#whoah I actually tagged everyone for once!

[shinxeysartgallery]

Where did you get the name ideas for the dinosaur ocs last names?

Scar, Archie, Shana, Judy, and Irwin don't have surnames, but all of the others had theirs taken from their species name. lol Iggy is the one weird one in that regard where her actual surname is also her species name (Iguanodon).

Peter Dactyl - pterodactyl Rémy Rhynchus - rhamphorhynchus Tina Rex - Tyrannosaurus Rex Delilah Dromeus - deltadromeus Andrew Sarchus - andrewsarchus (I literally just split his species name in half lol) Elliot Therium - elasmotherium Kaitlynn Kronos - kronosaurus Yuki Saura - futabasaurus (slightly altered) Olly Ouranos - ouranosaurus Dirk Saber - sabertooth tiger

I know Andrew, Elliot, and Dirk are mammals, but I lump them in with the dinosaurs anyway because they're all old fossils, too. LMAO (But scientifically speaking, those three aren't dinosaurs, just ancient mammals.)

[reader6898]

The Wolfpack Queen

Pairing: OC Talia x Commander Wolffe

Series Summary: Talia joins the Wolfpack as their new medic. Wolffe doesn't understand why everyone likes her. What happens when opposites attract? Sparks will fly between two people who didn't know they needed one another

Series Rating: 18+ (no minors allowed), violence, assault and attempted assault (not descriptive), slavery and mentions of slavery, mentions of prostitution (not descriptive), ptsd, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

Additional tags: future chapters will have chapter warnings because both Wolffe and Talia go through it 😭

Chapter summary: Wolffe and Talia finally meet. Plo Koon suspects Talia might be a Jedi. Wollfe can't seem to get Talia out of his head. Boost and Sinker being a pain in Wolffe's behind as usual

Chapter warning: bit of PTSD from sad memories but that's it. I also apologize for the long chapter

Chapter 5

After you finished up with the two children you sent them on their way with their mother and a few pieces of candy for each of them.

As you cleaned up you thought about the clone that you had seen earlier. You were wondering what he looked like under his helmet that he had never taken off. You knew that he looked like all the other clones but did he have a different hair cut? Did he have any tattoos or piercings? These were the type of questions that you wanted answered. You could just ask who he was but you didn’t want to intrude on this guy's personal space.

As you thought about all of it you were so in the zone that you didn't notice Jax had come up to you until he tapped you on the shoulder. You jumped a little and Jax took a step back. "Whoah, it's just me."

After you came down from the heart attack that Jax didn't mean to give you you looked up at him. "Sorry." " Are you alright, mesh'la?" That name again. You had been called that quite a few times not just by Jax but by other clones as well. You had wondered what it meant but right now you didn't want to ask. Not that you minded being called that anyway. You actually kinda like it when they use that term of endearment. It makes you feel special when they call you by that name.

You nodded your head. "Yeah. Just…thinking." Jax gave you a smile. "Must be thinking pretty hard then." You returned his smile. "Yeah." "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that you can go ahead and take a break." "Thanks. I'll just finish up and then I'll go take my break." Jax nodded. "You did really well today." "You think so? I was really nervous." "I do. And there was no need for you to be nervous. I had full confidence in you." You blushed a little at his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had been praised like that. "Thanks. I..feel better knowing that." Jax laughed a little. "Glad I could make your day, mesh'la."

After your little conversation with him Jax walked away and you finished up at your station. Once you were done you packed up your med pack and put it under the little table you had set up for your station then once you had everything put away you went on your break, knowing that you would be here on the planet for a little longer.

As you were taking a walk around the village you bought some food from a couple of vendors and ate while  you looked around at everything. Even with all the destruction that happened the place was still very beautiful. It actually reminded you of the village that you came from and you couldn’t help but feel sad. You were never going to go back there but it’s not like you could anyway. While it had been years since you were in your village you were pretty sure that everything was gone by now. Besides, who would want to go back to a place where nightmares and terror were built on? You shook yourself out of your memories and threw the rest of your little kebob onto the ground for a couple of dogs to eat once you realized that you were no longer hungry.

You continued your little walk and as you came around the corner you ran into general Plo Koon and the man you saw looking at you earlier. You stood at attention and saluted your general. “Sir.” “Ah, Talia. At ease, little one.” You put your arm down and stood in front of the two men. “It is nice to finally see you out of the medbay. Are you enjoying it?” You looked up at the kel dor. “Y-yes, sir. It’s a nice change of pace.” You could feel the other man staring down at you but you didn’t make eye contact with him.

Your barriers had gone up the moment you ran into the two of them so right now you were being very cautious as you didn’t have a clue of who he was. You were also trying to hide the sadness in your face but with a jedi around you were certain that he could feel it and if he did he didn’t mention it. “That is good to hear, young one. Will you be joining us more often?” You nodded your head. “I believe so. I think Jax wants me to get more field experience.” While you couldn’t see it you could tell that the kel dor was smiling behind his mask. “We will be happy to have you join us anytime, Talia.” You gave the general a small smile as he turned to the man standing next to him. “Have you met my commander yet?” “No, sir. I..I’ve been busy.” This time you did look over at the man who you were now guessing was his commander. “Well, I guess now is a good time to introduce you two. This is commander Wolffe and Wolffe, this is our other medic, Talia.” You held your hands together in front of you as you looked up at him with an innocent look. “Hello.”

Since Wolffe was still wearing his helmet you couldn’t see the way his jaw was clenched as he saw how beautiful you looked up more in person. After what felt like an eternity Wolffe manages to unclench his jaw to break the silence between the two of you. “Ma’am.” You gave him a little smile before looking back at Plo Koon. “I best be on my way, sir. It was nice seeing you again.” “Likewise. And if you need to talk to me about anything, you can always come find me, my dear.” “Thank you, sir.” You saluted both of them and hurried on your way back to the medbay.

Both of them watched you walk away and Plo Koon couldn’t help but feel that there was something special about you. It was just like when he first met you. It was the same feeling that a jedi gets when they feel a new youngling’s power. But you couldn’t be. You’re a little old for that. Or could you be? The kel dor stroked his face and Wolffe looked over at him. “Something wrong, general?” The general shook his head. “Nothing is wrong, Wolffe. I will be back. I have to make contact with someone.” Wolffe saluted Plo Koon and watched as his general walked away.

As soon as he made it to the bridge on the ship Plo Koon contacted the rest of the council and told them what he had felt with you. “Are you sure she is one of us, Plo?”, Obi-Wan asked. The kel dor stood with his arms behind his back. “Yes, I believe this young woman has the powers of a jedi, Obi-Wan. I have not seen her use them but I feel that she is strong with the force. I felt it the first time I met her and today I felt it again when my commander and I ran into her.”

Mace Windu looked at him. “If what you say is true and this woman does have the force then it is already too late for her. She is too old to be trained as a jedi. If we had found her when she was younger then it would’ve been possible for her to be trained.” Yoda looked at Plo Koon. “Keep an eye on her , you must. Bring her to us next time you are planet-side, you will. We will see if she is truly one of us.”

Plo Koon bowed his head. “As you wish.” Plo Koon hung up the call and stood there at the holotable for a moment. If you truly had powers of a jedi then yes it would be too late for you but Plo Koon had a plan. If you were a jedi then he could at least teach you how to protect yourself with your powers.But first he would have to watch and see if you had any powers at all.

Wolffe couldn’t get you out of his head. For the rest of the day you were the only thing on his mind and no matter what he did you were all Wolffe could think about. He was so fixated on thinking about you that he didn’t notice that Sinker and Boost had joined him at the table he was sitting at for dinner until a roll was thrown at his head. Wolffe snapped out of it and snarled at his brothers for throwing food at him.

“The kriff was that for?” Boost snickered as Sinker looked at their commander. “You were daydreaming, vod. You had us worried for a second when you didn’t hear us calling you.” Wolffe rolled his eyes. “I’m fine you di’kuts.” “If you say so.” The three of them eat in silence until Boost speaks. “So what were you thinking about?” “None of your kriffin business,” Wolffe mutters through a fork full of food. Boost leans over to Sinker and whispers something in his ear and the two of them silently agree with each other . Wolffe glares at them. “What are you whispering about?” Boost sits up straight and they go back to their food, acting like nothing happened. “Nothing.”

Wolffe lets out a long sigh. “Please, enlighten me with whatever the two of you were just agreeing on. I am not in the mood to play games and if you don’t tell me right now the two of you will be on latrine duty for the next week.” Wolffe’s brothers paled at that thought and cleared their throats before talking. “Well, we were just thinking..that..maybe..you were possibly..” “Thinking about Talia”, Boost shouts as he finishes Sinker’s sentence. Wolffe sat there silently and didn’t say anything. Both their eyes go wide. “You were, weren’t you?” Boost elbows Sinker in the arm with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I told you our vod was thinking about her.”

Both of them laugh as Wolffe stares at them from across the table. “I was not thinking about that natborn.” Sinker catches his breath before speaking while Boost continues to chuckle. “It’s not the end of the world, Wolffe. We’ve all thought about her so don’t worry about being the only one.” Wolffe is now glaring at the two of them but his brothers don’t care as they continue being a pain in his ass. Wolffe ignores them as he finishes his food then stands up. “You two di’kuts are getting latrine duty.” “Oh, come on!” “No fair!” Wolffe walks away from them as they try to get him to come back but he continues ignoring them as he heads back to his tent.

Later that night as Wolffe lies on his cot in the darkness he thinks about what Boost and Sinker said. They were right: he had been thinking about you. He didn’t know what it was about you. You were still on his mind even now. Whatever it was about you, you had completely entranced him and he had just met you earlier that day. It was like you had put all of them, including Wolffe, into a trance and now they couldn’t escape. But was that such a bad thing? Wolffe wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he had completely misjudged you just from a few simple comments that shinies had said about you in passing.

 You didn’t seem like a bad person and now he regrets not introducing himself to you in the first place. He was just as curious about you as everyone else was and it made him feel sick to his stomach.  Wolffe groaned as he covered his face with his pillow and lied there for a while with his thoughts.

If he didn’t talk to you soon he was going to go mad. Maker, he felt like a shiny straight off Kamino. Wolffe sighed as he placed his pillow back behind his bed and lies back down. Wolffe didn’t know how he was going to make it with you around. But he did know one thing: he didn’t want to lose you. So he came up with a plan to talk to you tomorrow if the two of you weren’t busy.

As soon as Wolffe was satisfied with his plan he rolled over onto his side to try to get some sleep. He continued lying there for a little while longer before the stress of the day finally caught up to him. Wolffe closes his eyes and is soon falling into a deep sleep, dreaming of you and the coming day.

Tagging: @cloneloverrrrr @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @523rdrebel @cw80831 @moonlightwarriorqueen @rexxdjarin @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @deejadabbles @eternal-transcience @starrylothcat

[live-digital-love]

♡ Mitsuyame / Higatano | Manhunt

♡ Eventual fluff.

♡ Playful bickering.

♡ Ayame agrees to a certain deal after Mitch makes it sound appealing; only, it results in... "a happy accident."

♡

Game day. Game day, game day, game day.

The day that the classes all get together and compete against one another in a sort of school-wide competition. Like... when you're a kid in school and it's field day. Only for this, the school is considered fair playing ground, and from what she's heard, everything is on the table.

The last game was something called... 'Manhunt.' It was like tag, but more than just running. It starts with one hunter, and everyone else playing the game is a target. When you get tagged, you become a hunter, and have to hunt down everyone else. Night had already fallen, so the game is to be played in the dark. One of many dangerous factors that made it all the more exciting in theory. Someone even announced over the PA system when a player was tagged.

The only important rule was: Don't get tagged. Which, while it was very, very easy, made the game not... that fun when she wasn't a hunter.

No one tried going near her after long enough. They either didn't want to try or didn't want her to let them tag her out of pity.

⠀

Now, Ayame crouched in the dark, listening to everything move around her. About half of her classmates were still free, if she's been keeping count right. It wasn't long until a new announcement was made.

'Mitsuhiro Higa has been tagged!'

Not ten minutes after that, she finally heard something to her right. Her head snapped towards the sound, and as it turned out, it was another player. Specifically, it was Mitsuhiro.

Ayame sprung up, quickly moving to keep about twenty-five feet between them, at least. He's fast. If he tried to spring at her, she needed space to move.

⠀

Her opponent froze at this, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whoah, slow down. No need to get spooked. I'm only here to make an offer, not tag you. Pinky promise."

"Make an offer? We're playing a game right now. Why do you want to make an offer to me?"

"'Cause I get the feeling we both know this game's a bit unfair. I mean... come on. No offense to our classmates, but they've got two of the fastest athletes in the world playing for themselves. The orange-haired chick knew we'd both demolish anyone else, tha's why she's not playing. Prob'ly other nerdy bullshit too.

But point is: if you hadn't heard..."

Mitch trailed off, lazily pointing one arm up at the PA system hanging in the corner of the room.

"I let myself get tagged already."

Ayame blinked a few times at the television. What... is his point, exactly? Just pointing out they're on opposite teams? "Right. So now you want to tag me because I'm still free."

"Not it, princess. If I did wanna tag you, I woulda got you already. My offer is: You pretending I tagged you."

Her gaze trailed back to him, blinking even slower this time. This is making less and less sense the more he speaks. "Why would I do that?"

⠀

A strained chuckle escaped Mitsuhiro. His hands came up to rub his face, as if the whole conversation was exhausting him. He mumbled something into his hands... (it sounded like: "goddamn, girl, for the fastest person here, your brain sure as hell isn't..." but she wasn't entirely sure,) before peeking through his fingers.

"Two of the fastest athletes in the entire school, remember? If people think you got tagged, they're gonna shit themselves when they see both of us coming. If I don't tag you, once I get everyone else, it'll just be us left. Then you win."

"Well... don't you want to win?"

"Can't a guy just wanna help a girl out sometimes?"

She paused to consider his question, then shook her head no.

"... Damn. Well, this guy does. All I want is a nice, clean competition between me n' you. And I can't have that if there's other people out and about. You herd people to me, I tag 'em, we go until 's only us left, and we have a race across the school to see who's actually the best.

Let's be honest:

You've got the speed, but I've got the endurance. We both know I can catch you. I just wanna prove it to the whole class."

⠀

She frowned slightly. Her classmates have said he's a jerk in the past, but... maybe he could be telling the truth? Maybe? Possibly? Well. With his reputation, probably not.

"... You want to chase me to prove that you think you can keep up with me, just to boost your own ego. When, no, there's no way that you can actually catch me."

"Don't go and hurt my pride like that, fuck! Look--- I'm not only in it for my ego. I win, I get bragging rights; you win, you win the manhunt game and I'll take you out to dinner or something, okay?"

He very clearly forced a smile as he held out a hand. It wasn't even kinda hidden.

"Shake on the deal?"

⠀

Ayame considered it. Considered it more. It might not be bad. It might even be fun, to race someone that poses a competition to her again. She hasn't had that in a long time. And she might win something that isn't a race, if she can outrun him. Winning a class game and actually trying for it sounds really cool.

And he doesn't seem... too bad to work with. Right now.

Having made up her mind, Ayame nodded. She initially moved to take his hand, then--- brought it back quickly. "Wait. If you touch me, I'll be tagged, right?"

A sly, sly smirk lit up his features. He licked his teeth through his smile in satisfaction. "Heh, you got me. It was worth a shot."

"The gesture stands. We have a deal, Mitsuhiro."

Her now-ally suddenly cringed, his whole body dramatically turning away. "It's Mitch, okay? Cut it, you sound like my mom when you talk like that."

"I'm... sorry? I didn't know. But, okay. We have a deal, Mitch."

Mitch went to say something likely snarky, then sighed. "Yeah, whatever, I get it. C'mon, let's go give our classmates heart attacks."

"Only pretend heart attacks?"

"Sure. We'll see."

♡

She had to admit: that was fun.

Just as Mitch said, everyone who wasn't tagged yet panicked and took off running once they both came into view. She darted out ahead of them to make them slow down, and Mitch came up from behind and tagged them all. Ayame made sure to dart away once they were, and somehow, no one seemed to notice that her name hadn't gone over the speaker yet.

They rounded up everyone in their class this way, working together surprisingly well. Mitch naturally took on a more defensive position, allowing Ayame to guide the other players as she pleased, and waited for the right moment to spring to life and close the distance. She couldn't deny that he was fast. Really fast. The longer she watched him play, though, the more clear his weakness was: his endurance was high, but his stamina was shockingly low.

His strategy seemed to be blitzing at near max speed only for a few seconds, then falling back down to something much more comfortable to keep up the chase rather than maintaining a steady pace. Even then, he kept going for a long time before needing to fully stop.

He might be able to outlast her if he's calculated enough. As long as she can keep distance, he'll keep falling behind. When he made the bet, Mitch had to have been banking on her tiring herself out and him closing the distance after long enough.

⠀

Thus, when they got to the track and prepared for the final race:

"I have a timer I keep on my side for things like this. I'll give you thirty seconds to catch me."

Her again-opponent scoffed. When she turned to look back at him, she caught his eyes darting up to hers. Huh. Weird. "Only thirty? Why's that?"

"That's after I've hit my breaking point and have to slow down to keep going. If you really want to show off that you can catch me at my top speed, there's no point in giving you more time after I've slowed down. It might be after the point where you start slowing down, too, but I'd have to watch your form longer to know for sure."

He stared at her blankly. Then, raised his hands in mock defense once again and smiled. "Note to self: only question the runner about anything regarding running if you want her to ramble about it. Got it."

She huffed out a frown. "You asked me a question and I answered it."

"C'mon, don't take that the wrong way, it was cute. That's the most I've heard you say all day, princess. 's just that the only way it would've been more nerdy is if you started explainin' the sciency parts of it all."

"... Do you mean basic biology?"

Ayame rolled her eyes, setting the timer and leaning down over the track. "You can stop calling me that, for one."

"Whatever you say, princess."

She watched him do the same out of the corner of her eye. She could hear another grin light up his features. "What, getting tired of that one? How about Momma instead, since you talk so much like one?"

He kept going, amusing himself over more and more pet names, while she counted quietly. It isn't cheating. If he wasn't talking, he would have heard it. Really. And because he was, he wasn't ready when she finally started the timer and yelled: "Go!"

She heard Mitch take off late, sputtering over himself as he darted forward. "Hey! You know that ain't fair, Momma!"

"You should've been paying attention, uh- Dad-da! Nope, that's weird."

"Add a Y, and then it'll work that way, princess!"

⠀

That just sounds stupid. Whatever. She tried and failed to come up with a comeback to that, so all of her attention went to staying on the track. And just as she anticipated, Mitch fell into the same pattern he took on earlier: only now, fit with playful teasing. He let her put distance between them, then blitzed closer, then fell back.

He's keeping with her somehow. There's no way he can be keeping pace without pushing himself too hard. This was fun when he suggested it, but she doesn't want him to hurt himself. But she also doesn't want to lose.

Think, think, think... what to do to keep her lead without going so fast that he'll hurt himself to keep up?

He's not used to the track, but it seems to be helping him well enough despite this. From how short his bursts are, he was going faster earlier, though. Why? It's just a difference in...

Turf. He was faster going through turf, because he's wearing cleats!

If he won't slow himself down, maybe she can make him.

⠀

With that thought in mind, Ayame slowed and then suddenly darted towards the school building, avoiding any grass like the plague. Mitch picked up the pace. Thankfully, shortly after Ayame burst into the building, her theory was proven... half right:

Mitch cried out a second after she hit the tile, cursing as his feet slid out from under him. Somehow, though, he still kept up. If anything, she heard him fall into a steady sprint over his short bursts.

Final option: up the stairs, into a classroom.

The sound of metal spiked cleats scraping tile is a horrible one. Someone lost his footing again at the stairwell. But he was on her, still, despite all of this, and got way too close for comfort as she slowed even more to save energy and sling into a classroom.

He's not slowing down, at all.

Is he crazy? Does he not know what he's doing to himself!?

As a last ditch effort, Ayame vaulted over desks to put something between her and her pursuer; finally sending herself over the teacher's podium, pulling it down over her as she fell to the ground behind it.

⠀

He slammed into the wall above her so hard, he shook the whole room. Not even half a second after she hit the floor. One second passed after that, and a piercing beeping rang out.

The timer, still clipped to her shorts.

Mitch had already started leaning down, but froze the second the timer rang. He straightened back up, forcing out a wheezing chuckle. His words floated through huffs, and it sounded like a lot of effort went into pushing them out clearly. "You... you're a cheater... huh, princess? Going... in the school..."

She chuckled herself, shaking her head. It was a good workout. She actually broke a sweat. But she can't deny that she's worried. "You never said I couldn't. You okay after that? I didn't think your body could handle staying that close."

His breath turned harsh, then words fell into incoherent mumbling. He was definitely trying to say something. That isn't good.

"Mitch?"

Muttering.

"Mitsuhiro?"

Nothing.

Oh no.

She stuck her head out from under her 'distraction,' looking up to fully see Mitch, still standing over her, but barely.

He was already drenched and dripping in sweat, his entire body heaving with each heavy pant. He's shaking... He's trembling just to hold himself up over her.

Ayame slid out from under the podium, about to tell her 'rival' that he's pushed himself too far, but he did it for her. A shudder ran down his whole body, and with one last gasp; his eyes lulled, and his head followed, and his knees buckled. His body hit the floor with a horrible thud once it finally gave out.

⠀

All of the exhaustion drained away as she rose, quickly going to the collapsed man's side. A moment's panic. Not knowing what else to do, Ayame took Mitch into her arms the best she could and initially tried to pick him up. It turns out that a roughly sixty-six kilogram guy feels much, much heavier when he's unconscious. She resorted to dragging him down the hall instead.

"I should've known he'd be that petty. Why did I agree to this? I don't know what yet, but I'm gonna do something if he wakes up and tries to have a rematch..."

It didn't take long for someone to find them and help her take Mister I-Cant-Regulate-Myself-Healthily to the nurse's office. There she sat by his side, for the next hour, as conflicting feelings welled within her.

On one hand, she shouldn't have even agreed to a race if she knew he'd do this to win.

On the other, it was the most fun she's had in a long time.

On one hand, she has to help keep her fellow classmates safe, even if they're temporary competitors.

On the other, it isn't really her fault that he didn't know his limits, right? She tried to slow him down.

⠀

Thoughts like these whirled through her mind until... he finally stirred. A soft hiss escaped as he tried to move his legs, which made him try to peek at his surroundings, which made him groan in even more pain. He did hit the ground very, very hard. And likely tore muscle, if not irritating it beyond belief. There was a long pause before he opened his eyes again, slowly looking around the room he's in now.

That same smirk as before still tugged at his eyes as he took her in, taking the time to process every last bit of her and him and where they are annoyingly slow.

It made her grow anxious. "What is it? Do you need something?"

The words had a clear slur to them, some blending together and coming out slowly. "Not much. Jus' a few more seconds."

"... Of what?"

"Of the angel 'm lookin' at, beautiful. Can't believe you waited for a dumbass like me."

Ayame straightened up at this, growing rigid at the shift in words and tone. This was... sweet, compared to the teasing things he said earlier. Mitsuhiro, saying something sweet? He really does have a concussion.

She scoffed softly. "You need to go back to sleep. You're clearly still delirious."

"Huh? Whaddaya... mean? Do I look funny?"

"The Mitch I've heard wouldn't say stuff like that unless he's impaired, like right now."

He groaned, yet now, not in pain. "Really? Aww, that guy's an asshole. Look: I've gotten hit in the head so, so many times. Way too much. I know what 'm saying well enough, beautiful."

He grinned widely, now. "I know I mean it. I jus' can't think enough for the asshole guy to change what I wanna say. That's the difference. I know it so much, I wanna make another deal."

⠀

Her eyes only narrowed. Surely he can't be serious.

Yet, he... was, now straining to piece together the words he supposedly really wanted to say. "No, don't do that. Please? I know this is... way outta left field, but I wanna try while I've got you here. My deal was to take you out to dinner. Give me one night, and if it doesn't work out, I'll go away. Gone, for good. No more asshole. We got a deal?"

... Huh. Odd. She thought, and thought, and eventually reasoned that maybe giving this... 'not an asshole' Mitsuhiro a chance might be worth it. After all, if it led to another concussion, it might not be so bad. Because he's nicer. Not because she wants him to get brain damage. That would be horrible.

Either way, she crossed her arms neatly under her chest and sat back in her seat.

She's smiling. But she better not regret this.

"Okay. We have a deal, Mitch."

[cosmiclatte28]

POOL (YUTA X READER)

Hello!! I'm finally back with a story! I hope it's not like a beginner story but oh well i tried!

Tw : surrounded by males. Pool game, touching without consent

Net @superm-net @multifandomnet tagging @neopalette

Here we go!! Thanks for reading hope this is enjoyable

Friday night, the awaited day has finally come! All the fatigue of the week is expected to be drowned in lots of fun games and by sharing laughter. You sit nicely on one of the corner of the common room, casually playing with your mobile phone while you wait for your best friend, Mark, rushed back to his room because he forgot his wallet. You tap your heeled boots to the rhythm of a song playing in your earpods and hum along to the lyrics. 

As you throw your eyes to the big window panel that shows you the picturesque scenery of purple sky, your smile brightens when you hear Mark's footsteps approaching you. 

"Come on, the boys are already waiting! We'll gather at Johnny's dorm as he has the most game options in the common room there." Mark explains as both of you start taking steps down through the stairs.

"Well, blame the students here for stealing the pool ball." You giggle when you remember checking the pool table with Mark earlier and found out that it was empty. 

"Right, well we can always hit the club to play but I guess Johnny's dorm has complete balls there." Mark gently opens the door for you and soon after the two of you are already in front of Johnny's dorm. 

You can see the guys gathered near the pool table and at the table soccer place.  You shrug your shoulder when Mark noticed there's no other girl.

"You wanna bring your friends?" Mark offers after greeting Johnny. 

You shake your head "I'm good. Just Johnny, introduce me to these hot people." You wink and both Johnny and Mark, who knew you by heart, just nod their heads.

There are not many boys, actually the lobby is empty and there's only Johnny, you, Mark and three other guys you never met before. 

Mark just greets them but from the vibes,you know he also just knew these guys. 

Johnny claps and catches the attentions of the boys who were chatting. 

"Guys, meet (y/n) and (y/n) meet Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Yuta." The Chicago man points to the guy with a dimple, a guy with a sharp jaw and super small face. He looks so godly, and lastly to a guy who smiles so sweetly but in a mere of second after shaking your hand can give you a super sinful smirk. 

You blink one time after shaking all of their hands, whoah did you really just hit the jackpot and you're standing in front of three deadly handsome people. 

"So, Johnny said we could play pool because I guess everyone knows how to." Mark moves to take the sticks and hands it down to the people.

"I haven't played lately, I used to play for fun three years ago." You rub your neck, feeling shy that you're surrounded by tall people.

Jaehyun smiles, "You sure? What if suddenly you're super good?" 

The boys burst into a laughter "Nah, she looks amateur." Johnny teases you and you are totally fine with it. 

You shrug your shoulder "We'll see, so how do we play?" 

Taeyong smartly suggests making a team of two and just have four of us play first and the winner can go up against the best, in this case Jaehyun and Johnny. 

"I'll play with (y/n)!" Yuta calmly assign the team and everyone else agrees. You don't mind playing with anyone because you don't want to make yourself too confident too and be embarrassed if you lose.

Yuta made a nice opening shot, breaking the balls to different direction. Everyone cheers when Mark already pockets his first solid color. 

"We're doing stripes now (y/n), don't be nervous." Yuta helps you aim for a ball. You can feel your stiff playing, well there's no warm up so you're just trying your best and at least your hits are accurate.

Yuta claps when you pocket two balls inside "Whoah you're not bad." He high fives you and your heart grows warmer. Well it's either your happiness of playing the game well or his sweet smile. 

Taeyong is the hidden ace card, on his turn he almost finishes pocketing his solids but one missed shot and Yuta is taking over the table now. 

Despite Yuta's precise shots, your team still has two more balls because you did some mistakes earlier and that aided the other team.

Johnny and Jaehyun are just enjoying it, keeping calm and helping the four of you play. 

"(Y/N), try this." Johnny shows you a steadier way of placing your fingers to give friction on the stick. 

"I am not used to it, I'll stick to mine." You tried to aim but feel something's off with your hand. 

Yuta chuckles and stands next to you "Go like this, and excuse me," He shows you his hand position and after you copy it, he suddenly holds your hand and help you aim. His bigger frame cages your shorter body and he helps you move the stick so you get the feeling.

Your heart skip a beat and you can feel your cheeks go red. No one made a comment as they are all busy watching the ball and trying to calculate the game. 

Yuta smirks when he sees your red face, he lets go off you and steps back. "Got it? Now do that it will make your shot 90% accurate." 

You focus on what he taught and sure enough put two more balls inside. 

But on the next attempt, you missed and that means it's Mark's turn to play.

"Oh dude we only need to pocket 8!" Mark was so happy and Taeyong just remains calm.

"Okay  call the pocket Mark or it's not counted." Jaehyun calmly examines the table. 

Mark thinks for a while and finally goes with the upper right corner. Everyone holds their breath when Mark made his shot, the ball bounced and rolled and made it into the hole… another hole, not the one he called.

"Fuuuckkkk" mark yelled and taeyong only laughs. 

You are still confused but Yuta is clapping so hard with Johnny "We won by default!!" Yuta explains to you and you laugh "So we're going against Johnny?" 

Johnny just keeps teasing Mark about losing and Mark is still agonizing himself. 

Jaehyun already rearranges the balls and this time, you got the honors to do the first hit. 

"Just hit super hard." Yuta advises you, and as you start to warm up from the first game, your hit makes a nice sound and the balls roll around the tables.

"Sweet, that was nice!" Jaehyun whistles as he realizes there's not much good shot for any of the balls. 

The hot man tries to attempt a short hit. He places the stick behind his back and gracefully tries to hit a solid near the hole, but he missed and you smirk. 

You've learned about the back hit before and you were once good at it. 

It is your turn now and Johnny takes a look on the table "(y/n), do you want to try do the short aim like Jaehyun did? It looks hard but it's not." 

Yuta was trying to find another possibility but looks like doing what Johnny said is the best option.

"But she might not have the height to do it." Mark blurts a comment and Yuta was ready to throw punches. You, however, only quietly bring yourself up the table. You sit on the edge and place the stick behind your back. 

"Ohh looking nice girl," Johnny comments on your posture and your aiming direction.

You move your right hand and give a very nice strong spot on hit on the stripe.

"Woah" Jaehyun and Yuta both scream and clap. You just smile "Guess I still have it." 

Johnny gives you a thumbs up and Mark is left speechless. The rest of the game happens quite fast since Johnny keeps pocketing all solids and Yuta backs you up a lot leaving you with two stripes but Jaehyun is already trying to pocket the last 8 ball.

"Come on we got this (y/n)!" Yuta cheers you up when Jaehyun missed the shot. 

You try to not feel nervous and gather your focus.

One clean shot, and the boys all have their jaws opened.

"Wait what? She did that?!" They were surprised when you made one clean shot and now you're boldly striding across the table  aiming for your last stripe.

"Take it easy." Yuta whispers and hints you which side of the ball you should hit. 

You aid his words and true enough you pocket the last stripe.

Now everyone has their eyes on you. "The last 8 ball! If you pocket this and call the right pocket, we win.. but once you miss its their win!" Mark tries to make you worked up but that makes you super nervous instead.

"Yuta do you want to do it?" You plead but he shakes his head "No, it's your turn. You should do it. It's okay to miss. It's only a game." He squeezes your shoulder and bends to match your height 

"Go hit that side and call the middle left pocket. I know you will win it." He pats your shoulder and leaves you a space. 

You take a deep breath, Johnny is watching you from the aimed hole. He also looks nervous and you did your shot. 

"Yayyyy!!!!" Jaehyun screams when you missed by a hair on the aimed hole. Johnny is already screaming around with Jaehyun too  laughing at how they win because you missed the ball.

You grin and Yuta pulls you into a hug "Great job girl! That was a nice game!" He ruffles your hair.

You freeze in his hug and pull back "What? You're okay with me making us lose?" 

You almost say sorry for messing it up, but Yuta already shuts you up. "Nope. It's a game and I'm having fun! i don't need to win, i just love spending my Friday like this!" He pinches your cheek and you blush. 

"We can play more if you want," Jaehyun already has the table ready. 

You glance to Yuta and after sending a quiet conversation with your eyes you click your tongue 

"Let Mark and Taeyong play, the winner play against us." You hand the sticks over and pull Yuta away to the side. 

"While they play, why don't we get something to eat? i haven't eaten dinner." You cock your head to the side.

Yuta gives his warm smile and touches your cheek "Okay cutie, let's do that. Look at you hitting on me smooth like butter.

You wink and Yuta only snickers "We'll see who is the better flirt-er then!"

End

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Guerrerita, Part 3

 <- Part 2

Summary: The first time you met Nevada Ramirez was also in a dark alley. 

1,577 words

“You owe me.”

“What?” you hissed, whipping around to face the threatening voice. You kept your face hard, showing no sign of weakness, even as you saw the three intimidating men who had followed you into the alley outside a shady, semi-legal MMA tournament.

“I had a lot of money riding on that fight,” said the shortest of the three, tsk-tsking. His shoes were shiny black leather—expensive, but tacky. He held a cigarette between his teeth when he wasn’t speaking and wore all black except for the gold cross flashing around his neck, pendant resting in a bed of dark chest hair. The two flanking him were bulky heavyweights, over six feet, at least two hundred-fifty pounds a piece, which meant you probably couldn’t take them. Not both at once. They dwarfed the center guy, but they were waiting on his signal to do anything. The small one was the brains. The boss. He was the one you had to keep your eyes on.

“So what? Not my problem.”

You shrugged your gym bag over you shoulder and turned to leave, but his goons stepped forward sharply, ready to grab you, and you thought better of it. As much as you’d rather not show them you were scared, this was the kind of dangerous you didn’t turn your back on.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I’m playing? You come into my town, looking like a nervous mousy little rookie. Oh, pobrecita bebita, que tierna,” he mocked baby-talk at you, pouting his lips. “Get everyone betting against you, then the bell rings and you turn into a wild fucking animal. You run a hustle on my turf? Way I see it, that is your problem.”

Your left nostril began to twitch and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. “Then get some fucking glasses.” A small voice inside begged frantically, don’t do this now, calm down, but it was already drowned out by a dark, reckless pulsing in your ears. You didn’t like being threatened. Somewhere along the line your stubborn refusal to take any more shit from assholes turned into a fury you couldn’t control, that overrode your own self-preservation. Your bruised fists curled for another fight.

The boss just laughed, a harsh, barking, sarcastic show of power. His men stayed put, for now. “What a dirty mouth. Little warrior here, huh? I like that, I like that.” He prowled toward you, a crooked smirk without teeth bending his neatly trimmed stubble. If he wasn’t such a scumbag you would have called him handsome. Maybe that was what kept you at bay, apart from the knowledge that the second you launched yourself at him in a hail of fists, the two big guys would kill you—because his face was too pretty to bloody up. “Guerrerita, you don’t know who you’re fucking with.”

“You want money, go after the bookies. They’re the ones making bank,” you challenged, taking a few backwards steps to keep distance from him. “I don’t know what kind of hustle you think I’m running, but I bet my last fifty bucks on myself and I’ll still be lucky to make rent. I am not giving a cut to some wannabe gangsters.” You planted your feet at the spot where the alley curved and some old shipping crates created a pinch-point where your smaller size might afford some advantage, and refused to back off another inch.

He stopped, keeping several feet of distance, too. Taking one last drag, he threw his cigarette butt down and crushed it out.

“I’m the King of the Heights, sweetheart,” he explained, as if that should mean anything to you. “Nevada Ramirez.” He extended a hand to shake, and you dropped into a defensive stance. You didn’t like the way he looked you up and down, scrutinizing you with a gaze that made goosebumps rise along your arms. Your muscles twitched in anger and terror, and you tried to balance the two emotions so you could maybe get home in one piece.

“Alright, Mr. Ramirez. Why don’t you and your boys back the fuck off and let me go home. Because you try to follow me, rough me up? I promise it won’t be worth your time. You watched me fight. Before your boys back there can take me down, I’ll have your balls shoved down your goddamn throat. And yeah, you can have your boys shoot me dead.” You noticed the muscle had reached for concealed weapons the moment their boss got within range of your fists. “But what a waste. I’ve never done anything to you. I’m not a threat to your… kingdom? Not unless you attack me first. So why don’t we both just go about our merry ways in peace?”

He laughed again. Dry. Harsh. Your defiance entertained him, but he was growing impatient.

“What makes you think you can tell me how to run this town?” The hard edge to his voice raised the hairs on the back of your neck. As much as you liked to think you’d hit rock bottom and didn’t give a damn anymore, you’d never been murdered. As many impulsive fights as you’d gotten yourself into, you had never been so sure that losing would result in your body in a bag. He smiled when you had no more snappy comebacks, relishing the growing fear in your eyes. His posture opened up, suddenly all friendly. “You’ve got me all wrong. No one’s gonna kill you, guerrerita.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to know what’s a high-class broad like you doing here?” He raised his eyebrows. His knowing grin sent a jolt down your spine, and he looked satisfied by your reaction, which confirmed his assumption.

Nevada could read people, and he could smell suburbs on you. Nice house. Good family. Educated. White picket fence and a dog. Apparently he couldn’t smell the trauma or the failed stint in the Marines thanks to your occasional but fun penchant for sucker punching assholes without thought to rank.

“What’s it to you?” Your teeth ground together. Like hell you’d ever tell him that story.

“You owe me for that stunt in there. And I know how you can pay me back.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Good luck if you think my family will pay you ransom. You think I’d be here if—”

“Work for me.”

Your mind went blank. For several seconds you stared, wondering if you’d heard him right. Finally you blurted incredulously, “What?”

“Come work for me, and we call your debt even.” He looked you up and down again with a smirk. “Bet you clean up into some nice arm candy, classy girl like you.”

You took another step back despite yourself, stomach turning. “No fucking way. I don’t need a pimp, and if you even think of touching me I swear to fucking god...” Your voice turned into a threatening snarl as disgust turned to rage. Your muscles twitched, ready to do as much damage to his handsome, jeering face as possible before being killed. You would rather die than go through that again.

“Whoah, easy,” Nevada laughed, putting his hands up in surrender, but with enough dripping mockery to make it a power move. “Nothing like that. Security.”

“Security?”

“You get knocked in the head too many times?” he raised his eyebrows over his shoulder back at his guys, and they laughed along like trained seals. “Think about where you are. You just won a contest for beating the shit outta people. Security.”

“You want me to be a bodyguard?”

“Now she gets it,” he smiled, and it was pure delight. “Enforcers that look the part are a dime a dozen—face full of scars, covered in macho tats. They send a certain message, don’t they? Usually the intimidating shit is what you want. But some situations call for a bit more… nuance than these pendejos.” He jerked his thumb toward the giant brawlers still lurking behind him. One of them sulked. “You could be subtle. When business requires I don’t advertise I brought muscle. Imagine it,” his tongue darted over his lower lip. “Put you in a dress two sizes too small, and nobody sees you coming until your fist is through their skull. I bet folks underestimate you all the time.”

You almost laughed that the idea of protecting him when he must have known you’d just as soon put a fist through his skull. Working with criminals didn’t sit well with you. Though your life had been one downhill spiral since all the shit that kicked you off your shining life trajectory, you had never done anything illegal. If you didn’t count misdemeanor battery. Which you didn’t. You only punched assholes who deserved it. And you were fairly sure this Nevada Ramirez character deserved it. You didn’t trust him, and you did not take well to being shaken down.

But then he said people underestimated you. His eyes were the color of the sky before thunder: bright, ominous, and flashing dangerously. And when he said it, his bright eyes locked straight onto yours, like he knew. For the first time in your life, it felt like someone was seeing you, the deepest parts of you, and actually liked what he saw.

You didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. It was either accept the job, or have some drug kingpin sic his enforcers on you for your last dollar. 

“What do you need me to do?”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba  @caked-crusader @itsjustmyfantasyroom @thatesqcrush @dianilaws @permanentlydizzy @eclecticreader2020   @mrsrafaelbarba​ @da-po 

[heteroromanticbinsual]

Changbin Falling for You

My First Imagine (be merciful lol)

- Fluff, Romance, Angst, (tried to remain gender neutral)

Setting: During COVID19 Pandemic, Professor and Changbin (not a student teacher relationship tho)

*took note of some constructive criticism and adjusted, so vibe may be just slightly different, in a good way, okkayy  👉👈*

PART 3

Scene: Convenience Store

“Y/N, wait,” Changbin called.

You froze and tilted your head. No one, aside from your work colleagues knew your first name. You turned around and saw a man standing alone while a group of guys were huddled together in the back. You were worried and did not recognize any of them because they were wearing masks. The man standing alone called your name again to be sure, and you immediately recognized his voice. It was Changbin. Shocked that it was actually him, you loosened your grip on your folder and accidently dropped your papers again. After a brief moment, you realized what happened and quickly began picking up your papers.

The boys seeing you struggle, panicked and helped pick up the rest of the papers. They handed back your papers, quickly said their hello and went back to allow you and Changbin some privacy. Changbin, however, did not understand why he needed to be alone with you. He felt that it just made the situation more awkward.

After saying hello, you just stood there glancing  back to Changbin. Still shocked, you reached to cover your mouth. But as you did that, the wind blew a bit hard and your eyes became teary. Changbin, thinking you were crying, started waving his hands. But before he could say anything, you quickly wiped away the tears and patted your cheeks.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you said as you shot back a small smile to not worry him. “An angel just flew from Heaven and wasn’t careful when he landed. So, wind blew into my eyes,” you said while smiling.

Changbin chuckled at your ridiculous joke. Once he composed himself he said, “I hope you got your work ID back.. and uhm.. that you are feeling better now.” He scratched his head and continued, “You can, uhm.. always find us on vlive if you’re feeling down, okay?, ” he continued. In disbelief he remembered you, and spoke to you again, you nodded like an innocent child with big eye and that only made him laugh more. 

“So, uhm.. have a good night and get home safely okkay,” he ended. He started to walk away when you quickly interjected.

“Wait” you said.

He turned around and you continued. “I’m sorry if I am being, uhm.. bold,” you nervously said while looking at your pointed toes, “but I... I.. wanted to ask if I could take.. a uhm.. photo with you?” You looked up and asked, “Is that okayy?”

Of course he accepted your request and walked over. He was getting closer and closer, so you blushed like a fool and gulped. You quickly took out your phone but stumbled once he struck a pose next to you. The photo came out blurry because you were shaking from being so close to him, so he suggested taking another one. He told you not to be nervous and put his arm on you. That didn’t help you calm down at all. You blushed even more and covered your face. 

“Ready, 1, 2...” He said. You got a hold of yourself, smiled and snapped a photo. He grabbed your phone while you were still holding it, softly placing his hand under yours, and your heart started pounding even more. You took a deep gasp of air and tried not to hyperventilate,  while he checked the photo. He nodded and was pleased that the quality was better. He let go, waved goodbye and you bowed, and then bowed again. 

“Thank you so much. Thank you!” You said. Quickly looking at your photo, you looked back at him and yelled, “You’re very handsome,” before you lost your courage.

He chuckled as he walked back to his members and you went your way. You continued looking at the photo and giggled to yourself. You stopped for a moment, held the phone to your chest and hugged it with all your might. Unable to contain your excitement, you started jumping, spinning, skipping, giggling and squealing even more.

Unbeknownst to you, the members saw you being silly and laughed to themselves. They thought you were absolutely adorable and child like. 

“Whoah Hyung” Han said while slowly clapping, “You’re so cool.” He gave a big thumbs up and Changbin blushed. 

“Of course. Visual Changbin has that kind of affect on STAYs” he sarcastically said.

During their walk back to the dorm, all the members kept talking about you.

“They look even more attractive than all their photos,” Hyunjin shared, “They really do.”

“They are really short too, so they match Changbin hyung well,” I.N. remarked. “They make Changbin look so tall,” he continued.

Changbin shot him a piercing look and cutely yelled.

Bangchan, who had been rather quiet throughout this entire adventure, simply smiled at all this chaos and made sure that everyone remained quiet and made it to the dorm safely. 

Scene: SKz Dorm

Once everyone got in, they sorted out all the goodies they bought from the convenience store and Felix went back to preparing his brownies. With not much needed from Felix, everyone went to the big room and decided to watch a film. Han selected something and the other members opened their snacks and started to munch away. Lee Know, who is still quiet, has been taking selfies with silly filters again. Using the SKz Instagram, he checked the tagged photos to find cute posts of him, but happened upon a photo that seemed familiar. It was a photo of you and Changbin, and Lee Know panicked.

“I just saw the picture Changbin and Y/N took on Instagram!” he exclaimed.

Everyone rushed to see the photo, while Changbin just sat there. He wanted to seem calm and not let his curiosity overtake his confidence. But Lee Know, now feeling nosier than before, clicked on your profile and found all your posts. It was a collection of work projects, you and your students, academic events, meetings with important academic scholars, your artwork, and music.

“Changbin hyung, I think they might be too good for you,” I.N. said snarkily.

Changbin shot up and wrestled his way to the phone. He kept trying to reach for the phone but Lee Know was still scrolling. All Changbin could do was whine. They all laughed at how cute he was being and Lee Know eventually gave the phone to him. Changbin looked at the photo of you two and was incredibly pleased at how good you two looked together. He looked very handsome and you looked wonderful. To his surprise, the photo didn’t actually show how attractive you really were in person. 

“That’s weird. They looked way better in person,” he softly said.

He finished analyzing the photo and read the caption. It said “I dared to ask the heavens for a chance. So, they sent me an angel and said ‘catch up to him.’ I’ve caught up and I must say, Heaven was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the angel.”

END OF PART 3

[psychoangiethings]

The Bloodline [Roman Godfrey x Reader]

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who are reading this. I’m not sure I am really back in tracks with this story since my Word pissed me off and didn’t save a lot of pages I wrote a few weeks back. But let’s hope that bitch will listen now. Sorry for typos, obviously even turned off automatic correction doesn’t mean shit to Word. Leave some comments, if you like. I’ll be glad.

Warning: Adult themes & language, murder

Other tags: Magic, friends to lovers, slow build, nightmares, witches, upirs, swearing

Summary: After very suspicious car crash that killed both of her parents, Abigail Wolff moves in with her aunt to Hemlock Grove only to discover a truly interesting family history which her father kept from her. As she awakens her powers, something much older and terrifying is coming after her. Or maybe not after her at all.

Chapter 10

Masterlist

Chapter 11 - You’re an idiot

After one class at school I could tell it would be boring day as fuck. It was shitty morning, followed by even shittier class in which my thoughts were similar to someone who's planning some kind of murder. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he an idiot or something? Obviously he was, because what kind of person asked how was it for me to watch my parents die? Retard. And what did he expect for answer? Yeah, man! It was terrific! You should try it sometime with your parents, you'll be thrilled.

I was sitting by my desk, looking out of window and waiting for my biology class to start. Some places in the classroom were still empty but I didn't pay attention. I was thinking about how one could brutally but efficiently kill Roman fucking Godfrey. My grip around my pencil was deadly and my tapping with the pencil's point against pages of my notebook was loud.

"Tell me how it felt to see your parents die."

"Spoiled. Rich. Little. Fucker." I furiously muttered under my nose.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today?" Peter mocked me and sat down beside me. I didn't even look at him, just tried to calm myself but then I heard the giggle our class dumb bitch let out only when certainsomeone was near. Just to make myself sure I looked around. Yep, there he was. My pencil broke in two.

"Whoah, someone is clearly pissed. What the hell happened?" Peter asked as I bend down to pick what remained of my pencil.

"Nothing. Your retarted friend tried to ask me- No, he did ask me, how it felt to see my parents die. And then he was surprised I didn't answer. What did he expect? Five star review with recommendation?" I wanted to scream at him but I couldn't and knew Peter wasn't in fault here. He didn't do nothing wrong.

"He what?" O-okay, that was so not quiet. Everyone turned their heads in our way and I rolled my eyes.

"Couldn't you be even more louder? I think the principal didn't hear you quite well."

"Idiot, idiot, idiot. He's just an idiot," Peter mumbled to himself as his hand ran through his hair. Then he stood up and made his way to Roman's seat, whispered something to his ear and both of them disappeared. Huh.Weirdos.

×

"It's official. You're an idiot," Peter started even before he could close the door of empty classroom.

Roman rolled his eyes and openedone of many windows to lit up a cigarette. "Why? Because I asked her what basically everyone would ask her if they would know about what happened to her? I don't think so."

"You don's ask people this kind of questions. You ask them how are they, if they slept good or something but not this, Roman. It's like you're from Ice Age. No filter and no empathy." Peter sighed and shook his head.

"It didn't even worked, Peter. If it worked, she wouldn't remember a thing. I was just curious."

"You... You tried your thing on her, right?" Peter was really amazed. Not only Roman was sometimes dumb as shit but he couldn't tell Abigail was a witch and that was the reason his mesmerizing didn't work out.

"Yeah. It never happened before to me. How's possible it didn't work?"

"Maybe because she isn't into you, is stubborn as fuck and isn't trying to get into your pants? Just guessing," Peter offered his opinion and Roman made a face. Again.

"You just made that up, right?"

"Hey, listen, I don't know but maybe it is because she is stubborn. Look at every other girl in this school or town. They want you and they are easily influenced. This one? Right now she hates your guts."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

×

In my last class of the day I said to our teacher I'm not feeling well and if I may go to the Girls. And because of this class was our teacher a man, he just waved it away and let me go. And that's how I, ladies and gentlemen, ended up about an hour earlier in my room. I just went home. And theoretically I didn't lie. I was pissed at Roman and tried to ignore him all day but wasn't sure if he didn't prepare another stunt after school like yesterday. So I went home.

I sat on my bed cross-legged, my notebook in front of me, earphones plugged in and I tried to relax. I think I did deserve it. Just a little bit of time for myself. A moment where I could forget my parents were dead, that I was a witch.

Knock. Knock.

It was loud knocking. Not my aunt Erika's knocking. Maybe Peter? I huffed and went to get the door.

As soon as I opened it, I immediately regretted it and tried to close it. A fancy leather shoe stopped me from that. "I just want to apologize."

"You just did. Now get out."

"Come on, just let me in, hear me out."

"Will you then piss off?" Probably not the answer he wanted but I let him in anyway and sat on my bed again, before he could say a thing. Now there was definitely awful silence between us. I was looking at him, he was looking at me and neither of us said a thing.

"I think you wanted to apologize. Is this some kind of special silent treatment?" To be honest he did look a bit nervous.

"Let's be clear, I don't know how to do this properly, let alone right. I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have asked that question. I was just curious. I've never met another person who lost parents."

"What do you mean by another person?"

"When I was a child I found my father dead. He blew his brain out."

"Okay, I did not see that coming," I said after few awkward minutes of silence but the anger was still inside. "Still, it's no excuse to ask how it felt for me. You just don't go and ask people this. It makes you look like Neanderthal man."

Roman raised his hands up in defense and nodded. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can we start again? I promise I won't tell anyone and if someone will have stupid talks how you are my new sex toy or something I will put end to it. Do we have a deal?" He said, surprisingly calm and serious with outstretched hand.

There was this tingle in the back of my neck when I said, "What worse could happen. Fine. But I will deal with gossipers myself. And I try not to comment your sex life. Deal?" I outstretched my own arm and we shook on it while he accepted those terms.

"You, trying not to comment something? Will we have something to talk about at all?" Roman asked with pretended worry in his voice.Little fucker.

×

Olivia Godfrey was old. Very old, came from old blood, bloody money and combination of these two gave disgustingly powerful lineage which was surviving through centuries with no problems.

Head of Godfrey family was spoiled like a brat and even more manipulative bitch. Let's not forget she was also rich and influential, at least for the rest of her subordinates. Many feared her and only people on high positions were able to talk to her. And still it didn't matter if you were head of some department, she would be still looking at you like driver looks at smashed bug on his windshield. Disgusted and unworthy of her attention. There weren't many things that could actually move something inside her - not people, not their opinions and certainly not their actions.

There also wasn't a lot of things that made her afraid. She was surrounding herself with expensive and beautiful stuff using everything she could to distract and cloak herself from reality. Because reality could be boring and somehow a bit dull for Olivia.

But there, sitting in her workroom, fingers gripping edge of desk so hard it hurt, the reality for Olivia was dreadful. Yes, she was old but not that old to live through stories her father told her about. About powerful creature who made their lineage wealthy and... well, almost immortal. How was the creature deceived and banished back to his world.

And now it was back. She knew it, she could feel it inside of her. Like some connection.

Once servant, always servant. I think I will find use for you, Olivia Luspec.

She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. So there it was. The old, ancient, terrifying evil. Interesting how in one moment you are on top of the game and one second later you're trying just to be alive. Of course there wasn't any visible threat but-

"It's nice to see I still have some effect on others after so many centuries."

[metriorhynchus]

OC Interview.

Thank you so much for the tag @rainofaugustsith. That was awesome. :D Tagging... @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @cyrraluu. No pressure ofc. Sorry if you've already done that. :’D

Meet the most ridiculous commander in the galaxy. Yo!

1. What is your name?

The-Legendary-Amazing-Commander-of-Awesomeness at your service. *laughs* I’m joking, buddy. Leo Naomi is my name. Or just Leo.  2. Do you know why are you named that? I already love this question, pal. Cuz’... well, actually, I gave myself a name. It just sounds good and, more importantly, it's... empty. And it has nothing to do with my family and my past. *smiles* Maybe someday I'll tell you about my real name, but... not now, okay?

3. Are you single or taken? Aw, с’mon, look at me. How can such a girl be single?  4. Have any abilities or powers? Honestly? No! I really don't know why everyone thinks I'm f*ckin’ queen of the boy scouts. Or... commander. I'm just good at my job, nothing more. 5. Stop being a Mary Sue. But it's fun. *laughs* C’mon, don't be so boring, Marty.  6. What’s your eye color? Red.  7. How about your hair color? I'm surprised you've never seen me. I'm blonde, in case you haven't noticed. And yeah, it’s natural. 8. Have any family members?

Lana is the only member of my family. But if you mean my parents... I dunno. As far as I remember, they remained on Coruscant. But I have not had contact with them for eight years.  Ahem...  Can we talk about something else?

9. Oh? How about pets? Pets? You mean Theron? *laughs* He's still buying me drinks after the incident with the Order of Zildrog. But, seriously, I wanted to have a kowakian monkey-lizard on my ship. I'm glad Risha talked me out of it. 10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like? Hmm... I don’t like... when someone steals my spaceships, you know. You'd be amazed how often that happens. 11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Shooting, flying, drinking. Spending time with my girlfriend. Did I mention the shooting ? 12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before? Look around you, buddy. Of course, more than once. 13. Ever… killed anyone before? Um... we're literally at war, you know? Do I really need to comment? 14. What kind of animal are you?

Hmm... Annoying, insufferable and wild, but cute at the same time, I guess? Some kind of... hyenax? 15. Name your worst habits? Silly and inappropriate jokes, I suppose. I mean, that's why I'm not allowed to negotiate. Never. I can't do anything about it, I swear. Lana tried. You know what she said? “All right, this is officially useless.” 16. Do you look up to anyone at all? I... don't think so, to be honest. 17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual? “Hah, gaaayyyy!” *laughs* I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But it's true, yeah. 18. Do you go to school?

Nah, for what purpose? Spending years doing something useless? Life gives you far more useful lessons. My parents didn't care about my education, you know. The gang cared. 19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day? Was that a proposal? *laughs* Damn, I dunno. Maybe I'll get married someday. But kids... no. Definitely not. It would be a tragedy for the galaxy. 20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys? I think I left my autograph on the asses of half of Zakuul. 21. What are you most afraid of? This is... a really difficult question. I'm afraid of losing friends, loved ones. I'm afraid of becoming completely helpless. I'm really afraid of a lot of things. I just can't show it. 22. What do you usually wear? In fact, anything that comes to hand. Shirts, jackets, hoodies, chinos. Something simple and comfortable. And I prefer dark colors. 23. What’s one food that tempts you?

Did I mention I'm great at making fish-ramen? Buddy, this is worth living for.

24. Am I annoying to you? Nope. What makes you think that? 25. Well, it’s still not over! Okay?.. 26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I have no idea. Really. I am the Commander of the Alliance, of course, but... aw come on, look at me. I'm still a street jerk.  27. How many friends do you have? Well, let's count. Lana, Corso, Risha, Dachir... That's all. 28. What are your thoughts on pie?

I don't take food from strangers. *smiles* Seriously, I think I'll pass. 

29. Favorite drink? Pale ale. Or black tea. Depending on my mood. 30. What’s your favorite place? My bed. 31. Are you interested in anyone? I have Lana, you know. Being interested in someone else is... dangerous. 32. That was a stupid question… *laughs* Well, yeah, sort of. 33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean? In the pool.  34. What’s your type?

Do you realize I'm going to be in trouble if you keep asking questions like that? *laughs* I dunno, buddy. I see personalities, not “types”. 35. Any fetishes?

Whoah... slow down. I don't even want to talk about it! 36. Camping or outdoors? I like to spend time outdoors. I can sleep there if I have to. No problem.

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick - chapter 29

Summary: Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party. (Loki x Reader NSFW)

Chapter 29 - Loki sets out to impress and tries a little too hard.

First chapter here (can be read as a oneshot) All chapters to date at AO3 (71K, NC-17)

Tagging my rebloggers, commenters and other folk who asked. Please let me know if you want in (or out) of the list: @joanbushur, @frenchfrostpudding, @lovely-geek, @wolfsmom1, @sigridlaufeyson, @lokislonelylady, @monitoroutside, @daniissuchadani, @devilbat, @deadlydreamersecrets @helenisabel, @stardustandangelsfanfiction, @ely-seum, @wendyrobson1978, @the-ships-i-ship, @shemart101, @dreamourbrainout, @sadghostomg, @lokilover2000, @blobfishington, @lynneth1968-blog, @deaddecade, @nardo94, @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981, @ashesandfire, @imagines-of-the-fandom​, @beingrandomisfun​, @tomsragnarok, @skulliebythesea, @bubbles8231999, @jesuisunthot, @all-of-teh-fandoms, @atreqhukea 

Chapter 29

You’re in this place again. The cottage. His place. And though Loki seems unusually bright and light hearted, you can barely hold back from bombarding him with questions.  

The weather is turning. It’s not a storm coming, but the true onset of winter this time. Looking at the darkening sky, you wonder how long he intends you to hide out here. You ask yourself whether you’d be prepared to live somewhere lost like this, give up everything else, if it meant being with him.

He’s hiding from Thor of course.  And you’re hiding from the rumour mill.

Well, one thing is sure. Out here, sooner or later, he’ll have to explain himself.

The boat is laden with parcels. They mostly contain food, but you get a surprise when what you took for a hamper, well covered by a blanket, turns out to be the casket from the throne room. Its colours are angry and agitated, moving faster than before, perhaps from the shaking they got on the ride.

“Whoah.” you say, taking a steps away from it. It doesn’t seem a reassuring thing to have brought on a trip away. But then this isn’t any regular romantic break, is it?

He shoos you away from it, handing you a box of apples instead, and takes the casket himself, lifting it up carefully, almost reverently, only holding it only though the blanket, without letting to touch his bare hands.

“Does your Dad know you’ve got that?”

“In point of fact. It’s mine.” He says, more to the box than to you.

“The Aether!?” Now, admittedly Odin is probably safer without it, but is Loki any better?  

“No, the casket.”

Whatever the reason is that he brought it, you’re not happy about having it in the cottage.

“But why bring it here?”

“Wait and see.” he teases, like you were an impatient child. This doesn’t reassure you.

Magic artefacts aside, Loki has certainly stocked the kitchen well enough, so much so that that the house looks even smaller.

You spend the waning day quietly. There’s just a single chair by the hearth, this is a place for one person after all, but you fit in it perfectly beside him. You are hardly touching, but it feels like an echoed afterglow of the frenzy of last night. If only it weren’t for what happened this afternoon. There’s a warmth between you but also a tension that hovers like an uninvited guest.You alternately  watch the growing dusk, the dancing flames and his face.

“Why deceive Heimdall?” you venture.

Without any sign of surprise or resistance to your question he looks you in the face and smiles.

“Because he’d only snitch on me to Thor.” he states simply. “As he so finely demonstrated.”

Why deceive Thor though? To ask that question would be to enter troubled waters indeed.

“But couldn’t you just have hidden us?”

“It’s not that simple. When so much of my attention and energy is otherwise engaged…” He gives you a knowing and appreciative look. “It’s far easier to wear a mask than to disappear. A simple illusion is all it takes, then a person’s imagination will do the rest. Even Heimdall’s.”

“So… he saw me and… Odin…” You shudder and pull a face, but Loki doesn’t react and when you look at him he’s got this wistful expression and you start to feel deeply annoyed that he’s missed the point. Ignored your discomfort.

But then he says, “I told father everything about us.”

You catch your breath. Finally.

Your joy bounces in your chest and you want to hug him, but you keep it squeezing his shoulder.

“And what did he say?”

There’s a silence.  Too long a silence. Loki takes a breath.

“Well nothing actually.”  

You feel a shiver of cold, despite the fire, and picture Odin at his worst. Is this why Loki whisked you away?

“He was asleep at the time.”

“Asleep?” You let your hand fall to your side. “Well why tell him if he couldn’t have heard you.”

“On the contrary, mother once told me he hears everything when he is asleep .”

Something is not right. What does Loki mean by ‘asleep’?  Could it be that Odin, overdoing it as you’ve seen is not just asleep but in ‘the sleep’.

“Why are we here even? And why did you bring that…‘thing’?”

“We need give things a chance to calm down.”

That you can see.

“And this,” he nods at the box glowing under its cover. “Well this I’ve got to show you.”

“It’s not going to bring Malekith here is it?”

He seems just as unruffled and amused.

“Not while he only has one arm and is on the run from his own countrymen, which I have on good authority.”

“But the Aether…”

“It makes the casket’s magic stronger.”  

You didn’t know anything about Loki possessing a magic casket before now.

“But what does it do?” The only magic casket you know of is the ancient one from Jotunheim and that’s hardly be Loki’s, but then neither is the Aether.  And with Odin ‘asleep’…

“It can make anything you want.” He says cheerfully.  The glow in the unlit kitchen is more rosy than blue at the moment. Loki reaches to touch the casket and you watch fascinated as he undoes the clasp on the lid. “But mostly it makes ice and snow.”

So it is the Jotunheim casket.

“Look.” He points out the window, away from the artefact in his hands. In front of the house there’s a small decked area, for mending nets and the like, but now you see there’s a terrace.  “Look” he prompts again and before your eyes columns grow at each corner and a roof, the across the beach and shore a there spreads a sheet of smooth shiny ice as flat as a frozen lake. What’s he doing? You go to turn. “Keep looking out there, you don’t want to miss this.” he warns. Arches, cloisters and stairs and doorways to great hallways grow, all apparently out of ice. You’ve never seen anything to dazzling or impressive, its as though Loki just created a whole new palace out of ice and magic.

“Not such a hovel now is it?”

You look over at him.  Loki is turned away, his face in darkness, but you can hear him gently panting, Such magic must take quite an effort. You politely ignore it. And look out at the new buildings that have sprung up. “It’s beautiful.” It’s not just incredibly built, but tastefully designed. You see the expanse of ice that has replaced the beach.  “I wish I had my…”

“By the door.” And there lie your ice skates. “Go on, try it.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

You step outside onto the terrace that wasn’t there before, then onto the transformed beach that lays beyond it like a vast mirror-smooth plaza reaching into the ocean.

Under your skates, its fabulously even. It’s been nearly a year since you skated but you remember instantly. You set off, alone on the ice like you’ve never been.  The ice is new and there’s no one to run into. You can go as fast as you like, turning curves and figures you never thought yourself capable of. You wonder if it's an illusion that he’s spun, purely in your head, because it’s incredible. You decide you don’t care.

The sea seems miles away, barely audible. Surrounding you is the crisp cold air of a winter’s day. When is he coming you wonder. The palace has grown so huge now that it dwarfs the island, the little house must be there somewhere among the ice buildings.  

And there he is, coming for you out of the night.  He’s already built up quite as when he catches up to you and sweeps you up and into the movement. You speed into the growing night together, dark before you, the moon above and the light of a fantastic city behind you.

You’re laughing, nearly screaming, from the exhilaration, the cold air drawing tears from your eyes and drying them just as fast.

He leads but you turn together, as though you had always been partners and knew where to go, when to move. You are so close that a single false move would send you into a high speed tumble, skates and all, but you have no fear. You are perfect together and you feel how simple it makes things to trust him.

You don’t want to break the spell with a single word. If he can do this, he can do anything. But finally, you circle to a halt and he lifts your hands together in his.  He kisses them warm, making you realise how cold they were, you hadn’t given it a thought.

His embrace is firm and his kisses are hot and welcome, but you’ve got to get moving again before you get too cold. As you make your way back, the house is a little warm light in the nestled among the cool graceful architecture of spires and arches, all sculpted from the frozen waves.  

At the foot of the great castle, you shed your skates.  He steps towards a grandiose doorway framed by a pair shining columns in the form of snakes. Then he looks over his shoulder a moment, gives you another look you know and he starts to run. You follow him into the palace, first great reception rooms, then though passageways and up stairways to balconies sparking in starlight. He is  showing off and you let him. This he can have when the rest of his life is in hiding. And you allow yourself to dream a little of a time when that will no longer be so.

You stare in wonder at a vaulted roof high above your head. An ice palace, like in the stories of Jotenheim. Did he have all of this stored up in his head waiting? Then you see Loki’s already at the very end of the hall and disappearing up a narrow spiral stairway. After him you go, racing up and bursting out on a roof garden.  It’s devoid of any plant life but breathtaking. Like everything here, it’s timelessly beautiful, though completely hard and cold. The ice isn’t like the stuff you know from winter. Underneath, it glistens blue or pink.

The roof, like most of the floors are powdered with snow, so you can keep up without slipping, and see Loki’s prints before you. They lead to a small suite of rooms at roof level, like private apartments, but with little in the way of furnishings. But Loki has gone from there already. Running down an outdoor stairway you think you see real snow coming in the air now and feel the wind rising, and then your slip though an archway into a darker chamber, less exposed but just as cold.

What will you do when you catch him? You would surely welcome one another’s heat, but there is nowhere here that is comfortable. You’ll get him back to the cottage, once you’ve got your hands on him.

Though you follow through a multitude of rooms, you notice you are no longer chasing but searching, the building seems to have a thousand rooms and staircases, avenues and hallways and all show his footprints, or yours.  It’s magnificent but somewhat eerie when you’re alone in it, this palace all cold and sparking under the moon.

He must be playing a game with you.  Hiding like this.  But really, it’s creepy, everywhere you meet ice mirrors or rooms with floors you can see through to the storeys below.

Perhaps he’s gone back to the cottage.

“Loki !” The name echos around you off the high ice walls, coming at you as though a handful of other women were wandering somewhere in these walls looking for him.

If only you could get back to the cottage under.  Though it must be close now, in the  complex of rooms leading one from the next, you can’t seem to get to it. Are you lost? You decide just to keep moving toward the exterior.  If you keep moving out and down you’ll be okay. Loki needs to understand that there’s a point when things cease to be funny. It’s as though the palace had continued to grow while were on your way downstairs. The stairway just leads to another passageway through the dark heart of this place.  You brush aside the feeling of panic and head for the glow of moonlight.

Finally you come out into a courtyard in a light flurry of snow. Real white snow falling from the sky. From the courtyard you are relieved to see the cottage again and although no light comes from its windows now but a cold purple glow, you head for it.

The interior silent and you sigh with relief at the warmth.  There’s nothing left of the fire and the only light is from the casket. And there’s Loki, finally, standing over it, a dark form against the glow.

“There you are!”  you cry.  But he doesn’t move or reply,

He’s bent slightly, a hand on the nearby wall where he must be channeling the energy.

“Loki?”

The figure turns. And though you can’t see much against the light you see straight away that it’s not Loki.

The scream is out of you before you even think it. The horror that fills you is worsened by the fact that you thought it was Loki. It’s not, it’s a monster.

 For Loki has summoned not just the ice powers of Jotenheim, but one of its creatures. Red eyes glow through the dark as you back away, screaming louder than you ever thought you were capable.

You yell at the monster to get back and run from the cottage. Outside in the snow you scream for Loki again. What has he done. Out here in the middle of nowhere. Then you hear the clumping step of the monster coming for you and you start to run.

TBC

[mindfulwrath]

Onward

A BuzzFeed Unsolved Fanfic

A spirit can only move on when it has completed its unfinished business.

Or, it can't, because ghosts aren't real.

Words: 4,922 Warnings: Blood & gore, major character death Additional tags: Angst with a happy ending, character turned into a ghost, platonic Shane & Ryan

AO3 Link

"It's really kinda nice up here, don't you think?" Shane says, looking out over the vast moorlands. Moonlight glimmers off of brackish water, casts soft shadows across lumps of heather and gorse.

"You're insane," Ryan spits.

"What? You don't think it's nice? Just look at this view! It's lovely."

"It's creepy as fuck, aaaaaaand you're crazy."

"Okay, well have fun looking for ghosts while I'm enjoying the beautiful Scottish countryside."

"Yeah, thanks, I will," Ryan says under his breath, shaking his head. He raises his voice and speaks for the cameras. "Okay, so, here we are up on the battlements of Crathes Castle, uh, Shane is admiring the scenery, but we are hopefully gonna see something much more interesting. Now, the curator told us there'd been some restoration ongoing up here, so uh, watch your step, 'cuz . . . oh boy."

"We are pretty high up," says Shane, sticking his neck out to look over the parapet. Far below, there's a pale square of concrete, some outbuilding being redone after falling over. It's about the size of a postage stamp from this perspective.

"And when Shane's saying that, you know it's high."

"Hah-hah, the height jokes! Fruit so low-hanging, even you can reach it."

"Yep, sure, that's about what I expected from you. Anyway, let's see if we can find some ghosts."

"You do that, I'm just gonna hang out here and watch."

"Yeah, good, stay out of my way," says Ryan.

Shane spares a glance over his shoulder at the camera. He shakes his head. As Ryan starts up his customary shouting-at-nothing, Shane puts his elbows up on the parapet and leans back, settling in for the show.

Stone grinds on crumbling masonry. Ryan yelps. Shane flails at empty air.

"Whoah, fuck—"

There's no scream. There's a horrible, plunging sickness, and an instant of perfect clarity.

The second-to-last thing that goes through Shane's head is, Wouldn't it be ironic if—

The last thing is a four-foot piece of rebar.

It isn't surprising that the universe has a cruel sense of humor. That's been made evident since the dawn of time, in things like rosy-lipped batfish and mass-extinctions and the invention of capitalism. The Homers and Ovids of the world, the Shakespeares and Edgar Allen Poes, they might actually have gotten things kind of almost right—at least in that whoever's running things, they're 1. a poet, and 2. a bastard.

It is somewhat surprising to look down at his own dead body.

"Son of a bitch," he says.

His body settles, dripping blood. There's a lot of blood, and a lot of him is broken—shattered, really. A noise draws his attention upward, a shout and clamor. Shane can't make out what it is. The sound is distorted, and now that he's paying attention, everything else is, too. It's like a dreamscape, like someone took dozens of photographs over decades of time, printed them on transparencies and overlaid them. If he concentrates, he can pick out individual images and bring them to the forefront.

Something moves in the doorway. Shane can't quite focus on it. He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. He's not sure, but he thinks he can hear screaming, and it stirs something in him and he doesn't like it. Fortunately, it goes away pretty quickly, and silence falls again.

"Well?" he calls out. "What now?"

The world does not answer.

"Do I have to stay here, or can I, like, go? Can I just go? 'Cuz uh, gotta tell you, I'm not really into the whole ghost-thing!"

Still, nothing. The distant sound of sirens drifts on the breeze. He looks down at his body and folds his arms.

"Oh, shit, I could go to my own funeral," he realizes. "Boy, that'd be a trip, huh?"

All's quiet on the moors, save for the approaching sirens. Shane glances over his shoulder. Out of curiosity, he wanders back to the camera crew. The bright lights leave the world in a haze, illuminating a sea of phantasmal cars, buses, carriages, horses, people. It's hard to focus on the ones that are here now, so much so that it gives Shane a killer headache.

Or maybe that's just the lingering memory of the rebar going through his skull. Could be either.

He finds Ryan huddled up in the back of the equipment van, a blanket around his shoulders and about six people clustered around him. He's shaking like crazy, his eyes wide and wild, and he's . . . he's. . . .

Sobbing.

He's explaining, to the crew, what happened. The words are a jumbled mess. Tears stream down his face. They're trying to comfort him, but they all look just as shell-shocked and sickened and scared. Somebody calls Ryan's girlfriend for him. Somebody else is on the phone with corporate, and someone's still talking to the emergency dispatcher, and Ryan—and Ryan is crying so hard he can't breathe. . . .

Shane backs away, slowly. He goes back to the shattered wreck of his own body, sits down on a chunk of stone that might have been dragged off two hundred years ago. It's less disturbing than the scene back at the van.

"Man, I look like a really fucked-up unicorn," he remarks. "I got brains comin' out the back of my head! That's no good!"

Nobody answers. Blue and red flashing lights crest the hill. Shane sighs and hangs his head.

"And here's me, talking to air again," he mutters. "Okay. So uh—here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna leave. I'm gonna go do . . . other stuff. And not watch them take my body outta here, 'cuz that's gonna be gross. Eugh."

And he's not going to attend his own funeral, either, he decides, as he wanders down the hill away from the castle. He'd kind of assumed everybody else would be as cool with him dying as he was, that it would be no big deal, that it would be sad, but overall just another Thing That Happens. He doesn't want to see Ryan cry again. He doesn't want to see any of his other coworkers cry, either, his friends, or—God forbid—his parents. He doesn't want to be mourned.

It occurs to him about an hour later, as he's slogging through a thousand years of Scottish fen.

He is in an absolutely unique position to find out exactly where, and how many times, Ryan was wrong.

It's hard to gauge the passage of time, but it's probably been a few years, and Shane has learned something very important about ghosts: they don't happen where—or to whom—popular opinion had it.

The big places, the asylums and castles and manors, they're quiet, they're empty. Taverns can be a little bit more populous, although they really aren't any fun.  Nobody's having a good time in this part of the afterlife, and most people are alone. He almost never sees anyone with a friend, and never a group of more than three. He's really hoping he never runs into anybody he knows, for . . . lots of reasons.

It's the mundane places that are really teeming, the streetcorners and back-alleys, the factories, the wilderness. And it's not the big people, either—not the mobsters and judges and doctors, but the urchins, the servants, the prostitutes, forgotten in life and forgotten in death. He made it back to America eventually, and the horrors that soaked the earth there made him sick. Not a square inch of all that once-beautiful land was free of blood. In places, it's like the earth itself has died. In places, he can see its ghosts, too.

One place he finds Ryan was right about is Salem.

There's an old house, well-kept, slightly more there than most other structures he finds, although he's sure he never saw it when he was alive. He climbs the steps. An old Black woman sits by the fire.

"Are you Tituba?" he asks. It's a stupid thing to say, but he hasn't said much in a long time. Most of the other ghosts don't like talking to him. For a minute, he thinks Tituba won't, either.

"I remember you," she says. "You were very rude."

"I guess I was," says Shane. "Uh . . . sorry."

She rocks her chair. The fire crackles, although it makes no warmth.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"If you want to know the answer."

"Why are you still here? Why haven't you gone . . . wherever dead people go?"

"I'm waiting," she says.

"For what?"

A shrug is all he gets.

"Well . . . good luck, I guess," he says. "I hope it comes to you, whatever it is."

He asks around a little more after that, although people who will talk to him are few and far between. Why are some of us here? It's obviously not everyone. Why are you here?

And he gets the same answer.

I'm waiting.

Time has passed. Shane's more well-traveled than he's ever been, but there's still a strange restlessness in him. Something, he feels, needs to be done, but he'll be damned if he knows what it is. It gets so bad that at one point he risks going to visit his own grave.

It's nice. The tombstone is nice. There's no epitaph, which is about what he wanted. Somebody's left flowers, although they're plastic.

"Kitchy," he says to no one. "Get that shit outta here."

"Plastic?"

Shane starts. There's another man, very old, loitering at a nearby grave. It's the first time someone's struck up a conversation with him, instead of the other way around.

"Uh . . . yeah," he says. The old man shakes his head.

"Kind gesture, but it does feel cheap, doesn't it."

"I guess."

"I always told them not to put plastic flowers on my grave, but some damn fool's done it anyway."

"Sucks. I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "No point in getting upset about it now. Say, do you know when the chariots or what-have-you come down?"

"I don't," Shane admits. "I've never seen 'em."

"Ah, what a shame. I'll wait, then. It's not like I have anything else to do."

"Right?" he says, chuckling, shaking his head.

Between one moment and the next, the old man disappears, like smoke, like fog. There's not even a shadow of him left, not in all the layers of history painted across the world.

Even without a choir of angels, or a blast of Hellfire, it's pretty obvious what just happened. Maybe neither of those things exist to happen, and the vanishing is all there is, after this.

Shane looks down at the flowers on his grave. He takes a deep breath.

"Okay," he says. "All right. I get it."

It's going to take a while to get to L.A., but he's got time.

Ryan's actually kind of doing okay. That's a pretty firm marker on how long Shane's been gone. Incredibly, he's still doing Unsolved, even the paranormal stuff. He's got a new guy working with him, too, although they're a little stilted and they have difficulty making each other laugh, even for the cameras. They seem like they're getting along okay, though. Ryan's definitely chilled out a lot since the last time Shane saw him. He's rusty on the ghost hunting.

It takes a while, takes a lot of following and waiting, but eventually Shane gets the chance to tag along on a trip.

"Man, this brings back some memories, huh," he says, meandering along behind Ryan as he creeps through some abandoned, burnt-out warehouse. "Look at you, though! You grew a big ol' spine since the last time I saw you."

Ryan doesn't respond, because of course he doesn't. He's looked right through Shane a dozen times already. Shane's not too bothered by it. Nobody's seen him in years.

The hunt goes like it always goes. Eventually Ryan and the new guy split up. The new guy goes first.

"This is so dumb," he mutters to the camera, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Right?" says Shane. He shakes his head. "Hey, take a little nap, buddy. It's nice! Nice little break from all the craziness."

The guy waits out his five minutes. Shane hangs out. Ryan comes in, trades some banter with the new guy, and is left alone.

Something about the way he moves makes Shane's mind come into sharper focus. The layered blur of the world grows clear in the darkness when Ryan turns out his flashlight.

"Oh, man," he whispers. "Okay. I'm getting chills already. Shit. Shi-hi-hit. No, I'm okay, I'm okay. I'm a big boy. I got my big boy pants on."

"Calm down, big boy, nobody's gonna hurt you," says Shane, rolling his eyes.

But something in him hurts. Something aches. He hasn't felt a damn thing in years, but suddenly, now, it's almost like being alive again. It's almost like he wants something again.

"All right," Ryan says, raising his voice. "So, uh, if there's anybody here with me, uh, my name is Ryan Bergara, I'm a—a paranormal investigator."

"Oh, huh, are you? Is that what you're calling it these days?" says Shane, folding his arms.

"Um . . . if there's anyone here, can you make a noise?"

"No, Ryan, I can't make a noise, because I'm a ghost, and I can't interact with the material world, ya big dummy. I'm made of ectoplasm, or—electromagnetism, or something, I don't actually know. But it doesn't touch stuff! Sometimes if I concentrate real hard, I can walk through walls!"

Ryan just stands and listens. His head swivels back and forth like a radar dish. His eyes are wide and bright. He swallows. He waits, and waits, and waits.

"Okay," he says to himself. "Okay, okay, that's fine, that's okay. Uh—okay, so if there's anybody here, uh, I'm gonna get out this little, uh, this little device. It's called a spirit-box."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Shane sighs, except that the heart he doesn't have anymore is suddenly up in his throat. "It's not gonna tell you anything. It's baloney."

Ryan takes it out and sets it down gingerly on the table, his breaths coming quick and panicky. "And, if you wanna talk to me, you can use this, okay?"

"What—how?" Shane cries. "How am I supposed to do anything with that hokey box?"

"So I'm gonna . . . turn this on, and you should be able to talk to me, through it. Okay, here we go."

The box squeals, then launches into its randomized chirping. Ryan gulps, his eyes flicking around the room. Shane kicks at the table the box sits on. His foot hits something, but Ryan doesn't react, so it probably wasn't the table-as-it-is he kicked, but the shadow of some past version from ten or twenty years ago.

"Okay, so . . . if there's anybody here with me, my name's Ryan. Can you say my name back to me?"

"Of course I can't, the stupid box doesn't do anything."

Ryan stands in silence, listening, listening. A squawk of static comes out of the box.

"What was that?" he says. "Can you say that again?"

"I said your stupid box doesn't do anything."

Choppy white noise, blips of music and talk shows and nothing.

"If there's somebody here with me, can you make a noise?" Ryan asks.

"No! I can't! Because I'm a ghost, you idiot!"

Ost oop it, goes the box. Ryan stiffens.

"What was that? Did you say something?"

"I did, but I didn't say it through your stupid box, which is fuckin' useless!"

Useless.

Ryan pales. His eyes go wide. His breath comes short. "Ohhhh man, okay. Okay. I'm freakin' out a little now. You—Eustice? Is that—is that your name? Eustice?"

Shane's too blind-sided to call him an idiot again. He seizes the spirit box and shakes it. It's like trying to shift a boulder. His voice cracks as he shouts.

"No! No, it's Shane, it's Shane Madej, tell him, tell him it's me!"

Eh ih-ih ee.

"I don't know what that was, I—I'm sorry. Could you repeat that, Eustice?"

"Shane! It's Shane! Ryan, come on, man!"

Chk chk chk chk shh sht cht chk.

"Okay, fuck this, I'm done," says Ryan, reaching for the box. "That's all, bye Eustice, we're done!"

In absolute, idiotic desperation, Shane screams, "Spaghetti!"

Spa-ghet-ti.

Ryan freezes.

"What did you just say?" he whispers.

"Spaghetti! Apple tater!"

Ap-ah t-t-r.

He's shaking so hard his hand blurs over the spirit-box. His breath mists in front of his face. There are tears in his eyes.

"Did you just say . . . apple tater?"

"Yes! I did, yes! Ryan, it's me! Come on, you stupid box, tell him it's me!"

Stih-up-p-p box.

All the blood drains from Ryan's face. He stops breathing. When he blinks, the tears slip out. When he speaks, it barely makes a sound, but Shane feels it, feels it like a punch to the chest, like a struck bell.

Shane?

The only thing he can do is shout, whoop at the top of his lungs and jump in the air. The spirit-box lets out an ungodly wail, and in an instant, Ryan slaps it off the table, screaming.

It smashes on the floor. The room goes silent.

"No," Ryan says, choked up. "Nope, no no no, fuck this, fuck it, I'm out, I'm done! Fuck everything about this!"

He beelines for the door, his knees wobbling. He's just a hair shy of a full-on sprint.

"Where are you going?" Shane demands, hurrying after him. "Hey, no, don't leave! You—you fraidy cat! Ryan! Ryan!"

But he's out of there, back to the noise and bright lights of the camera crew, where the world becomes less real, where Shane's head gets fuzzy and his focus scatters. He retreats back to the shadows, a sudden exhaustion overtaking him.

"Okay," he says to himself. "It's okay. First try's always gonna be . . . messy. And Ryan's an idiot, so—yeah. So yeah. Just gotta keep—keep on keepin' on, Shane. Chin up, buddy. We'll get there."

So of course, because the universe is a poet and a bastard, Ryan does the one thing Shane could never have predicted.

He gives up ghost-hunting.

Quits his job at BuzzFeed, in fact, and moves up north to the Klamaths, and lands a nice little job teaching film and creative writing at a community college. His girlfriend—now wife, apparently—doesn't comment on the fact that they have a night-light in the bedroom. They've probably already talked about it. Shane doesn't like it, the smug little bluebird shitfish, but he leaves it be. Some things are sacred, inviolable.

Anyway, he's got time.

Ryan's daughter first sees him when she turns three.

"Daddy Daddy!" she cries, barreling into his room at ass o'clock in the morning. "Daddy, there's a tall man in my room!"

"What?" he mumbles.

"A tall man, I saw him!"

Ryan comes to check. He turns the lights on. He looks right through Shane a dozen times as he searches the closet and under the bed and behind the lamp and everywhere.

"There's nobody here, sweetie," he says. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," she says.

He kisses her head and clicks the light back out. Shane follows him through the door, because—well, it's kind of weird, hanging out in a three-year-old's room. He was just a little spellbound at first, because it was Ryan's kid, and that's a bizarre thought even when he's looking right at it. But staying would be weird, so he doesn't stay.

But he does come back.

It's not like he's haunting Ryan, no, that's not what it's about. He mostly keeps to himself and doesn't bother anyone, but the kid is weirdly good at spotting him, and there's something about being seen that makes him feel . . . good? Important? Less dead and miserable and alone?

Daddy Daddy, the tall man came back. Daddy Daddy, I saw him by my closet. Daddy Daddy, he came to my tea party. Daddy Daddy, he moved my book!

Which, yes, he did, as ludicrous as it was. For lack of anything better to do with his time. If he focuses as hard as he can and pushes with all his might, sometimes, just a little bit, he can move things. Like a child's book, or a doll's hand, or maybe a door if the hinges are well-oiled. He tries not to do it when anybody's home, but he can't always tell. The kid's too good at seeing him, too, but at least she isn't scared. He tries to make sure she knows he's not there to hurt anybody, and although he's pretty sure she can't hear him, she seems to have gotten the message.

Ryan, maybe, didn't.

He gets more jittery. Lights stay on. There's a marked increase in the amount of religious iconography and (likely) holy water. He spends a lot of time on the computer, drinks a lot of coffee, falls behind on his teaching stuff.

One night, the wife and kid go out, and Ryan stays in. This is weird. Shane sticks around.

Ryan goes up to the kid's room, and he settles into the reading chair by her bed, and he turns out all the lights. The blue glow of his phone illuminates his face. He sits still for a long time, just breathing.

"Shane," he says. His voice shakes. "If you're here right now, could you give me a sign?"

The old desperation seizes him. He slaps the window blinds as hard as he can. They manage a faint, whispering sway. Ryan stiffens, takes a deep breath, lets it out again.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I—I made this for you. I thought maybe it would help, if you're . . . if you're struggling to move on. I hope it helps you, or . . . something. So here it goes."

Another deep breath. Shane waits, pulled taut with anticipation. Ryan adjusts his glasses and looks down at the phone, and he starts to read.

The alien planet of Tomat-0. A rustbucket of an old spaceship sits on a landing pad, engines primed, ready to launch. A pair of plupples, which are alien fruits that are like plums, but cooler, and blue, carry a charismatic box of fries from the future and a sturdy can of good soup up the loading ramp.

"Plup, plup!" says one of the plupples.

"Plup, plup," the other agrees. Plupples are very stupid. However, unfortunately for our heroes, they are not so stupid that they cannot carry out orders from their dark master.

Shane can't believe his ears. He wanders across the room. Even if he had lungs, he wouldn't be able to breathe. He sits down on the bed near Ryan, pulls up his knees and wraps his arms around them. Ryan reads on.

"Wait just one plupping minute, there!" A voice rings out! The plupples halt. There, coming over the horizon of Tomat-0, a witch-hologram of corn riding upon a giant plupple comes charging to the rescue.

"Plup, plup!"

"Plup, plup, plup!"

The hologram corn, Maizey, arrives. "You put those critically-acclaimed and universally-beloved characters down, you Ewok ripoffs!"

"PLUP," the giant plupple plups in agreement.

"Whoah, hey, uh, whoah!" Garce, one of two intelligent plupples, emerges from the ship. "Hey, uh, wow, corn girl, how did you, uh, escape your deadly trial by combat, which you were sentenced to by the great Dr. Goondis, played by Ryan Steven Bergara?"

"I fought the beast and I won, as you can see, because I am riding it into battle with you little blue freaks. Also I ate Dr. Goondis, because we didn't have the time to cut up more VO files for him, so now he's dead."

"That makes perfect narrative sense, uh, but how did you find us?"

A flash of light, a creaky, cackling voice.

"Pam, Pam, kazam, it was me!" A tiny hotdog, about forty percent bigger than Jiminy Cricket, appears in a flash of witch-light on Maizey's corn shoulder. "I'm doing my part to atone for the evil I did before I died, even though it was totally sick and awesome!"

"That's understandable. But uh, what are you both going to do now?"

Maizey draws herself up tall, tall and proud atop the giant plupple. "We're going to take our friends back from you blue goons. We're going to travel back in time and save my witch-hologram wife, stop Pam from killing the hotdog family, the unbelievably rich and compelling characters of Dan, Rebecca, and Brandon, and creating the Gauntlet of Ultimate Power, or G.U.P.—"

"Gup! Gup! Gup!" plup the plupples.

Shane laughs. He puts a hand over his mouth, like Ryan's going to hear him or something, come over bashful and stop reading. Ryan doesn't hear him, though. He keeps going.

And that, dear listeners, esteemed fans of the Hotdaga, that is what they do. Together, Maizey and Pam, along with the un-drugged Gene and Mike Soup, they rout the plupples. They fix the Minestrone, that marvelous spacecraft, and equip it with the Bernoulli Converter to reach the wormhole in the Graxilon quadrant. Dear fans, they travel back in time, and stop the evil Pam from dumping that delicious party of wedding guests into the lava. By having Pam from the future eat herself. It's totally wicked awesome.

Maizey reunites with her witch-hologram french-fry wife, Gebra. Gene gets the Risky Fixin's band back together, for one last smash hit before the happily ever after you've all been waiting for. And here, my dear friends, here it is.

Music plays. It's stupid. It's the stupidest thing Shane has ever heard, and the production value is shit, and Ryan can't sing worth a damn, either.

For the next two minutes and eighteen seconds, he cries like a baby.

"And that's . . . it," says Ryan. He's crying too. "That's the thrilling conclusion to the Hot Dog Saga, or Hotdaga. It's . . . solved. I hope you—I hope you liked it."

"You nailed it, man," Shane says, choked up. "You got it. You nailed it. Shit, Ryan. Thank you."

Ryan sniffles. He wipes his face. He puts his phone down and sits in the dark.

"I don't wanna sound rude or anything, Shane, but . . . now could you please, please leave my family alone? Like, I miss you, but I just—I can't. I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, man. I'm so fuckin' sorry for what happened."

"What? No, no no no, what are you talking about? Ryan, it wasn't your fault, Jesus!"

Ryan scrubs at his face, puts his head in his hands.

"Just please . . . please let me—just let me move on, too. I can't do this anymore."

"I—yeah," says Shane, shaken right down to his core, in so much pain he can barely hold himself together. "Yeah. Of course. I'm sorry. I didn't even think about . . . yeah. I'll go. I'll go."

He almost puts a hand on Ryan's shoulder, then thinks better of it. He walks out the door.

He doesn't look back.

About four months before Ryan's eightieth birthday, the Universe catches up with him.

Shane isn't sure how he knows, but he knows. He makes his way back to Crescent City, finds the hospital, the bed. It's bad. It's been bad for a long time.

It's not going to get better.

His daughter is with him that night, when the lights are dim and Shane doesn't have to fight so hard to stay present. She's middle-aged now. It's weird how fast five decades can slip by, when you spend them wandering around doing nothing.

Well, nothing except waiting.

"Sweetie, do you remember the Tall Man?" Ryan asks.

"My imaginary friend?" she asks. "Kinda. Why?"

"I think . . . I see him," says Ryan. "The Tall Man was always nice, wasn't he? He was always nice to you?"

"He was, Daddy. You were the only one who was worried about him."

"Good. Good. Because if he ever wasn't, I'm gonna . . . I'll kick his ass."

She laughs. Shane laughs.

They're stupid last words, but it's okay. He dies in his sleep about three hours later, when his daughter is sleeping, too.

Ryan takes a moment. He looks down at his body. He isn't terribly concerned.

"Huh," he says.

"'Bout sums it up, doesn't it."

Ryan turns, and he sees Shane. Shane waves.

"Hey," he says. "So uh . . . turns out you were right."

You were right.

It rings down through fifty years, reverberating, a struck bell, a punch in the chest.

You were right.

The corner of Ryan's old ghost mouth turns up, and then he smiles a big, wrinkly, toothy smile, and Shane knows, in that moment, that this is what he was waiting for.

"Damn right I was," says Ryan.

"So you uh . . . you got anything you wanna do, before . . . whatever's next?" Shane asks.

"Mm, maybe a couple things. Like, y'know, see all the haunted stuff, if it's actually haunted."

"Yeah, that's cool, that's cool. Pretty much what I did. You uh . . . you mind if I tag along?"

"Mind? No. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"The Ghoul Boys ride again," says Shane, smiling, even as he feels something begin to dissolve within him.

"Hell yeah," says Ryan.

He sticks out a hand, old and weathered. Shane shakes it. Ryan pulls him in and hugs him, so tight it threatens to pop him like a bubble.

"I'm sorry, Shane," he whispers. "I'm sorry."

Shane hugs him back.

"It wasn't your fault," he says. "It's okay."

From one moment to the next, with no choir of angels and no Hellfire—

In a flash of white—

They go onward.

[avengersnthings]

Assistant: Part One (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: no problem, I understand that! so, maybe can you write about a Steve x reader, when the reader is his personal assistant? idk I really want to read about this hahah, so if this is not a problem I'll be very happy ❤️ and thank you for your answer, you're so sweet! Xx

and 

Anything with steve rogers x reader, no OC please 😂 make the reader male, female, the daughter/son, whatever 😂

Requested By: @barneshuh , Anonymous

Word Count: 1,610

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

A/N: Hello, lovelies! Yes, it is I! I am back from the dead and have actually wrote something! Sorry I haven’t posted in forever. I have been so busy with everything and just have had no motivation to write whatsoever. But, I finally had an idea and then this happened! I like it and I hope you do too! I set this request up where if you guys want a part two, it could totally happen ;). Well, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you want a part two! As always, if you wanted to be added to the tag list just let me know.

Tag List: @mp938368 @generalantiope @thatgirlsar @jumperswellies   @quicksoldier @kitkatgaming @marvelfandom-stuff @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @agentraven007 @marvelgoateecollection @thaniya82 @thats-so-rhyan @hymnofthevalkyrie @themanwiththemetalarm @mslaufeyson 

MASTERLIST

“No, Gary, I need those files by two,” You said quickly into your phone that was nestled between your ear and shoulder as you tried to balance the stacks of papers in your arms.

“Are you sure, (Y/N)? I can’t just give them to you by four?” 

“No, Gary, you can’t,” You snapped as you rounded the corner. “Do you know why, Gary?” You asked as the sound of your heels clicked against the smooth marble floor. You didn’t even allow him enough time to even ponder your question. “I need them by two because Captain America-” A small gasp came from the other line of the phone as you said that. “Yeah. He needs those files so he can begin to plan the next mission. Now, do you want to be the guy that ruins the next Avengers’ mission because you were too damn lazy to just print out some lousy files and get them to me on time. Get them to me by two, got it?”

Before he could reply, you hung up on him. Shifting the load of papers to one arm, you knocked on the glass door. Waiting patiently behind the door, you watched as Mr. Rogers’ (the Captain America) eyes snap up to you. Mr. Rogers quickly pushed back his chair and came to your rescue by opening up the door.

“Geez, (Y/N). They couldn’t have sent an intern to help you carry all of this?” He asked as he went to take the load from you, but you brushed him off as you set the large pile on his desk with a resounding thud.

“What’s the point? I could handle it,” You breathed out as you fixed your pencil skirt. “I mean, c’mon. Captain America’s personal assistant should be able to handle herself.”

Rolling his eyes at your comment, Mr. Rogers sat down in his chair as you lent against his desk. “(Y/N), you can ask for help y’know. Or you could’ve called me. I could have helped.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I can handle myself, Mr. Rogers.”

Running a hand down his tired face, Mr. Rogers gave you a tired look. “How many have I told you to call me Steve?”

“About a thousand,” You grinned as you handed Mr. Ro- Steve- a stack of papers. “These just came in, and they need your signature. I could have just forged them for you to make your life easier, y’know.” You teased, earning a disapproving glance from Steve. 

“While I would have liked to have less work, it’s-”

“It’s not right,” You mimicked Steve, dropping your voice down an octave as you puffed out your chest and fell into line just like a soldier. “Permission to leave, sir?” You said as you stared straight ahead, once again just like a good soldier.

“Permission granted,” Steve laughed out as he too stood up. With a quick salute to the man in charge, you marched out of his office to go find Gary to get your damn papers. 

As you marched out of Steve’s office, he couldn’t help but shake his head as he laughed quietly to himself. As he looked up, he couldn’t help but admire your retreating form as you stopped to talk to someone. Man, she looked beautiful today, Steve thought to himself before snapping out of his thoughts. No, Steve told himself. She’s your personal assistant. Your friend. You can’t think of her that way.

“Knock-knock,” Sam barged into his office, further snapping Steve out of his thoughts of you and your little pencil skirt today. Narrowing his eyes at the super soldier, Sam followed Steve’s gaze to find it fixed on you. A smug grin forming on his face, Sam nudged Steve with his shoulder. “I take it (Y/N) just stopped in again?”

“Wha- Oh, yeah,” Steve cleared his throat. “She just dropped off some paperwork for me.”

“Man, you are so lucky to have a personal assistant so hot,” Sam grinned as he picked up a piece of paper from the mountain on Steve’s desk. Quickly glancing over the words on it, Sam tossed it over his shoulder uninterested. 

“Really, man?” Steve grumbled as he bent over to pick up the discarded paper. “And don’t talk about (Y/N) that way.”

“Why? You were thinking it,” Sam teased as he sat in the chair across from Steve. This earned a scowl from Steve which only made Sam’s grin widen. “And it’s totally true. My assistant is a guy from Cleveland who tells terrible jokes and wears the same shirt three days in a row. And you get her. It’s so unfair.”

“What can I tell ya?” Steve said absentmindedly as he read over the pile you gave him. “Life’s a bitch.”

“Whoah, you kiss (Y/N) with that mouth?” Sam teased, quickly ducking as some random object was thrown at his head. “Geez. Touchy.” The room grew quiet after that as Steve focused on his paperwork and as Sam sat across from him. “I bet you want to kiss her though, right?”

“GET OUT!” Steve shouted as Sam ran out of the room, laughing like a maniac. 

Quickly ducking his head back into the office, Sam looked at Steve. “Y’know, we do have that party at the end of the week that Tony is throwing for everyone. You should take her as your date.” 

Before Steve could answer, Sam ran out in fear of getting another thing thrown at his head. But Steve didn’t throw anything. He just sat there, thinking about what Sam had said. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

As the week further progressed, Steve kept thinking about what Sam said about him taking you to the party. Every time that Steve had made up his mind on whether or not he was going to ask you, you walked into the room. When he decided that there was no way that you would say yes and that he wouldn’t ask you, you walked into the room with that beautiful smile on your face and Steve would want to blurt out the question right then and there. When he decided that he was going to ask you, he would get so nervous that he wouldn’t say a word to you and instead stood there awkwardly as he knocked things over. Why couldn’t he just act normal around you?

“Steve?” Your voice rang out, catching Steve’s attention. It was Friday and the party was on Saturday. If he was going to ask you, it needed to be soon.

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Brought you those files from Gary, finally. Sorry they took so long,” You apologized as you placed the papers on his desk. “Also, Mr. Stark wanted me to remind you about the party this Saturday. He said something about you having to bring someone and that you, and I quote, ‘Can’t just bring Barnes and make him wear a dress.’ Whatever that means.”

A blush had spread across his cheeks at the mention of Saturday. Somewhere in the back of his mind Steve just knew that Sam had gotten to Tony to make sure that he had to bring a date. “Oh, uh, thank you. I honestly forgot about Saturday.” Lies, all lies, Steve thought as he looked at you.

“Okay, well, if you don’t need me anymore, I have to go get some work done, but if you need anything, just let me know.” You said, turning towards the door.

Now or never, Rogers, Steve thought as he watched your retreating form. “(Y/N)? There is something that I need you to do.”

“Anything.”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Steve quickly asked as he watched your face shift into confusion.

“Um, nothing. Why?”

Oh gosh. Deep breath. “Would you be willing to go to the party on Saturday with me? Strictly as a friend, or as a work relationship. No! Not a work relationship!” Oh God, shut up, Rogers! “That’s not what I meant. I don’t just see you as my assistant. I see you as a friend and kind of more than a friend, I mean, you are absolutely stunning and I would love it if you would go to the party with me as my actual date, not just a friend taking another friend sort of thing, unless you only want it to be like that. Oh God, I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

Steve stood there waiting for your answer, probably as red as a tomato as he watched you. Your face still displayed confusion as you just stood there. Well I fucked that up, Steve thought, hanging his head in rejection.

“Pick me up at eight.”

Head snapping up, Steve found that the confusion on your face was replaced with a large smile. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” You smiled at him. “I think you are pretty stunning too.” You brushed back your hair when you said that, a little bit of embarrassment peeking through. 

“T-thank you,” Steve breathed out, his own smile fixing on his face. 

“Not a minute late, Rogers,” You winked as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek lightly. Quickly pulling back, you walked out the door, leaving Steve a blushing, giddy mess as he leaned against his desk, hand touching his cheek where your lips had just been.

“YES!” Steve shouted out in victory, throwing his hands up. Doing a quick victory dance, Steve sat back down in his chair and looked at the clock, urging it to go faster so it can finally be Saturday, the day he gets to take you out on a date.

Assistant: Part Two

[shadowalkingschemer]

Tag Fun

 say five (5) things you like about yourself,

(I should send this to 10 of my favorite followers, but I don't think I have any ^^; ...)

I was tagged by @violetosprey

My list of positive characteristics according to my friends (‘cause I’m totally inept at analyzing myself …)

1) Altruistic: If there’s anything I can do to help the people around me, I most definitely do it.

2) Good Listener: I think that sometimes I get a little too involved, but I listen very  carefully to my friends and try to dispense advices when asked.

3) Enthusiastic About Life: I try to find the silver lining in everything, and appreciate every single good thing I can find in life

4) Creative: I don’t know if I’m actually *good* at it, but making art (writing, acting, making playlist, etc) gives me the ultimate pleasure!

5) Bookworm: If it has words in it; I can read it!

… Whoah, that was a fun little exercise!

I guess I'm tagging everyone who wants to do it ^^;

Once again, many thanks to @violetosprey ​​for tagging me! <3

Hope you have a great day!

[kitsumiekat]

For Kingdom, For Her - Liam x Kina, Maxwell x MC  (3/?) (TRR Fanfic)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Kina (OC), Maxwell x Riley

Rating: PG (NSFW for certain chapters?)

Summary: In the aftermath of the attack, the Unity Tour starts of at Fydelia. But Madeleine still nurses a deep grudge not only to the royal family, but to the new Duchess Riley, and point blank refuses to step in to help. Help comes in a different form… and one that absolutely distracts Liam in ways he never expected.

A/N: TRR is on break again? T_T Just when it was getting good too!

Tags: @decisso 

---

Leaning on the rail, Kina closed her eyes, giving herself to the breeze as the boat Liam had commandeered zoomed its way out to the waters. The sun had begun to set, golden streaks melting into the dark as the stars begin to come out to play. As the boat began to stop once it got far enough out into the ocean, Kina turned to her back when she heard footsteps coming on the deck. 

“It’s a beautiful night.” she murmured looking out at the horizon, the purplish sky that was quickly darkening. He leaned on the railing next to her. The waves lapped slowly on the edges of the boat, and the soft bob of the boat was soothing as it was gentle.

“I’ve always loved how things are so quiet on water.” he responded in an equally soft voice, almost reverent as if he was afraid to taint the peace of the night. Liam turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing properly for the first time the fine contours of Kina’s facial features. In many ways, if one squinted, he guessed he could see the resemblance to Madeleine, but where his former fiancee was more strait-laced and serious, Kina’s smile seemed free spirited, yet something seemed to constrain it.

As if noticing his eyes on her, she turned to give him a questioning raise of her brows.

“I promised you lessons.” Liam quickly responded, hoping to deflect any questions he wasn’t ready to answer yet. Instead, he walked out to the deck’s bar and pulled out a chilled container, from where he produced a bottle of champagne. “And this first lesson requires some props.”

Kina laughed at the grin he wore, and strolled on over as Liam filled up two flutes of the bubbly, and took the one he offered her. “I thought Lord Maxwell was the drink connoisseur of our entourage?”

He smirked at her. “He is. But this first lesson is about toasts.”

“Not the edible kind?” she teased, and grinned when Liam laughed. Kina was beginning to realise that with all the stress of the attack, his father’s declining health and his broken engagement, the king rarely laughed.

The thing is, Kina sort of liked his laugh, really.

“No, the ones that require alcohol accompaniment.” Taking a sip of the bubbly, Liam twirled the stem in his finger, slipping a hand in his pocket. And for that brief moment, Kina saw the King he was brought up to be.

“Fortunately, it’s pretty simple. A good toast is all about acknowledging your audience, making them feel welcome regardless of the who or why they've come to see you."

Kina put on a thoughtful look. “Sound’s easy enough.”

“Shall we practice?” he suggested, clearing his throat. “Pretend you’re giving a speech at the Haberdasher’s Guild.” As Kina launched into a pretend speech, Liam found his chest swelling with pride at how at ease she seemed, and how well she would look on his arm as his Queen.

Whoah, slow down there Liam Constantine Rys. 

It was a harsh reminder, and Liam wasn’t stupid to deny the fact that he was entirely charmed by Makeena of Fydelia, but that didn’t mean he didn’t learn from rushing into things with Riley.

When she finished, he grinned and gave a light applause. “Nicely done.”

Kina gave a happy smile and a small curtsy. “I’ve watched how Father and Madeleine do it. I’ve... never had to do it myself of course, nor do I ever have to I guess, but I’ll definitely be able to be the fly in Riley’s ear should she need it.”

“Why did you never do it?” Liam asked in surprise. He would’ve assumed Godfrey would’ve had both his daughter’s on stage.

“I-” Kina started, and then paused as if considering her words. “Madeleine had always been the... one with more star-quality of the both of us. I preferred to stay within our family’s libraries. So Father’s always sent Madeleine as his representative. I was... the glorified housekeeper?”

Liam felt the familiar pinch of anger at Godfrey’s behaviour again, but kept his silence on her father, and instead took a step closer to clink his glass with Kina’s own. “I think you’ll do splendid as a Queen, even.”

His tone was a hushed whisper, audible only to Kina over the lapping of the waves on the boat, and for that split moment as their eyes met in their close proximity, Kina felt her breathe caught. She knew better then to read more into his words then she was supposed to. All her life, Godfrey had always reminded her that her aim in life was to provide assistance to her sister as Madeleine worked to uplift their duchy and to serve Cordonia. She was second rate in her father’s eyes, yet as Liam smiled gently, encouragingly at her... for the first time, Kina believe she could be way more then her father’s words.

“I believe you were here for lessons, Lady Kina.”

---

It was a quiet walk back to Penelope’s estate after docking the boat, but it was anything but quiet the moment Kina and Liam arrived, with the rest of the entourage gathered in a hallway leading up to the bedrooms that Penelope’s family had readied for them.

“Is there a sleepover planned that we didn’t know about?” Kina asked in surprise, as they approached the group.

“Hana,” Drake piped up immediately, horror mixed in with surprise in his voice. “You told me this was a strategy meeting!”

“Relax Drake. I invited everyone over to brainstorm.” Hana chuckled. “We need to make sure tomorrow’s polo match is a success!”

“About that,” Liam interjected from where he stood next to Kina. “Penelope’s parents wanted to speak to me about the match when I returned to the estate.”

“Are they getting us front row seats?” Maxwell asked, surprise and hope evident in his eyes.

Liam laughed. “Something like that.” he paused, and then gave a grin. “They want us all to play.”

---

In a way, Kina admired the king. Watching as the whole gang prepared for their polo match on the estate grounds, Kina noticed how easily they melded and played together, and how despite Maxwell having technically ‘stolen’ his sweetheart from him, Liam seems to treat the young Beaumont just like before, as a friend and a brother, with no malice or animosity in his actions at all.

He really is a noble King, and a gentleman at that.

“Interested?” 

Kina jumped, turning around to find Riley smiling knowingly at her. Immediately, her cheeks flushed, and the blonde shook her head quickly. “Nope. Just... making sure you’re all prepared for the game.”

“You don’t have to worry you know.” Riley murmured, handing the horse she had been riding off to a stable hand. “I may have been attracted to him back in New York at first, but it was a fleeting attraction. Nothing like what I feel for Maxwell. That being said... he is a very sweet man. I still feel bad for letting him down.”

“I’m sure Liam wouldn’t want you to tie yourself to a marriage you didn’t want though,” Kina replied when she saw the guilt flash past Riley’s face. “He only ever wanted your happiness.”

“Like how he puts everyone else before himself. He... needs someone who will put him first. And I’m willing to help him.”

As Riley said that, she gave Kina a pointed look, and the girl quickly averted her gaze, unwilling to entertain that idea. Instead, she quickly made a show of checking the time on her wristwatch, pretending to be surprised when she saw the time. “Come along, Duchess Riley. We’ll need to get you dressed for the match. Your main aim in the match is to...?”

“Impress Penelope’s family?”

Kina grinned, flashing Riley a thumb’s up. “That and wow the crowd, of course. Your biggest problem isn’t convincing Emmeline or Landon because I’m sure you’ll have that in the bag. It’s indifference.” Kina stopped at the entrance to the boutique, and quickly popped in, leaving Riley to follow as she padded over to a shelf marked as ‘reserved’. From there, she pulled out a floral dress with a flourish, grinning when Riley gave a pleased look.

“You do know how to pick a dress, don’t you Kina.” Riley commented, as she shimmied into the new dress.

“You don’t learn nothing after living with Madeleine for twenty-six years.” Kina replied breezily, helping the duchess with the zipper. “Now go out there and blow Portavira out of the water.”

---

The match grounds were filled with people and tensions were high as Kina slipped into the stands, eyes immediately searching out the royal entourage. It wasn’t hard to spot them, but what surprised Kina the most was how quickly Liam’s eyes settled on hers, and that within the next minute, he was suddenly jogging across the field in her direction.

“Hey.” Liam greeted, with a casual smile that hid his racing heartbeat, a result of adrenaline of the upcoming match, and the fact that he actually decided spontaneously to greet Kina the moment he saw her in the stands. Already when he announced he would be back within a few minutes, Drake and Riley both shot him suspicious looks. He had no doubt that speculation would be running wild on the Cordonian papers within the next week, but somehow Liam found that he didn’t care.

Kina gave a lopsided smile, unsure of how to respond. The king just literally made a trip across a polo field to greet her, someone relatively tiny in the sphere of things. How did one react to that?

“Hey. Nervous?” she asked, uncertainty lacing her tone.

He shrugged. “I guess. Neville and his big head are driving Drake up the wall, but otherwise I think we’re solid.”

Kina smiled, and for the moment neither of them said a word, just letting their gazes meet, before she finally cleared her throat when the sound of the umpire announcing the start of the game pierced through the cloud they had created for themselves. “Good luck.” she wished, a hesitant smile.

Liam grinned a bright smile that had her heart skipping again, before turning around to jog back. Left in a daze, Kina started when someone cleared their throat behind her. Turning around, she gulped when the disapproving face of Queen Regina stared at her. Apparently, the King Father had meandered off to their royal stand, but the Queen on the other hand, had lingered when she noticed Liam running to the stands.

“Know your place, Lady Makeena. I’m sure Lord Godfrey has taught you since birth.” she reprimanded, in a voice that clearly meant no nonsense. “You have much to learn from your sister.”

And just like that, Kina was reminded once again, of how highly everyone regarded her sister... and how dispensable she was to everyone else. Who was she to even imagine for one second, that she actually felt a difference around Liam? 

“Yes, Queen Mother.” Kina bowed respectfully. Because what else could one say in this situation?

[quincette]

I read on the tag somewhere that you're not into baby headcanon?It's cool tho I am sad because that means you'd never answer my ask which I sent ages ago... But how about this, let's try my luck. Reactions: the lords (and any side fellas/ninjas you want) on MC's pregnancy, buuuutttt plot twist: they're not the father!

Oohhhh helloooooo!

Lol, yes, you read right (I’m sorry!) I’m not particularly into babies and kids headcanon, not that I hate them but it’s just I have no plan on becoming anybody’s parent and there are many, many great writers in this fandom who do these headcanon justice and more (FLUFFY FLUFFY GOODNESS) so yeah, I’m not the best person (AT ALL) to send these asks to.

That being said. OH, MY GOD

“The lords (and any side fellas/ninjas you want) on MC’s pregnancy, buuuutttt plot twist: they’re not the father!”

WHY. Okay, when I first read this I thought this ask was an ATOMIC ANGST BOMB, but hey, I read that again and hmmm,  it could be a happy HC actually lol. I was assuming when this happened MC is in a relationship with that particular lord and HGSAHVDHMBJHBJKJHVGHHH

NTR (netorare = cuckold) trope could be perversely exciting but let’s not go there (I don’t have the mental capacity - it’s beyond me) and make these characters happy aite?

Headcanon after the break.

Nobunaga: That utter bore managed to get you pregnant? Well, well, well, he is… strangely proud, like, he could use little Mitsuhides to take care of his clan and little you to make more sweets, rite? Expect him to announce this to the whole clan out of the blue and expect him to declare himself the unborn babe’s godfather. Also, you are forbidden to do any chores but making desserts, is that clear?

Mitsuhide: He’s not surprised, he’s like, a million steps ahead of you. Your pregnancy term? As comfy and as enjoyable as it can be – he’s anticipated everything, from an army of helpers and all the logistics, down to the more shady stuff like preparing a safehouse and a cover story and escape route for you and the babe should something happen to the clan.

Yukimura: “Y-y-y-you’re pregnant? Saizo, you MUST marry her, like, NOW! SAIZO, you hear? Also, y-y-you, your body’s not just your own now! Stop that! I forbid you to work, you must rest!” – Well, he’ll be super flustered and fussy and all endearing if a bit over the top about it. Your child will have a super doting uncle.

Hotaru: You read and reread the words he wrote on a piece of paper. “Congratulations,” it says. “How do you make a baby with Oniichan? Can I have one with you too?” You’re not sure showing it to Saizo will get baby firefly killed, or Yuki killed. But Saizo simply Sigh™ when he read that and proceed to lock Hotaru together with Yukkin in a secret place where he stores every Love Guides he ever wrote. Problem solved.

Fuuma: “Saizo-san, Saizo-san, Saizo-san’s baby??? MIRACLE IT’S A MIRACLE, AH AH AH! WILL HE NOTICE ME IF I KIDNAP YOU I WONDER?!” Saizo would not take the chance and almost killed Kotaro though- which only convinced him that this unborn baby has made Saizo MORE MAGNIFICENT. He’ll leave strange gifts for you like lizard’s brain or something.

Saizo: Oh, how his little lord has grown. He’s both surprised but not really – he heard you two you know, going at it till dawn – perhaps even witnessed it once in a while, for a security reason, because Nobuyuki made him do it, because you know, enemy can attack anytime and Yukkin’s not exactly a multitasker when he’s um, busy, with you. He’ll be indifferent to it but that babe? You will carry it safely to term because he’ll make sure you’re safe. He’ll be also super indifferent when the babe is born but jokes on him because your child LOVES his uncle Saizo best.

Shingen: “How about that, so our late night drinking sessions did good for our little Yukimura afterall! Now, Yukimura – I trust you know how to please your pregnant wife?” Cue the advance smutty class from Shingen, and also regular session of How to Dad and How to Not Dad class.

Nobuyuki:  “Congratulations! Now, you two must wed now, you and Yukkin and make the babe legitimate Sanada child, won’t you?” *smile smile smile*. Then you found out that he has absolutely everything prepared, down to the fabric of your wedding kimono and the wedding banquet menu, which for some reason, couldn’t be more perfect if you had chosen them yourself. It’s almost like, he’s planned this.

Masamune: He is busy consoling Kojuro who is torn between feeling ecstatic and guilty because he is going to have children before Masamune. He is tremendously happy because he’s worried that Kojuro is working too hard for his own good. He is extremely thankful that you exist to carry the Katakura line for the benefit of the Date clan.

Kojuro: THE FEELS, OH THE FEELS, HOW HIS LITTLE BONTENMARU HAS GROWN. No, he’s not crying, wipe that grin off your face, Shigezane! The sky is blue, the sakura’s blooming, his skin has regained 10 years of youth and all’s fine with the world! He’ll take a moment to recover from the news before proceed to plan everything to ensure the safety and wellbeing of you and the babe.  

Shigezane, part I: “Good for you, Oldman! I was worried you’d grow too old! Now, Doll, quick! Find a name or else he’s going to name them Bontenmaru.” Then he would smile and be happy for you both even as he feels a strange melancholy in hearing this good news.

Shigezane, part II: “Kojuro, Kojuro, get ahold of yourself, Oldman! Call the fishmonger! We need carps! GIANT CARPS! COME ON! OUR MASAMUNE HAS MADE A BABY!” Then he would smile and be happy for you both even as he feels a strange melancholy in hearing this good news.

Hideyoshi: “Whoah…” is all he can say. He did on occasions push you together subtly and not so subtly in Mitsunari’s direction, but to actually hearing that not only you two are together but that you have made a baby together is a miracle! He’ll be the best enabler uncle ever! 

Mitsunari: “V-vile succubus! Hideyoshi why!” “Now that you are to be a mother –“ expect him to take a role of an overbearing mother in law. His tongue is sharper than ever but he is trying his best to be useful to you ease your pregnancy. Consider the education of your child settled.

Inuchiyo: You know what, in this universe, that is his baby, without any doubt, because #PuppyDeservesTheGirl2K17. And he is over the moon, and hella motivated to do SO WELL, SO WELL in being the head of the Maeda clan that it turns even the skeptical Toshihisa so proud he can die peacefully. He’ll name the baby boy after your father.

Ieyasu: He was strangely nicer to you lately and later you find out that he actually knew you were pregnant before you yourself do – he can read the sign. He was extra horrible to everyone else though, especially Toramatsu, who is the father of the baby. (Tadatsugu made a show of how happy he was for you both and he has approximately 20 strands of hair left on his head now.) Ieyasu makes all sorts of supplements for you – they taste revolting but you can’t deny that they work, you suspect he could have added honey to them to make them taste better but he just, chose not to, for some cruel reason.

Kenshin: “Ah! Ah! This is SUCH a good news, now, I thought you were a little plump but you look paler and Kanetsugu is way easier to escape from these days so yes, yes that makes sense! Oh, you’re pregnant, what a wonderful news! Ai, ai, you’re going to have a sibling – we must get you two matching clothes, oh what, what about a wedding? A SPRING WEDDING with all the FLOWER and, BOYS, BOYS, BOYS, we must get stuff for the wedding and – “

Hope that wasn’t too horrible. Hahahahah. Find my other writings on my masterpost 

[phosphorescent-naidheachd]

#thank!!!fucking!!!you!!! #gigantic fucking misconception that millions of fanfics/eu novels have used as an excuse to shit on the jedi #if jedi teaching actually is derived from buddhism #accurate buddhism #which we cant assume lucas knew or was authorial intent or whatever #but if we're assuming it's based off of accurate buddhism #theres a lot of emotion going around! #very little repression! #everyone talks about and through their feelings a lot! #and through that all emotion is let go and not grasped #the thing is #and where im guessing the misconception is #you dont see anyone in the prequels acting like that #i mean it seems everyone in the prequels is a horrible jedi #but obi wan seems to be particularly....horrible at this #we all know he represses like whoah #and everyones always saying hes a perfect jedi #so i get the confusion #and the worldbuilding...is not good #if theres still this confusion going around #i always had a positive view of the jedi due to my familiarity with emotions in buddhism and how i vaguely see that in the jedi #but i see how others would take a less postiive approach #like i feel like if the jedi followed this philosophy to the letter AND lived in a scientific society with an approach towards mental health #more or less like ours #they would have #gotten anakin some therapy for his cripplingly obvious borderline personality disorder #oh well #tag rants #sw (tags via @theinternationalacestation)

^^^^^^^^

I feel fairly secure in saying that I doubt Lucas looked very deeply into the philosophies he used as inspiration, so I suspect the prequel Jedi acting un-Buddhist at various points throughout the series is less a deliberate authorial choice on his part than it is a reflection of his own (mis)understanding of Buddhism. But this is one of those things that no one (except perhaps Lucas himself) really knows and will therefore have to remain a mystery. 

The takeaway though, is that as with so many other subjects in the series, we end up with a confusing disconnect between what seems to be Lucas’ authorial intention and what we actually see happening onscreen. And this leads to different fans -- who are already bringing their own sociocultural lenses and personal tastes to the table -- interpreting the material very differently and solving this narrative disconnect in drastically different ways. None of which are inherently wrong, I hasten to add... I just find it frustrating that certain interpretations (which tend to be pretty black-and-white) predominate the fandom to such an overwhelming degree. 

*nods* Yeah, Obi-Wan... has Issues(TM) when it comes to dealing with his emotions. (Or at least, he definitely does if we take EU works into account. If we’re just talking about the films, things become more open to interpretation. I can never quite decide where TCW falls on this continuum.) As do almost all of the main SW characters, Jedi or not, tbh. 

I think part of the problem is that Obi-Wan works very hard at projecting the image of being a perfect Jedi (which isn’t to say that he isn’t genuinely trying to be one as well), and a lot of characters -- even those who should know better! -- end up buying it. And, on a Doylist level, so do a lot of SW writers, which then furthers the problem in-text. YMMV here, though.

I KNOW, right? I didn’t know anything about BPD until a couple of years ago when I ran across a book about it in the library that someone hadn’t put away. (The book, amusingly enough, was titled I Hate You--Don’t Leave Me. Have you ever heard a more Anakin-sounding statement? Echoes of Mustafar right there, I tell you... which is why I looked at the book in the first place.) I don’t claim to be knowledgable about the disorder -- and as I haven’t done any research since, I have no notion how accurate that book was -- but going off of its description, Anakin seems like a textbook case of BPD. But since mental illness and its treatment in the GFFA is one of those topics that the films never cover -- and the EU only barely touches on -- we’re once again forced to revert to headcanons.    ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My brain is dead right now or I’d add more to this, but yeah, ultimately there are a lot of layers at work here.

[theadasave]

bill n bor

Barbor - 04/12/2018

------------ Bor poofs in while being in a box, loafing in it with some jerky in their beak's mask and a braille book in hand. They just wanted to visit this place to nap in after reading this cool story, this is- Oh shoot! Is that a roach pushing a cart?

They deserve some of this jerky, Bor places a few good pieces of the dried meats in there for it's travels.~

NULL - 04/12/2018

Bill seems distracted, but he does drift up in his small triangle form to float idly around the edge of the box with limp limbs and a decidedly absent looking eye staring deep into the braille. How long will it take him to learn to read braille just by looking at it? Probably nowhere near as long as it would take a person. Hah, people, those silly things. (15 codebreaking) It'll still take a while, though.

Barbor - 04/12/2018

[12 codebroken!] It was a bit of a well known book by HP Lovecraft, the collection edition! This part of the book was about a detective going mad after seeing dreaming about something. It looks like bor is trying to get some inspiration on how to make places that'll make mortals go mad(or at least have some trouble living in it). Bor felt like there was something looking over their shoulder and they had a hunch on who it is, his peach fuzz and patches of fur got super floofy while puring lots!~ "Hi Bill!~ Long time no see, how goes it?~"

NULL - 04/12/2018

"Oh, Lovecraft. I remember that guy. What a weirdo. He wrote some neat stuff though, and inspired even cooler things." His eye blinks to life once he's got the braille figured out and a general idea of what Bor is reading in it. "Boy, did you get even cuter than before?" He hovers closer, gives the baph a gentle prod with his elbow, then settles in right there, enjoying the contact with a friend whom he'd clearly missed. "It's going... better. I think I'm getting things figured out. A lot has been happening but there are still people for things to happen to."

Barbor - 04/12/2018

"Dude, I agree 100%~ I never met him but this stuff is cool.~"

The feeling is mutual! Bor is trying to restrain themselves from giving this triangle a big bug four armed hug, just prompted the baph to do so!~ A big snuggly hug with a weird mix trill-purr and demonic growling. "I dunno, man~ Maybe I have.~" "I'm glad to hear that things are getting better, you deserve it.~" That last part almost got bor confused but than they remembered Bill is omniscien, "You gotta catch me up on what's going down, I feel like I missed too much.

NULL - 04/12/2018

"You have missed a lot, but it shouldn't be hard for me to give you a summary of the important stuff sometime. A basic outline, anyway. That's all you'll really need. Where've you been, anyway? I can't bring myself to be mad at you because I know you've got stuff going on, but I was pretty lonely for a while there. Only Steve really stuck around after the whole Weirdmageddon thing and just. Ugh." He returns the hug with a sudden influx of extra arms for emphasis. Maybe even clings a little. For all his big talk and excessive power, he's probably still a pretty lonely guy at his core. "...alright so here's the super short and sweet version. I sat around and pouted for a while because I felt like I made a mistake in not just wiping this place out because things got boring fast. Nobody did anything and I was starting to get the feeling that I wasn't the only one sick of it all, right? So, since I decidedly don't want to break things beyond repair yet, instead of causing trouble myself, I started gradually wearing away at the borders between realities, and intentionally involving other, less god-like, but still pretty strong trouble-makers and do-gooders."

Barbor - 04/12/2018

They closed their book to give him their full attention, when Bill finished Bor had their antennae and ears perked up in surprise, so that's why there's so much new people here. "That's actually pretty smart," they let out a small hummed chuckle, not at all minding the clinginess"I know when you said you owned everything you mean everything, but you probably own those other realities too.~"  if this guy isn't a great role model when it comes to these things and it'll be really hard for them to change their mind. Bill's question made the demon gnaw on the still hanging piece of jerky anxiously. "And about me disappearing... I wanted to head back to my original world to give my ass of a old boss a piece of my mind. But," The baph shrugged a bit "I should've expect the guy to die from his own disease. It's sucked I didn't get to do it, but what can you do?... I'm sorry for leaving like that Bill, I should've let you know where I was going. At least let you tag along, I'm sure you would had fun killing the guy too."(edited)

NULL - 04/12/2018

"Aw geeze, well revenge sure is a good reason to get out of here for a while, but I would have appreciated a heads up. Note for next time, huh? I got myself pretty attached to you, so just let me know when you need downtime, if you can." Surprisingly agreeable, for Bill. The relatively short but still somewhat substantial amount of time he's spent out of isolation has done at least a little bit of good for his communication skills. He's probably going to stay attached to Bor like this for a while now, too. "So yeah! I'm pitting people against each other for entertainment. They'd probably call it "evil" or "manipulative", but honestly. Everyone would be so bored if not for me! That or off somewhere else, and frankly, I'm not too keen on sitting around by myself anymore. I'd like to never do that again."

Barbor - 04/13/2018

Bor is enjoying this multi-arm hug so much that they're actually considering napping like this, it's very comfy.~ They let a couple of chuffs in agreement, the demon would make sure to let him know. This demon is actually pretty relieved, they were kinda anxious about him being a bit mad after leaving like this. "I hear ya, you're just trying to keep things lively.~  I don't see why that's evil or manipulative," they paused for a bit, tilted their head a bit. eh, if they were in their shoes that'll be probably be the right words to put it. But HECC!! a little chaos never got anyone bored why should that be a problem now. "*humans pit themselves against each other before, I don't see why you doing it should be any different.  They'll probably be glad it happened when they look back at it in hindsight~"

NULL - 04/13/2018

Bill doesn't sleep, but he's been known to zone out and stare through space and time while sticking close to a friend in need of a dreamless rest, so he'd probably be willing to do that here and now with Bor. He hums in agreement, letting his eye drift closed while a few arms retreat back into his body, but not too many. Gotta keep that good grip. "Oh, and they do most of the legwork themselves. Whether they want to admit it out not, people are always looking for something or someone to fight against. If it's not full-scale war, it's a personal one, and if not that, they spend more time looking for things to get mad about than they do actually enjoying the peace. In general, anyway. There are always going to be exceptions."

Barbor - 04/13/2018

Dat good grip!~ A dreamless rest would be nice every now and then, everything gets confusing when their four little eyes are always open. Dreams and reality blends up too much for them to enjoy their rest sometimes. The fearamid is chaotic enough for it seem like one, and sure putting a eye mask on their head helps but it feels to silly to use. "Snrk, that sounds like the best part.~  It's like that fighting stuff is in everyone's blood, sometimes it's just good to get that outta ya.~" Bor cackles when they remember when they over heard a few people arguing over a vending machine before they came to this world. "Yeah, there gotta be some exceptions or else the world might be too unbalanced.  I think. Maybe?"(edited)

NULL - 04/13/2018

"Yeah, that sounds right. If it were all chaos and fights all the time, there's be nothing yet. I think I determined that a while ago. Oh, you remember that weird black dog? I made him a god, too. Just, you know, so that "balance" thing happens, and because running the place myself is a pain in my blocky foundation. You know what that means, don't you kid? It's like my ass. Haha." Those arms anchor down tighter and Bill enlarges himself to a reasonable Bor-lifting size. He proceeds to do that, floating with the Baph and his box both in tow up to the penthouse.

Barbor - 04/13/2018

"Kahaha, god do- whoah!" THEY'RE??? BEING CARRIED???? Hey this makes the baph/hell-cat bug thing very very happy, so much so that they're doing little bleating sounds while having those sparkle eyes their vessel always has. It's really never a dull moment when they're being carried while not being a roach, it's super thrilling~ "Oh ma-ehehehaan!" They couldn't help but bleat in mid-sentence, "where are we-" Oh it looks like they're going to the penthouse, better rephrase that question. "Why we heading to the penthouse?" It's a silly question they realized but the excitement didn't let them think it through.