seat. Something she had learned about Boyd Swan over the past almost two weeks she had known him, he was a gentleman but beyond that…. he was stubborn. 

 Don leaned back in the chair next to her, cigarette between his lips. "Morning." He stated in a gravelly voice, lingering traces of sleep apparent in the sound. He must not have been awake long. 

 "Good morning." She flashed him a quick smile, willing the warmth to dissipate from her cheeks, or at least hoping no one noticed the blush. This schoolgirl crush on him was ridiculous, and she knew it. A peek of those blue eyes and her heart beat a drumroll in her chest that rivaled any band. 

 Boyd set a tin cup in front of her, steam tantalizingly drifting out of it. "Didn't think you'd be here this early. Why ain't you sleepin'?" Boyd asked. 

 She took a sip, the warmth delightful even if the taste was less than desirable. "Um, well, I'm supposed to be but I wanted to see y’all before, or you might come busting down the door again." She directed the last part to Boyd with a mock glare. He was lucky none of the medics carried guns with how he burst into the aid station demanding to see her. 

 He shrugged unapologetically. "Just wanted to make sure you was alright. We didn't know where you disappeared to. I see you got some new clothes."

 "Yeah," she glanced down at the ODs she now wore. They were ill-fitting, clearly meant for a man, not a short nurse. She had to roll up the hems of the trousers and the sleeves multiple times and she swore she still looked like a child playing dress-up in their parent's clothes. On the other hand, they were far warmer than her nurse’s torn uniform and right now, that was more important. "Gene let me have one of their spare medic uniforms."

 "Mmm… explains the patch here." Don touched the screaming eagle patch over her upper arm. 

 It was an innocent, teasing gesture but it still shot sparks through her system. Her eyes jumped up to meet his lingering gaze. He gave her a quick wink before leaning his chair back. The warmth of a blush reappeared on her cheeks. Quickly, she took a sip of her watery coffee, well aware of the others sitting or standing around quietly in the room. 

 "Gene? That medic with the southern accent?" Boyd asked, leaning against the wall nearby. His question was innocent enough but the scrutinizing look on his face said otherwise. 

 "Boyd…"

 "He just seemed real protective of you, that's all."

 She groaned, setting her cup down on the table and dropping her face into her hands. A few chuckles drifted from around the room but she ignored them. Actually, now that she was sitting still with her eyes closed, she could feel a wave of sleep threatening to crash over her and pull her under, with or without her consent. The coffee should have been helping to keep her awake but at this point, the warmth in her belly only made her want to curl up like a cat and doze off.

 A conversation picked up around her, two of the men in the room speaking in a low drone. She recognized the sound of the man with the bulldog face, he made some kind of remark that had Don chuckle next to her before replying. Her mind refused to process the words though. The conversation became a background noise as she teetered on the edge of sleep and wakefulness. She should get back to the aid station. She needed to get back to the aid station to help Roe. Yet her body refused to comply. 

 "Anna."

 The soft whisper of her name caught her attention from the sleep-induced haze. She turned her head slightly to meet Don's concerned gaze. 

 "When did you last sleep?"

 "Mmm?"

 He huffed at her noncommittal answer. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

 "No…. I stayed up to cover so some of the other medics could sleep. I'm fine. I should probably head back."

 "Doll, I just watched you fall asleep sitting right there."

 "No… I was just… resting my eyes. I should get back."

 "Like hell you are." He raised his gaze to look over her head, his volume rising from the whisper they had been speaking in. "Boyd, take Anna upstairs and let her have one of the cots or bed. We'll take her back once she gets some sleep."

 "No, it's fine…." She weakly tried to argue but snapped her mouth shut when he turned his gaze back to her.

 "If you don't walk up those stairs right now, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you up them." Don stated, then took a hit of his cigarette. The statement should have sounded like a joke but with his matter-of-fact tone and the way he watched her, Anna knew he was serious. 

 "Come on," Boyd put a hand on her shoulder. "We was gonna ask you to check Norman anyway."

 That caught her attention. She whipped around to look up at Boyd. "Is he alright? What happened?"

 "He's fine. Think he's got a cold.... maybe a fever too."

 With that information, she more readily followed the gunner up towards the nearby stairs and up to the second floor. There were four doors in the hallway but he led her to the furthest one on the right. Inside was a bed big enough for two people, a large dresser, nightstand and a short couch off in the corner. What immediately caught her attention though was the figure lying in bed, curled up like a child and coughing with a dry and scratchy sound. Her own exhaustion was forgotten as she darted past Boyd to drop next to the figure under the thick quilt. 

 "Hey, Norman." 

 "Anna?" He blearily opened his red-rimmed, glassy eyes. He sniffled, wiping his nose on the edge of his sleeve. 

 "How are you feeling?"

 "Ok…"

 "Liar." She teased, running a hand through his hair gently after feeling his forehead. He felt mildly warm but nothing she was too concerned with yet. That cough had her more worried. "What all hurts, Norm?"

 "Boyd thinks it's just a cold."

 "I know. Running nose, scratchy throat, slight fever… anything else? Headache? Fatigue?"

 "Uh huh." He mumbled, eyes closing as he relaxed under her touch, sleep guiding him away from awareness. 

 He looked so painfully young, lying in the bed. It broke her heart to know this was someone who was forced to kill people on a regular basis. He should be back home and going to school or flirting with his crush or playing baseball with friends. He should not be here. None of them should be here. 

 Yet here they were. 

 She looked around her and found his canteen laying just underneath the bed. Picking it up she was pleased it was at least half full. 

 "Norm, I want you to drink some of this before you fall back asleep. Can you do that for me, please?"

 With a painful groan, he shifted enough to drink a couple of mouthfuls of the water before handing it back to her and slinking back down onto the bed. She stood up but was surprised when his hand darted out to grab hers. 

 "Don't go yet." He said just barely above a whisper. It was the pleading look in his eyes that convinced her. 

 "Ok, sweetie," she cooed, running her hand over his sweaty forehead again, "I'll stay a little longer."

 She looked back over at Boyd, hovering near the door with an expression on his face she could not distinguish. 

 "Can you fill this back up and get him some of those crackers from your rations?"

 Boyd nodded, moving to take the canteen from her hand. "Sure thing. Anythin' else you need?"

 "No, I'll stay just for a little bit. Can you come get me in an hour or two? I really need to head back to the aid station."

 "You also need to rest. Those bags under your eyes look like permanent bruises now."

 "I will." She snapped then immediately felt bad and sighed. "I'm sorry, I will. I promise."

 "S'alright. I'll come back in an hour."

 "Thank you." She smiled, even if it was only a twitch of her lips. As Boyd walked out, she knelt back down next to the young soldier. His eyes were already closed, breathing slowing as slumber took hold once again. She rested her head on the side of the bed, carding her fingers through his hair. A hacking cough overtook him, startling them both. Once he settled, she continued her ministrations, humming softly. She hoped it was just a cold. That it was nothing more severe. 

 She made a mental note that when Boyd came her in an hour, she would make sure to ask Gene if anyone had found tea or honey laying around. 

 *****

 Don watched Boyd and Anna go up the stairs. When he turned back, he saw a couple of the men's gaze lingering on the stairs. 

 "The nurse is off limits." He stated with such finality that had at least one of the men's heads snap towards him. As if his statement sealed an invisible decree, the men in the kitchen turned back to whatever they were doing prior. 

 Davis looked at him from his spot across the room, leaning against the kitchen counter. "She yours?"

 "I thought you don't participate in gossip?"

 The other tank commander shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. 

 Don ignored the question, even if he could feel Davis' gaze frequently drifting to him. He focused on the map on the table before him. It was not necessary for him to study it but the action had become a habit of his whenever his crew moved to a new location. Knowing what other towns were nearby, rivers, roads, anything that could be of use later, he tried to memorize it. At this point, he figured by the time the war was over he would have most of Europe and North Africa geography permanently seared into his brain. 

 A couple minutes later, Boyd came back down and returned to his seat next to Don. He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed deeply. "She's workin' herself too hard. Looks like she ain't slept in a week."

 Don kept his thoughts to himself but he was loathed to agree. Exhaustion hung off her like a heavy cape making her feet drag as she walked. Witnessing how easily she fell asleep just sitting at the table did not help her case. 

 "Told her I'd be back up in an hour to get 'er."

 Don raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend. "Are you going to?" 

 Boyd smirked. "I'll check on her but if she's sleepin', I'm gonna leave her be. Lord knows she needs it." He paused, glancing towards the stairs. "I'd bet my own Bible she's asleep right now."

 "Mmm… Norman alright?"

 "He's sleepin'. She's takin' care of him."

 He was not all surprised. Since they had arrived in Haguenau, Norman's health had plummeted. Don worried for his newest crew member. The poor kid looked miserable and these were certainly less than ideal conditions for someone sick. The kid had a bed and a roof over his bed…. he would pull through. He had too. Don would not even consider the alternative. Especially with Anna now looking after him. The small nurse would mother the hell out of whatever is wrong with the kid. With a smirk at the thought, Don went back to studying the map. 

 Several hours later, he headed up the stairs to the room he shared with Boyd and Norman. 

 A runner had come from Captain Winters requesting his presence at noon at HQ. Don agreed, sending the runner back on his way. Boyd met his annoyed gaze and they shared a mutual sigh. So much for them having a reprieve before being sent back out. 

 Up the stairs he went and down the short hallway. The floorboards creaked under his boots; a sudden memory of his childhood home crossed his mind. Whenever he tried to sneak out of this bedroom as a child, he never could get far because of the damn loud floorboards.  

 He opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle the room's occupants. As he registered what he saw, it brought a small smile to his lips and he paused at the sight. Norman was still curled up asleep on the bed, mouth open and breathing loud. On the other side of the bed, Anna lay on her side, hands tucked under her face, hair a wild mess around her. Boyd had mentioned when he came up to check on them, he had helped move Anna to the bed with her barely rousing. Clearly more tired than any of them assumed.  

 Instead of waking her up like he intended to, he found himself closing the door quietly and just watching the two sleep. Yes, he knew it was creepy and if Boyd knew, the gunner would rightly smack him in the back of the head. Would not be the first time after Don did something stupid. 

 War brings people together in the strangest of way. After the…. accident...he thought he would never have family again. That because of his stupid mistakes, he was destined to be alone forever. Which he rightly deserved. But then he went to war. He was thrown into a tank with four other men who quickly became brothers. 

 If he needed to be distracted from commands and his own inner demons, he knew sitting down with Gordo would distract him for a while with his crazy stories of home and the shenanigans he did as a teenager. Gordo always had a joke or story to share to lighten the mood. 

 Grady respected Don as a leader but never let him run him over; he could just as easily return Don's anger-fueled fire as follow his commands. It had taken some time for them to trust and respect one another, their tempers too similar. Now there was an underlying understanding between the two of them, that they took the worst of the jobs, that they would carry the most blood on their hands to spare the others. If Don had to get into a fist fight, there was no one else he would want more by his side. 

 Then there was the man who had become more than a blood brother, a confidante, a best friend, a moral compass. Even in the first week of tank school, Boyd had looked over at Don one day, said he was proud to be by his side and thought Don was a good man. Don had laughed in Boyd's face but somehow it sealed a pact between them. Boyd's calm demeanor helped keep Don's temper down and even when it did flare up like a roman candle firework, Boyd was always there to rein it in. Neither of them drank so while the others went off to drink away the night, Don and Boyd found themselves sitting together silently and both were more than alright with that. 

 Norman reminded Don of his little brother so much it physically hurt sometimes. He despised himself that it was HIS fault the boy was forced to lose that innocence he carried. It was HIM that made Norman kill. But this was war, and if they wanted to survive, they needed to be merciless. Don knew he overcompensated by making sure Norman ate and rested when they could. He showed the young soldier how to disassemble and reassemble his rifle, how to stab and slash, how to survive. He refused to let the boy die even through his own stupid mistakes. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the idea had been planted that making sure Norman survived this goddamn war would be his penance for his own failures.  

 Before two weeks ago, these were the four people that mattered most to him. Even more than what was left of his blood relations. Losing Red, Norman's predecessor, had felt like a knife to the heart, even if he masked it for all to see. He refused to let the others see him grieve, he had to be strong for them. 

 Now though, Anna had slipped past his heart's barriers and settled there in a place that he had not realized was empty until her presence filled the prior void spot. She remained in his thoughts more than he cared to admit. Her soft touch, her gentle spirit, those gemstone eyes, that faint scent… it all lingered with him like a summer's heat that no matter what you tried to do, day or night, you could not escape. He swore she was a siren, come to torment him. His life was proof enough he did not deserve someone like her, he never would deserve someone like her. She was gentleness and kindness wrapped up in a person. He was wrath and mistakes that cost people their lives. 

 Yet still her presence persisted. 

 Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and moved to her side. He hated to wake her. She looked so peaceful. 

 "Anna." He whispered. "Anna, wake up." 

 Overly aware of his actions, he squatted down to be eye level with her. He reached a hand over and brushed some loose strands of hair off her cheek. The sunlight coming through the dirty window made her red hair shine. "Come on, darling. Time to wake up."

 He was unsure where the pet name came from but once it left his lips, it felt right. Before he could think too long about it, she began to stir. 

 She sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyelids fluttered open but once the sunlight hit, they slammed closed once again. "No…" she whimpered, scrunching her nose up in dislike of either the sun or waking up. Either way, he was positive he had never seen anything as adorable before… and he never used the word adorable.  

 Oh, he was so fucked now. 

 He chuckled. "Come on, Anna."

 "What time is it?"

 "Almost noon."

 She peeked an eye open at him. "I told Boyd to wake me in an hour."

 "Yeah, well we thought you needed some sleep."

 Grumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "overprotective mother hen", she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. 

 Movement drew Don's gaze over to Norman who was shifting around. His eyes blearily opened; it took a few seconds to come out of sleep. Once his mind seemed to realize Anna was still half laying in the bed less than a foot away from him, he sat up like he had been shocked with electricity. 

 "Don, I swear nothing happened. We just sleeping, I mean… I don't think…" a bout of coughing interrupted his frantic and hasty explanation. 

 At that, the tank commander laughed loudly. "I know, Norman." He shifted back towards the door, watching the two amused. Anna's cheeks were pink now but she gave no other indication of hearing Norman's sleepy mumbling. 

 "How are you feeling, Norm?" She asked, placing the back of her hand on his forehead. 

 "Alright, I guess."

 "Think you can come down and eat?"

 He nodded sluggishly. They both rolled out the bed, him moving a bit slower. The whole way out of the door and down the stairs, Anna walked next to him, occasionally putting a hand on his shoulder or giving a word of encouragement.  

 Don led the way back down, still smirking about Norman's hasty and confused comment. He would have to remember it to rib the kid later on when he was feeling better. Finally making it to the kitchen area, they deposited Norman at the table next to Gordo, who was nursing a cup of coffee. Boyd meandered over from reading on one of the couches in the common room, glasses still perched on his nose. 

 As soon as Anna saw him, she stomped over and punched him in the arm. "You were supposed to wake me up in an hour."

 Boyd winced and tried to shuffle out of range of another strike. "Well, you looked tired."

 "What every girl wants to hear, Boyd, thank you."

 Don was not the only one laughing at the interaction. 

 Anna blushed as she seemed to notice the others about the area but ignored them, walking back over to Norman. "You just rest. I'll come back and check on you tonight. I'll see if they have anything to help at the aid station."

 The kid nodded then started coughing again. 

 "Don't worry, we'll take care of him." Gordo said, wrapping an arm around him and giving her a quick wink. 

 She smiled back, cheeks still pink from her prior blush.  "Thanks, Gordo."

 Don figured it was time to speak up now. "Let's go, Anna. I'll walk you back." He was surprised when she followed him without hesitation after a quick goodbye to those from his crew.  

 Don and Davis were lucky to have found an unoccupied house on the western side of Haguenau for their crews, further away from the river and the Germans across it. Binkowski and Peterson and their crews occupied the building just behind them. Here they did not have to worry so much about the frequent mortars and snipers. Though some of the holes in the floorboards were concerning, but it was a roof over their heads. 

 The tank commander and nurse walked in silence past the other houses and buildings towards the aid station. The frost, hidden in the shadows, crunched under their boots. An unusual silence permeated the air, no shouting or sound of gunfire coming from the river. It made Don wary and he slowed down his typical purposeful stride to match hers, making sure to keep his body between hers and the direction of the river. He knew the action would be useless against a mortar but it helped alleviate some of his worry. 

 They stopped at the back door to the aid station, the couple brick steps still intact, leading up to a small stoop and the back, wooden door. Don remained on the muddy ground while Anna stepped up onto the first step then turned around to face him. 

 "Thank you for walking me back." 

 He hummed, glancing further down the road. "You make sure to eat something now. Can't have you wasting away."

 "Isn't that my job to take care of others?" She said cheekily. 

 "Yeah, doesn't hurt to have someone looking out for you too."

 It was a simple, truthful statement. If war taught anything, it was the need for others to watch your back both in dodging bullets and to share meals. War and death were malicious bastards, dragging down anyone into a black hole of melancholy before they could even realize they slipped in the first place. Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, the weight of them hit him firmly in the chest. Instead of meaning it as a comrade or friend, he realized he meant something more. Someone to look out for her in more than just the little things, but in everything. Shit. 

 Her head snapped up, her gaze meeting his in a way that sent a tingle down his spine. Neither one moved as they stared at one another. The world threatened to fade away around them. She was beautiful, it was a fact. Even in ODs that threatened to swallow her, she still managed to radiate warmth and kindness. He had caught more than one soldier eyeing her up. It burned him up on the inside but he had no right to fight them over their actions. She was not his…. even if he was beginning to wish she was. She was too good for him. Too pure. Too beautiful. His presence would only taint her. 

 He needed a distraction, something to break the hold they both seemed stuck in. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You still have the knife on you?" 

 She blinked rapidly as if awakening from a dream. "Yes." She stuttered then leaned over slightly to lift her right pants leg up. 

 He looked down and noticed it strapped to her lower leg, just above her boot. "Good."

 Even though the conversation halted, it seemed neither one wanted to move away. Her eyes held his once again as if waiting for something. A sign? A word? A fucking billboard with neon lights? Hell if he knew. The problem was, he could feel it too. There was something shifting between them and it both terrified and elated him. 

 Before he could stop himself, he reached out and slipped an erratic strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb trailing down her jawline after, her soft skin like velvet against his own roughness. Fuck he had been dying to touch her again. Instead of alleviating the need, now it seemed to burn stronger in him. 

 "Don…" she whispered as his thumb hinted at touching her lower lip. 

 The way she said it in that breathy tone, the light in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks, all of it combined sent a bolt of lightning through him that threatened any self-control he had. He wanted to pull her small frame against him, to taste her and see if her lips were as soft as they looked, if that heavenly scent that surrounded her came from her skin or hair. He wanted her. Fucking hell, he wanted her. And if the way her eyes were dilated and her breathing uneven, perhaps she wanted him too. 

 The door beside them suddenly opened, jolting them both back to reality. Whatever moment they had, dashed away as a paratrooper glared at them then pushed past them. 

 "I should…."

 "Yeah," he said, pulling out a cigarette.  He needed to keep his hands busy otherwise he would be tempted to pull her against him. "I'll send someone to come get you later."

 "That's not necessary."

 "Maybe, but I sure as hell don't like you walking around by yourself."

 "Fine." She stood up on her toes and brushed a quick kiss to his jawline, an innocent ode to the last time she kissed him. "Be safe, Sergeant." She whispered against his skin then quickly turned and ducked inside the aid station. 

 "Damn it." He muttered after his brain finally decided to restart. Such a simple touch should not make him lose all sense. He kicked a loose rock, sticking the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. The smoke curled in his lungs, helping solidify him into reality. He glanced back at the door, briefly wondering what it would be like to storm into the building and kiss her like he wanted too. But before he could do something stupid, he headed towards the regiment HQ, the lingering hint of lilacs danced in the corners of his mind. 

[whumpforthewin]

The Answer - 4

“Put him in the other corner,” this absolute douche bag nearly growled. If Jack didn’t think he had a concussion he would’ve rolled his eyes, but right now everything was mostly blurry and rolling his eyes seemed like a lot of work. 

He was thrown in the corner away from the rest of the girls. He didn’t exactly know why. But he could guess. The other guys were out and while Jack was definitely not the biggest threat here he knew why some people might think that. Sexist pricks the lot of them. 

These guys were in some sort of turf war with his pimp and they were caught in the middle of it. Now his pimp was out and they chose to strike. 

When they first burst into his apartment he fought back, of course he did. All that got him was like five wailing on him and cuffing his hands behind his back. He hit the wall and slid down onto his side. Sure he was used to not using his hands but he wasn’t a miracle worker. 

“Get a picture of him. Make sure his face is visible. I want Dark to know we’re serious.” 

Jack froze. Oh, this wasn’t a turf war with his pimp. This was a war against Dark, whatever that meant. And while Jack didn’t know exactly what Dark did, it made sense, and it was clear these guys were way out of their league. So he did the only rational thing. 

He started laughing. 

“Shut up, bitch!” The man snapped and kicked him in the stomach. 

Jack gasped to catch his breath. “I ‘aven’t seen that prick in over a month. You think this is gonna prompt him to act? An’ what? Give inta your demands?” His accent was thicker through the pain but he didn’t care. 

The man grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head to point him at the camera. The camera flashed and he flinched. The man let him drop. 

“Send it to Dark.” Jack still let out a chuckle.

But then it became a waiting game. A few times Jack tried to explain he was nothing to Dark and each time they would kick or hit him to shut him up. 

Turns out being a hostage was actually pretty boring. Aside from being roughed up, nothing happened. 

Until the phone rang. 

Everyone tensed. But the main guy answered it. 

“Damien, glad you finally got my message.” Jack cringed; apparently this guy actually had a death wish. 

“Morroe, I didn’t think you were this idiotic.” Dark said and Jack did not think about how good it sounded to hear his voice again. 

“I’m a businessman Dark, I go where it’s most profitable,” the guy, Morroe said. “I’m sure you want to speak to your toy.”

Jack flinched as the guy started to walk over to him. 

“No.”

Morroe stumbled mid step. “What do you mean no?” 

“If you’re going to allow me to speak to anyone I would speak to Amy. The dark haired woman behind you.”

Jack had to admit, first there was confusion then there was hurt. It made sense, in a cruel way. Dark had been coming to him almost daily for a few months then stopped. It made sense he was still getting his dick wet somewhere. 

“If you wish for this conversation to continue you’ll hand the phone to her.”

Amy held out her hand. And Jack saw clearly for the first time she wasn’t afraid of these douchebags. If anything she looked more annoyed. 

Morroe looked bewildered but almost mechanically handed over the phone. 

“Amy, ravishing as ever.”

She looked unimpressed. “You’ve put me in a rough spot here, Dark.” 

“My apologies.” Jack could almost see the unapologetic grin on Dark’s face as he said it. “Is everyone alright?” 

“Jack’s been roughed up but he’s breathing. No one else has been touched aside from roughly shoving us into Jack’s room,” Amy explained. 

“Good.” Jack didn’t know why Dark cared. Or maybe he didn’t and this was just to make sure Jack was the only collateral. 

“Would you inform Morroe that he is to let you all go if he wishes to remain breathing?”

Morroe yanked the phone out of Amy’s hand. “Now you listen here Dark! I’m the one that calls the shots here.” He pulled a gun out of his pants that Jack hadn’t noticed. Granted head wounds tended to mean you missed things. 

He stormed over to Jack. “If you want either of these bitches to keep their brains in their skull you’ll do what I say.” He put the gun to Jack’s forehead and Jack froze. 

He hadn’t been threatened with a gun before. He didn’t like it. 

But then he turned the phone around and Jack saw Dark for the first time. He appeared to be in an office. Hands in front of him, studying the room and now Jack through the phone.

“Shoot him then.” 

Jack’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

“I’ll do it!” The safety clicked off. Jack couldn’t suppress the whimper that left him. The barrel was cold and final against his forehead.

“You won’t.” 

Jack should’ve known. Dark said he cared but this was all just a game to him, and Jack was the loser. He wasn’t sure if Dark was the winner but that hardly mattered when the loser ended up dead. He shut his eyes to wait for nothingness.

“If you do, I’ll make sure your death is nowhere near as quick as his.” Jack’s eyes shot open. In the low quality screen he couldn’t see what Dark was feeling but his voice was hard and cold. Jack wanted to shrink back but he was already pressed against the wall.

“What you are going to do,” Dark continued, “is open that door when you hear a knock, you’re going to stand to one side of the room, and you’re going to let everyone leave. If you do that you’ll live long enough to tell your boss you failed.” 

By the time he finished speaking there was a knock, two quick taps on the door. When no one moved there was a crack before the door flew in, sending a guy crashing into the wall. 

A blue headed boy popped in. “Heya Amy!” 

“Hey Eef. Hi Tyler,” Amy said standing. 

A bigger man walked in behind this Eef person and nodded to her. 

“Might want to remove the gun Morroe,” Eef said, pulling a much larger weapon to his front. “I don’t have any qualms of killing you and I guarantee I’m a faster shot.” 

Morroe seemed to way his options before flicking the safety back on the gun and stepping back. The bigger guy, Tyler, walked over and lifted Jack to his feet. 

“Can you walk?” He asked, cutting the zip ties around his wrists. 

Tyler’s voice was much gentler than he thought it would be. 

“I’ll help him.” Amy walked to his side as Eef directed the rest of the girls out. 

“Ethan, Tyler, if anything goes wrong, shoot them.” And with that the call ended. 

Amy helped him down the stairs and outside. “Stay here. When Tyler and Ethan come out, stay next to them. I’m going to go calm down the girls.” She leaned him against the wall. 

Jack shut his eyes. His head was pounding. The last hour and a half had been the most stressful of his life. 

“You good?” Jack jumped as Eef, maybe Ethan, touched his shoulder. 

“Yep, nope, totally fine, just was held hostage, beat to hell, and threatened with a gun. I’m fuckin’ peachy,” Jack growled. 

Ethan pulled his hand back. “Fair enough. Sorry about that.” 

Tyler held out a card. “Dark wasn’t sure if you’d lost it or not. Wanted us to give you another. He also said he would explain.”

Jack took the card, grateful his hands were only shaking a little. “I’ll think about it.” 

“His door is always open. We’ve got to go, let Amy do her thing. Nice to meet you Jack!” Ethan pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before dancing off. 

“Nice to meet you Jack.” Tyler also pressed a kiss to his other cheek and headed after Ethan. It was an odd gesture but one he appreciated, he felt oddly soothed by it.

Jack looked at the card in his hands. He held onto it like it was the only thing keeping him alive. And it actually might’ve been. 

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