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forex368 · 2 months

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Website: http://forex368.com/

Address: Limassol, Cyprus

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tropes-and-tales · 1 year

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moving person a by their waist with our boy bob floyd?

The Hard Deck is more crowded than usual. It’s standing room only, the press of bodies making the bar loud and hot. Lieutenant Bob Floyd, resident wallflower, can’t seem to move without bumping into someone or brushing against someone else. Every time he breathes he’s elbowing someone, then apologizing profusely.

It’s a bad night to be so flustered. Hangman’s cousin is back in town and charming the crowd by switching off on the piano with Rooster. You’re the only person who can rouse everyone to sing along, even the more reserved fly-boys in the crowd.

“Helps to know more than one Jerry Lee Lewis song,” you told Bob once, and then you’d dropped him a wink, cementing the fatal crush he’s been nursing for you.

It’s not ideal, falling for an extended member of the Seresin family (though your last name is different), but you’ve cast your smug cousin in a more sympathetic light for the Dagger Squad. Jake’s less smarmy, more soft when you’re around. Family smooths out his rough edges, it seems.

Tonight, you and Rooster trade off. Rooster, galled by your success at the piano, has tried to learn some new fare. His results are middling, and Bob can see the way he pouts as he cedes the piano stool to you once he wraps up his faltering version of the Beatles’ “Hey Jude.”

Bob can also see the brilliant grin you flash Rooster as you settle into your seat and start to play Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.”

Which the crowd eats up, of course. You know what the fan favorites are.

-----

Bob has always been content to just watch you, to nurse his crush from afar. You swing through San Diego every other month, and you always stop to see Jake. Bob is usually there for at least part of your visit—at the Hard Deck or on the beach—but he rarely is proactive to speak to you. Any conversation is driven by you.

Tonight, he loses sight of you once the dueling pianos bit ends. He finds you again chatting with Nat, and a beat after his eyes fall on the two of you, Nat catches his gaze and grins at him. She jerks her head in a “c’mere” gesture.

Bob obliges. He weaves his way through the crush of people until he’s standing by you and Nat.

“You looked lonely, standing by yourself,” Nat says.

He shakes his head, offers a rueful grin. “Oh, no, I’m fine.”

“Are you sad the musical portion of tonight’s programming ended?” you ask. “It’s a little obnoxious, right?”

He demurs that too, tells you that maybe Rooster is obnoxious with just playing the same song over and over, but no—he likes your piano-playing, he thinks your voice is lovely…he rambles for a long moment until he catches movement: Nat shaking her head faintly with a bemused smile on her face.

“Ah,” he says, cutting himself off. “I’m ramblin’.” His accent comes out and he winces inwardly, worried you’ll think him a hick—

You laugh and reach out, smack his shoulder lightly with the back of your hand. “Bobby, you can ramble any time if you keep paying me compliments.”

Bobby. You’ve always called him that, back when Jake introduced you. He loves the way it sounds coming from your mouth.

Your sudden touch, your light teasing…it makes his brain short-circuit. He gapes at you wordlessly for too long of a moment, then he notices your empty glass.

“Can I get you a refill?” he asks, but it comes out too fast and too high-pitched.

You laugh again and hand him your glass. “That would be really nice. Thank you.”

He takes it and practically sprints away. He misses Nat’s knowing look. He misses the way his pilot nods, turns to you, and says, “he’s got a crush on you.” And he misses the way you nod back at Nat and murmur that yes, you’ve noticed.

-----

The bar is just as crowded, if not more so, and Bob finds himself lost in the crowd.

He tries to flag down Penny and the other bartender, but there’s always someone flashier, bigger, louder to pull attention away from Bob to themselves.

Which is typical. Bob Floyd has always faded into the background. And it’s usually a blessing, since he’s introverted anyway. But sometimes?

Sometimes he wishes he could stand out, just a little. Just enough to maybe catch the eye of a certain Seresin cousin—

His train of thought is cut off by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, this time a gentle, tentative press to get his attention. He turns his head and sees you, smiling softly at him.

“No luck?” you ask.

He lifts a hand, lets it fall helplessly. “It’s too busy. I’m sorry.”

You still have your hand on his shoulder. You squeeze him gently, say, “here, let me,” and then your other hand is on his waist, gently leading him aside, pushing him away from the bar to make room for you. He’s so flummoxed by the touch—probably just a casual, friendly touch for you, but it’s gasoline on the flames of his infatuation—that he lets you move him.

Then you release him, and you lift your hand and whistle, getting the attention of the bartender. You order another drink for yourself, and you get one for Bob: a Coke with a splash of grenadine.

“How’d you know my drink?” he asks. He’s still flummoxed: first by your touch, now by you knowing his non-alcoholic beverage of choice. It feels like his world is tilting off its axis, throwing everything askew.

“I noticed,” you answer with a shrug.

“No one’s ever noticed before.”

Another shrug, this time paired with a smile. “I did.”

#ask game #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales

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dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you · 1 year

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best friends to lovers destiel au fic recs list for @thetiredstuff :D

A Tale of Two Tropes by Amelia_Clark (E, 7k)

“Am I going to regret this?” Cas asked from the passenger seat.

They’d just pulled up outside Dean’s grandmother’s house, a tidy Craftsman bungalow painted a cheerful yellow. It didn’t look threatening; there was a porch swing with crocheted cushions and a cement statue of a goose on the porch. The goose was wearing a rain slicker and hat the same color as the house.

In this fic: fake dating, bed-sharing, the doting grandmother Dean Winchester never had, a cement goose with a wardrobe, a contemptuous cat, and a lot of sexual tension that's unresolved until it isn't.

As You Walk On By by MercyBraavos (E, 23k)

Dean and Castiel grew up together. Fell in love together. Lost their virginity together. Made plans for the future, their future, together. There’s only one problem:

Castiel doesn’t remember any of it.

Are We Any Different? by LeviathanBlue, SerpentCountess (T, 41k)

Cas adopts (steals) a cow. Dean helps.

“Cas… There’s a… There’s a cow. In my room.” “Yes, Dean.” “Why?” “Because.” "Right."

More Than Kisses by FriendofCarlotta (E, 29k)

1996: Dean joins his high school’s pen pal program as a last-ditch effort to keep from repeating the eleventh grade. But soon, the letters he trades with Castiel, a fellow high schooler from Chicago, become the most important constant of his life.

2005: Castiel has been in love with his pen pal Dean for years now. But he’s reluctant to upset the balance of their relationship, so when a new work opportunity takes him to Dean’s city, he keeps it a secret. Will these two ever find their way to each other?

things i knew when i was young by stormwarnings (T, 16k)

Ok, so Castiel's in love with his best friend.

Which is what puts them here, in Dean’s car, eight hours into a nine and a half hour drive up north to bury Castiel’s mother on the grounds that he grew up on. Because it’s been eight years since Castiel cut ties with his family and left, supposedly for college, and there hasn’t been a word of communication since. Because Dean is, at his core, a good person and a better friend, and when he heard that Castiel’s mother had died and that he would need to return to his childhood home over Thanksgiving break, he knew enough to say he’d go with him.

This is, for sure, not helping Castiel get over his inappropriately persistent feelings.

(more under the cut)

Alright by turningthepages (T, 46k)

Dean is a good kid living in a good town surrounded by good friends and good family. Castiel is the new kid in town and has never truly had a friend before.

Dean comes along and starts to change things for him.

To Build a Home by intothesilentland (M, 383k)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection.

Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone.

God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

On the day of Jimmy Novak's funeral, Dean sees Cas for the first time in nine years. He adored Castiel the moment he met him, at only four years old. But after fourteen years of friendship destroyed by one moment of heartbreak, and after nine years of silence, Dean is convinced Cas will want nothing to do with him. And it's killing him.

When In Vegas by Dmsilvis, TobytheWise (E, 16k)

Dean has figured out the most perfect prank. The prank to top every other prank. Ever. Getting his best friend drunk and then convincing him they’d gotten married in their drunken stupor was easy. Dealing with Castiel telling him he’s been in love with Dean for years? Well, that’s a different thing entirely.

Castiel wakes up married to the love of his life who he’s been secretly pining over for years. Now he just has to convince Dean that he’ll be the best husband ever, making sure Dean will never regret the decision he made that night.

Things take a terrible turn when Castiel finds out everything was a lie in the name of a prank just as Dean realizes how much he truly loves Castiel back. Will they be able to overcome this misunderstanding or was their relationship doomed before it even started?

The Ocean Between Us by noxsoulmate (E, 27k)

Living a hermit life, Dean Winchester didn’t need much. The only things important to him were his position in the business that was once owned by his family, his boat, and his friendship with Castiel, Charlie, and Gabriel. If only there wasn’t a whole ocean between them, then maybe he could even give his feelings for Castiel a chance …

Room for Two (The Mattress AU) by almaasi (E, 14k)

✔ College roommates ✔ Buying a mattress together ✔ Faking a relationship to get a discount ✔ Sharing a bed ✔ Roleplaying as a couple to "test the bed" ✔ Fake kissing becomes real kissing ✔ Fake sex is Way Too Real ✔ Cuddling ✔ Wet dreams ✔ "Oh no I thought I was dreaming but it was real life" ✔ Matchmakers Sam & Charlie ✔ Cas seems kinda clueless but actually understands everything ✔ Mutual respect, support, and understanding ✔ Friends to lovers ✔ Mutual pining ✔ Go౦ԁ sHit

Honey-Baked by mishaminion69, sydkn3e (E, 89k)

There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it...Cas is a weird, tactless, ornery guy. His idea of a job is selling weed out of their shared cabin, his idea of fun is occasional orgies, and he has more creepy dolls and crystals than anyone of their age ever should.

But he's also Dean's childhood best friend, and now he's the star of all Dean's wildest fantasies.

Then there's the whole "being in love with him" thing.

The Ones We Choose by lightmyway (E, 82k)

After telling his family he’s gay, Castiel winds up homeless. With the help of his best friend, Cas finds himself a home and a new family. He also finds himself in love with his best friend. A love that endures no matter the circumstances of their lives, even in the wake of Dean’s rejection.

Despite knowing how Cas feels, Dean clings to his best friend through the years. In high school and college. As roommates. Through Cas becoming a firefighter and his own journey to become a business owner. With shared time and space, Dean begins to see Cas in a new light. His attraction grows, along with his feelings.

Letting those feelings spill out one night, Dean changes the trajectory of their lives. As their relationship grows, they are confronted by Cas’s past and must relive a painful and damaging event in Dean’s life. But it is the life-changing fire, which is their greatest challenge, making them face their deepest fears and test the strength of their love.

#spn #spn fanfic #destiel

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cdrlogic · 1 year

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Capitalism, Commerce, Gooseloops

A lot of people are getting it twisted about being anti-capitalist but still needing, ya know, MONEY to live.

Capitalism and Commerce are two different things, brought into high relief as my kids's summer day camp is speed running an economic system.

See, when the kids do something good or participate in a thing or whatever, they are rewarded with a little tchotchke we'll call a gooseloop (for anonymity of the camp program. they are not called gooseloops, but damn, it's fun to write and say). A little plastic bracelet-y thing in a WILD variety of colors.

The kids are frikkin cuckoo for gooseloops. A market pops up. There are rare and super rare gooseloops. You can trade 5 regs for a rare, barter for a craft, or trade them for more time on the swings or a spot in line. One kid collects their gooseloops and turns them into a bandolier-lookin thing. One kid makes a special gooseloop pouch to hide the loops.

So far, so good. Commerce is thriving. The children agree that the gooseloops are worth something and trade them accordingly. Great. But this is NOT CAPITALISM.

Capitalism is the accumulation of gooseloops for the pure fact of having more gooseloops. You aren't going to trade them for anything, you're just going to have them. Accumulate them. Keep them OUT of the round of commerce. What are you going to do with 100 super rare gooseloops outside the confines of the camp? Doesn't matter, MOAR.

Capitalism ignores humanity in the service of acquisition. Capitalism is the kids who are stealing other kids' gooseloops. Capitalism is my kid hoarding their gooseloops under their pillow and not taking them to camp for fear of having them stolen, which then negates the whole value they were supposed to have in the first place.

I think the gooseloop economy is fine. I think the gooseloop hoarders, mine among them, are in for a disappointment come September.

#anti-capitalism #commerce #gooseloops #capitalism

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scribble-dribble-writes · 2 years

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Loveless - (6)

<<<Prev Next>>>

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Pairing: Namor x Shuri and Attuma x Okoye 🥹

Word Count: 1800

Warning: none

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Chapter 6

It was a sight to behold, Talokans walking around with their masks and blue skin. The conflict between the kingdoms had eased with the new strategies that were implemented. Fear had to be deconstructed, they had to see it the way she did. She found herself back in her lab, tinkering and building, the Talokan youth who wanted to meet her were progressive. Intelligence at such young ages, they reminded her of the children she met through the Wakandan out reach program. Their flaw was that they were unexposed, misguided by the prejudice of their ancestors. Combining their technology proved to be useful, their water bombs were well made, their armour was much lighter than the ones Wakandans wore. Shuri created more units of the 'midnight angel' allowing her warriors to train with the Talokans in their way of fighting. Languages were being shared, the markets were now filled with food from under the sea, jewelers seeling pearls and Talokan artefacts. Trade was established, people grew into a wondrous community aiding in each other’s growth.

She purposefully took time away from the lab often, to walk through the city and enjoy the peace of solitude. But as she kept track on the submariner, she observed how he buried himself in duty. He spent time on the surface more, now that his people were here too but he never overstepped his bounds with her. He did not hover around her or shower he with gifts. He let her be, he would catch her gaze in the crowd and she would not look away. In her head, she was trying to recreate the peace they had in his cave, where she had been emotionally vulnerable with him. It was felt easy with him then, unlike the other men she had dealt with. Her mind felt valued.

She could talk about history, art, technology to deep sea mysteries, no topic was off limit. She was unable to fill that small vaccum with anyone else’s company. But it was too soon to decide if she was going to reconstruct that bridge between him and her. For now, it did feel better that he was here, sharing the burden and responsibility. She walked out by the river bed to see a troop of midnight angels undergoing training and in the middle, he stood on the deck with his spear. Teaching them to swivel and swing, like a dance that he was so well accustomed in it’s pattern. It was rather odd, not seeing him in the air, majestic and commanding, his ankle was still bound in bandages. She walked to the pier to observe the proceedings. His presence made her feel less alone in these changing times, his silence felt comforting. He glanced towards her and fumbled with his spear. He raised his hand, bringing the session to a pause.

“Training seems to be going well.”, she told him to which he smiled. “Yes, however I miss not being able to join them yet.”, he looked at the warriors who were at ease, their deep blue suits tinting the water around them. “The kids.”, he turned to her with excitement etched across his face. “They love you.”, he exclaimed. She’d only seen him like this once before, when he took her to Talokan. He beamed and behind his façade she saw the boy he was never allowed to be. “Its almost as if our conflict never happened.”, she looked around the busy place but he was looking at her. “If only it was.”, he replied softly. It was something she thought of often, she held his gaze, he held the same magnetism as the current she was pulled into. “I should let you go, princess.”, he broke away first, a supple smile on his lips. “I am sure you have better places to be.”, he turned to continue his training.

He sensed her move away after a pause, he ran through the rest of the routine and let the troops go. He found some task or the other to help with, putting up stalls around the market place, helping rebuild elements that had been destroyed. He spent time with the surface beings here, they were hesitant at first, when he came to understand that it was not their inhibition but rather their fear. They had only seen him once before, when he invaded their land. But through determination and perseverance, he found favour with them. His wounded wing was still healing, so he had to walk around a lot than usual. Turning a corner, he spotted an empty wall, one that had not been touched by any other work of art. His fingers itched for his brush, he borrowed paint from a passerby and settled himself by it to get to work.

Attuma was new to all of this. The only time he ventured to the surface was to put an end to witnesses and keep their secret safe. So to walk about other beings rather than his own was difficult to wade through. He didn’t know the language. He walked around like a sea monster, his head piece often bumping into something. Namora kept watch over Namor and in the time she didn’t, it was clear she wasn’t having a great experience. He wandered the streets till he saw a familiar face. “Warrior”, he called out and the figure turned to him. It was the woman he had fought with. She huffed and turned to walk away. “Wait.”, he caught up with her. “If you’ve come to ask me about a rematch, it’s a no.”, she spoke as she walked briskly weaving through the streets that was too fast for him to keep track, so he did his best to match her stride. “I won that fight fairly.”, she pointed a finger at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Her intensity amusing him.

“You did.”, he raised his hands in defense. Her face contorted into confusion. “Then why did you call for me?”, she folded her arms. “I wanted to try those.”, he pointed to the charcoal grilled chicken pieces. “I don’t know how to ask for it.”, he rubbed his neck. Okoye inhaled sharply as she realized. “Oh.”, she exclaimed. “Can you even digest those?”, she asked confused. He shifted his weight. “We’ll never know till we try.”, he told her and watched as she weighed out her options. Knowing there was nothing else to be done and how the others kept away from him, she knew that she was the only one who could help. “Fine. Come.”, she led him to the shop. The seller took a double take at his new customers. “Two of those please.”, she ordered but with a sidelong glance she could tell that Talokan warrior was busy observing her. “What?”, she asked annoyed. But it only made him smile. “Can you teach me?”, he asked her, “Your language.”, she heard and felt surprised.

Most people came to her for her ability to fight not her linguistic skills. She contemplated, it wasn’t about teaching him the language but rather all the time she would spend with him. “If I defeat you in a game of strength, I will teach you.”, she gave him the hot plate of chicken and took a seat in front of him. “Ok, what is the game?”, he asked and she placed her elbow on the table. She will lose and be free from this commitment. He followed her once he knew what she was doing. “This is the challenge?”, he asked, she nodded, so he clasped his large fist around hers. She counted down, and he felt her use her entire strength to topple his arm, his focus however was on her. She knew she had no chance against him. So slowly, he let her overpower him. His arm tilted like a meter, the people around began to cheer. Her surprised eyes caught his, he put up a fight and then, let go, his fist hit the table, she looked at him, stunned but even through her tan skin he detected the mild flush on her cheeks.

“You let me win.”, she told him. “No, you won the challenge fairly.”, he folded his arms in the fear she would ask for another attempt. The cheers died down, “Alright, I will teach you.”, she conceded as he smiled. “Don’t let it get to your head.”, she smirked as she got to leave. “Here.”, he nudged his plate towards her. “Our victory treat.”, he was sharing his meal, the gesture asking her to stay a while longer. Ever since her husband’s betrayal, she struggled with trusting people she didn’t know. If someone you thought you knew well enough, could turn against you? How can she believe him of all people? But his deep brown pleasing eyes looked like her pet rhinoceros, he had higher chances of getting lost and being involved in a fight. So in order to keep an eye on him, she dropped her bag and joined him. This was only to keep him in check, she told herself.

Shuri closed the lab for the day, the moon was high in the sky as she took a walk around a sleeping city. She found herself in new part of the town when it struck her as unusual to see a crowd gathered around a wall lit by a torch. She recognized it, from afar, it was a memorial. She eased herself, it was quite common for Wakandans to do so for people they had lost but it was the crowd that felt out of place. The closer she got, the faster her heart began to beat. It wasn’t a Wakandan memorial, the painting was in ancient Mayan. The flames flickered over the beautiful piece of artwork. She mindlessly walked through the crowed, enchanted, they parted to give way. It was a collage of her mother. She knew the artisan as she got closer, it was his work. He painted her in different versions, depicting her as a queen, a mother, by the bush defending her land and her final moment saving riri. Tying it all together was text written in Mayan. “Crio, translate this.”, she instructed her Ai. “Yes, princess.”, a blue light scanned the wall as she held up a kimoyo bead.

“I vow my life to protect the legacy she built. To never bring upon wakanda another dark day. This I, k’uk’ulkan, pledge and mark as proof that from henceforth in my eyes, we are one.”

Crio translated the written verse. The silence that followed was loud. She could not understand him. Unknowingly, tears streamed down her cheeks, not of sadness but from a place of happiness, that she got to witness her mother’s presence and have known her in all facets of her life.A feeling of gratitude encompassed her. She caught a glimpse of the paint supplies that had been left behind. She picked up the brush and translated the message such that her people could read. The crowd didn’t disappear but rather settled there for a while in the night. She sat amongst them on the ground, watching the painting shift with the flames making it look like her mother was alive. People shared stories of her mother, some that she knew and a few she didn't. History, lessed the weight in her heart, making her value the present, open with the possibility of forging a future that was not tainted by the past. Home was beginning to finally feel like it.

---

My sweet precious fishboys 😩🥹

Tags (🥰💖💖💖):

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#shuri x namor #tenoch huerta namor #namor #mcu namor #namor x shuri #queen shuri #shuri #shuri black panther #princess shuri #mcu shuri #mcu fic #attuma #general okoye

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inkformyblood · 6 months

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love you then and now (CWFKB #21)

first and last kiss fill for @codywanfirstkissbingo, I didn't have the capacity for too much angst so this canon divergence happened instead <3 Canon Era, Not Canon Compliant, Time Travel Force Shenanigans

The main deck of the warship is close enough to the simulations that Cody has to bite the tip of his tongue whenever he walks onto it. It’s a quick check, lasting as long as a breath, the same way he would skim his hand across his blaster before he leaves his quarters. It still smells like fresh metal, the odour that permeated the lower levels of Kamino along with the steady drip of saltwater working its way through decaying metal. He is still on the warship, countless days of steady travel and a handful of hours hyperjump away from Kamino. The only difference is he can see two Obi-Wan Kenobi’s.

One is his new general. He’s young, maybe Alpha batch if Cody had to try and put a sense of time to him. He stands wide-stanced, ready to move despite the incessant curl of his fingers around his wrist, twisting a series of corded bracelets tighter then releasing them. His robes don’t look like they’d do much to stop a blaster bolt, but they swing with the juddering kickback of the ship’s engines and Cody can’t stop sneaking glances at them, at him. He is paler than a brother, not the same shade as the Kaminoans or sickness, just paler and splattered with dark marks over his face and arms. He shifts his gaze sideways, blue like the hazy boundary where the sky meets the ocean, and smiles at Cody. Cody returns the gesture, ducks his head to bite his tongue once more. Still real. Cody thinks he is halfway in love with Obi-Wan already and he isn’t the only one. They were made to get attached, to care, to love so fiercely that they would die for their Jedi and Cody is a good soldier. This is one order he wouldn’t mind following until his final march.

The other Cody has known his entire life but no-one else can see him. This Obi-Wan is older, his skin weathered and worn, his hair the pale sheen of fresh plastoid, but he is still the same man. His smile is the same and Cody loves him too but differently. Cody doesn’t need to look to know where his Obi-Wan is. He pulses like a tracking beacon at the edges of his thoughts, a constant awareness that is as much comfort as it has been confusion. Cody shouldn’t be able to know the code for the store rooms so he can hammer his own programming into the replicator, or the boundary needed for the test scores for the next quarter to keep as many of his brothers from being decommissioned. But he does. Because his Obi-Wan told him.

“How are you finding everything, Commander?”

Cody turns towards Obi-Wan, newer and still fresh out of the packet to him. “Everything has been satisfactory, sir.”

Satisfactory, his Obi-Wan chuckles. He’s sprawled back against one of the consoles like it is a table at a cantina. Cody’s never been to one in person, but he’s seen the programmed civilians in the simulations and the handful of holovids they were able to hide away amongst a network of files. They lounge like his Obi-Wan does. It is the bare bones, my dear, and you know it.

Cody doesn’t respond to him. He tucks his hands behind his back and brushes his fingers through a battle sign for mics off, adding the necessary finger curl so he won’t have a brother respond instead. They’re used to him by now. The occasional bout of talking to something no-one else can see is an easy enough trade off for not being decommissioned.

“It is bare bones that the Republic could have given us,” Obi-Wan says. He steps closer to Cody, carefully orbiting around his side so they’re both looking the same way. The holoscreen is inactive showing the stars striping past them as they travel to whatever battleground they’ve been assigned. “I will try for more when we have some pull behind us.”

I don’t miss that mess of bureaucracy.

“I will help wherever I am able to do so, sir.” Another flicker of mics off, tucking in a request at the end that Cody knows is going to be ignored. “How are you finding this situation, sir?”

“Obi-Wan, please, Commander.” Obi-Wan breaks into a tight grin, the tendons in his neck drawn into sharp relief. There is a deliberate watchfulness to him, his gaze never shifting from the holoscreen window but Cody knows he is aware of every brother on the ship. “While this isn’t the first war I’ve been involved in, I was hoping I wouldn’t be involved in another.”

Crush that hope, it doesn’t serve us. His Obi-Wan moves forward, settling next to the other Obi-Wan. Cody can just make out a shimmer beyond Obi-Wan, a wavering of his form. This wouldn’t have been our last war unless it can be changed.

Fear twists through Cody’s belly, turning the warm haze sour.

Sorry. His Obi-Wan reaches through the other version of himself, pressing his hand into Cody’s shoulder. It’s heavier than a normal human touch would be out of necessity. Obi-Wan shivers, twisting his bracelets around his wrists tighter before he releases it.

“We should be there in a couple of hours,” Obi-Wan says. “If I could steal you away from the main bridge, Commander, I’d appreciate some help in drawing up initial plans based on the intel.”

“Yessir, uh— Obi-Wan.”

His Obi-Wan laughs, a full-throated thing that booms through Cody’s ribcage and knocks him sideways with the delight of it. That’s why he turns when Obi-Wan does, the pair moving in tandem but not synchronised. They knock against each other, their skulls ringing with the impact, and Cody bites back a groan. Obi-Wan yelps like he’s been shocked, one hand flying up to the mark on his forehead, the other stretched out to reel Cody back in. The support is unneeded but appreciated as Cody quickly takes stock of what has just happened.

He’s just kissed his General in the traditional Mandalorian fashion, a headbutt being the foundation of the gesture. His Obi-Wan had been midway between the empty space and the patch of the floor where Obi-Wan had been moving into so Cody thinks he has kissed him too and he can’t see him. Can’t sense him anymore.

Obi-Wan blinks, his eyes wide and, for a moment, his mouth curls into a familiar grin, his hair pale and his skin weathered. “I think we have something to discuss, Commander. The Force does work in mysterious ways, after all.”

“Yes Obi-Wan. I think we do.”

#codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #star wars #cwfkb2023 #cwfkb #my writing #fanfic #cody x obi wan

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mayuri-manufacturer · 8 months

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aftgficlibrary · 11 months

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heya! I love your work and you guys have brought me so many good fics so lots and lots of love for that <333

okay so I read this fic a while ago, I don't wanna burden you guys so dw if it takes time to find it I'm in no rush

anyway so the fic (it was part of a series) basically had Neil and Andrew meeting before college.

Andrew is in juvie and there is this plan to send letter to other troubled kids as a pen-pal of sorts. Neil is actually Abram in this fic. They meet and write letters. They they meet regularly and call each other.

(They meet in juvie and have a thing for a while and when Andrew moves in with Nicky and Aaron they get phones to talk to each other instead of letters) and then Abram is taken and tortured by his father (he was living with Stuart not on the run) they sort of break up cause Andrew doesn't want to force Neil but Neil "doesn't swing" so they are confused and kinda seperated

that's all I remember reading (omg this turned into a long one so sorry about that)

if y'all find it lemme know <3

this might be it? it's locked on ao3 though so you'll need an account to read it

-rocky

Ink Stains and Paper Cuts by Paradoxolotl (M | 38,089 | 20/20)

Andrew doesn't believe in regret. There's no point in wishing for things that can't be changed after all. He wouldn't go back to stop himself from being thrown in juvie; he had done it to protect a brother he never knew he had. Joining the exy team there was better than being stuck in his cell, even if it was boring. Even the penpal program for troubled youth his therapist put him in ended up giving him a puzzle to play with. That puzzle was 'Hatford'. A boy with a razor tongue and secrets, Andrew can't help but find himself interested in the stranger trading truths with him through poorly written letters. Andrew doesn't believe in regret, but answering that first message may have lead to something he wasn't prepared for. Set before 'Brother of Mine'.

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rajeshiv · 1 year

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ecoursenotepok · 2 years

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tvlandofficial · 1 year

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[ AND NOW, BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM… ]

🖤 -because you still aren't well, Aunt Tenna! It's not right!

📺 I COULD HANDLE THINGS JUST FINE WITH THE WEATHERS, YEAH? THEY NEED ME JUST AS MUCH AS ANYONE.

🖤 This is different! This is a whole kingdom of people-

📺 HEY. KID. EASY.

📺 THIS IS A RULER-TO-RULER CHAT! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.

🖤 …

🖤 You don't have to do anything anymore, Aunt Tenna. If you want to… you can just rest. It'll be okay. Even if everyone's worried about you, they'll manage. I mean, um, not seeing you at all is better than seeing you hurt, right? Haha.

📺 IF I WANTED TO, SURE.

📺 HURT OR NOT, I GOTTA TAKE CARE OF MY CITY. EVEN WITHOUT THE LIGHT PUTTING ME ON THE BIG SCREEN, I STILL GOT A RESPONSIBILITY TO ‘EM.

📺 FOLKS GET HURT EVERY NOW AND THEN. SO’S HOW IT HAPPENS, YEAH?

📺 I’M A LOT BETTER THAN I USED TO BE! AND I’VE BEEN AWAY FOR LONG ENOUGH NOW.

🖤 But it's not the same as a normal injury! You're different from how you used to be. You could get hurt worse.

🖤 And, um, even if you're better… you still have a hard time, don't you? You're able to laugh and smile, but it's harder than it used to be. I know you're very strong! But that doesn't mean that it's not hard sometimes.

📺 I’M STILL YOUR AUNT TENNA, YEAH? I MIGHT’VE CHANGED MORE THAN A COUPLE WAYS, BUT I’M STILL THE SAME TENNA. JUST KNOW A LOT MORE THAN I USED TO.

📺 AND DIFFERENT OR NOT, HARD OR NOT – LIKE I SAID, I GOTTA STEP UP SOONER OR LATER. I GOTTA BE ABLE TO SEE MY CITY OFF, IF NOTHING ELSE.

📺 I’M THE BOSS AROUND HERE. SIMPLE AS THAT.

🖤 Of course you're my Aunt Tenna. It, um, makes sense that you still want to look after everyone. I just want-

🖤 Umm. It's just- it's scary when you push yourself harder than you should.

📺 …

📺 ALRIGHT, KID. LEMME KNOW JUST WHAT YOU’RE SCARED ABOUT, AND I’LL LISTEN UP.

📺 WE CAN TALK IT THROUGH TOGETHER. DARKNER TO DARKNER, YEAH?

🖤 …Yeah. Okay.

🖤 Even doing your best in the past… there were times when you couldn't even convincingly pretend to believe in anything. And, i-it… it hurt you terribly, didn't it? It hurt just to watch. You were always going to lose your purpose, but to not even be able to hide from everyone…

🖤 Um. You believe in something, now, even if it's not your purpose. And, um, it's good! You're doing a wonderful job! But your world is still full of darkness. If looking at it made you feel that way again - if I had to be useless to you again, I… well, it would be terrible.

🖤 You won't do that again, will you? You won't push yourself too far? Because I'd do anything to make sure you're okay, Aunt Tenna.

📺 I KNOW YOU WOULD, KID. YOU’VE DONE SO MUCH FOR ME JUST CHOOSING TO SWING BY.

📺 YOU’RE ONE OF MY GUY’S, YEAH? THAT MEANS WE GOTTA TRADE OFF EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE. I’D DO ANYTHING TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE OKAY, TOO. I PROMISE I WON’T PUSH MYSELF ANY HARDER THAN I GOTTA.

📺 IF THINGS GET SO BAD AS ALL THAT AGAIN, WE’LL FIGURE IT OUT TOGETHER. I’LL STILL BE AROUND FOR WHATEVER YOU NEED. I OWE YOU ONE!

📺 BUT I WANNA TAKE CARE OF MY CITY NOW. FAIR’S FAIR.

🖤 …Fine. You don't understand it by now, so I'll say it directly.

🖤 It isn't just about you. I meant it when I said you couldn't hide it from everyone. Everyone saw what happened, just up until the lights turned out. They're very frightened. Not just for you, but for themselves. I hear them talking when they don't notice I'm nearby. I would say it's something like…

🖤 "If the boss can lose her sense of purpose, what hope do any of us have?" That's what your people seem to be thinking.

🖤 The Darkners here… they're afraid the world is ending. Can you truly lie well enough to make them believe it isn't…?

📺 …

📺 … WELL, THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION.

📺 I’M NOT OFTEN THE FLAT-OUT LYING TYPE. BUT LIKE YOU, I DO HAVE PLENTY OF STAGE TRICKS. YOU’VE SEEN ME USE ‘EM PLENTY OF TIMES BEFORE.

📺 AN ACTOR KNOWS WHEN TO KEEP HER CARDS CLOSE TO HER CHEST. IF MY PEOPLE ARE REALLY THAT SCARED, I’LL TAKE TO A LITTLE IMPROV.

📺 I DUNNO IF I CAN MAKE ‘EM BUY THAT THE WORLD ISN’T ENDING. BUT I CAN SURE TRY TO KEEP ‘EM SAFE ‘TILL IT DOES.

📺 I LOST MY PURPOSE. I STILL GOT HOPE. WHO’S TO SAY THAT WON’T GET ‘EM THINKING, TOO?

🖤 Not everyone is like you, Aunt Tenna. And not everyone has accepted their fate.

🖤 If someone understood… if they truly grasped that they've been abandoned and will disappear soon… if they had seen just enough of your broadcasts to understand what the Dark Worlds are… who's to say that they won't figure out a piece of the truth? What if they break like you did?

🖤 Wouldn't that hurt you, Aunt Tenna? You used to be okay with people being forgotten, so maybe not… but now, it seems like that would make you feel bad.

📺 IT WOULD. BUT THAT HASN’T HAPPENED YET EITHER, HAS IT?

📺 AND I HAVE WAYS TO KEEP ‘EM SAFE, TOO. I CAN KEEP THE HORRORS’ EYES AWAY FROM ‘EM. I CAN TELL AND LEAVE OUT WHAT I WANT. I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO DO MUCH, BUT I GOT A LITTLE MORE CAMERA TRICKS THAN I USED TO.

📺 EITHER WAY, THINKING “WHAT IF” CAN ONLY GET ME SO FAR. I’VE BEEN WORRIED “WHAT IF” ABOUT ALL SORTSA THINGS THIS WHOLE TIME.

📺 I GET WHAT YOU’RE PUTTING DOWN. BUT I STILL WANNA SEE THIS THROUGH. AT THIS POINT – KNOWING EVERYTHING – THE BEST I CAN DO’S JUST LET WHAT HAPPENS HAPPEN.

🖤 …

🖤 You're right. It would happen no matter what you did. If someone's fate is to break, it'll always happen, right? The only difference is who would feel responsible for it.

🖤 …Haha. How could I forget? In every world, every Tenna has broken and continued to rule alone. That's always been how it's meant to be. Of course you'll do it wonderfully. You never needed me at all.

📺 I DUNNO MUCH ABOUT OTHER WORLDS, BUT…

📺 …I’M STILL GLAD I GET TO SEE YOU, KID. FATE OR NO FATE.

🖤 …

📺 …AND HEY, BOSSKID OR NO BOSSKID, MY DOOR’S ALWAYS OPEN. YOU’RE ALWAYS FREE TO STICK AROUND.

🖤 …I should leave for now. There are things I need to do, haha.

📺 THAT RIGHT?

🖤 Castle Town is my kingdom. I'm meant to be a ruler there, too. It's probably getting dusty, a-and I haven't finished the rooms for the heroes, and… I have my own show to put on, too.

🖤 But I won't be gone forever, okay? I'll still come to see you! I've learned that I can do that now, haha. I'll come back whenever I have the time, so… you don't have to worry about that.

📺 TEN-FOUR, KID. I’LL SEE YOU AROUND, YEAH?

🖤 You will. I'll always be there when you want to see me.

🖤 So make sure you're doing a good job, okay? I could always show up when you least expect me, haha!

📺 TEN-FOUR TIMES TWO! HAH!

#BROADCAST #long post #it's hell o'clock but we did it! woo!#some more big plot for you! take a peek!

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the-sophisticated-trader · 11 months

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