#if we ever get a full conversation I'll light up a bar or something I'd actually lose it

[ladyelainehilfur]

"What part of her was frail?"

LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!!!!!!!

#don't even worry about me #I'm in my kacchako feels because I'm avoiding school and they make me happy #anyways one canon kacchako crumb and I'll go insane #if we ever get a full conversation I'll light up a bar or something I'd actually lose it #kacchako #mha bnha #my hero academia

[casspurrjoybell-26]

💖Sweet Revenge💖 - Chapter 10

*Warning Adult Content*

Blake Welling

Downtown Ashville is no metropolis but even so, it's hard to find parking and Aaron ends up in a spot some distance from the restaurant.

I've put more strain on my leg than I should over the last few days but he already seems on the edge of a bad mood and I don't want to risk pushing him over it by complaining.

'Peppino's Pizzeria' is a small, cozy place with lots of dark wood, dim lighting and an enormous wood-fired pizza oven.

The place is almost full, so we sit at the bar.

Not exactly the image I had in mind when I envisioned bringing him out to dinner but I'll take what I can get.

"What do you like on your pizza?" he asks.

Ever since we got in his car, there's been a weird, blank look in his eyes.

I can't tell if he's just tired or if it's something else but I wish I could make him laugh or smile.

In fact, any expression would be better than that cold, emotionless stare.

"When it comes to pizza, I'm pretty basic. Pepperoni's my favorite but I'll eat just about anything except the extra-veggie kind. I mean, if I wanted a salad, I'd eat a salad."

It's a sad attempt at humor, made even sadder when his expression doesn't change at all.

"We'll get pepperoni then," he says.

The pizza's amazing.

The conversation . . . not so much.

I try to draw Aaron out and get him to talk about himself or his work or his family or anything but I end up holding the silence off on my own.

By the time we walk back to his car, even my most optimistic inner voice is giving this date a failing grade.

We're about halfway there when I can no longer hide the fact that my leg hurts and I start to limp.

Aaron notices after a few steps and stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"You're limping."

I wave him off.

"I just overdid it hanging bikes and moving boxes and stuff. It's no big deal."

He doesn't say anything more but he walks extra slow the rest of the way.

We drive back in silence.

My mood has been steadily slipping towards the edge of darkness all night and I'm almost out of the energy it takes to keep it light.

Aaron parks on my side of the street, close to my shop and we get out.

"Well," I sigh.

"I enjoyed the pizza."

I'm not sure what else to say.

'I wish you didn't hate me. I wish I'd never hurt you. I wish you'd let me kiss you.'

"Goodnight," I say and give him a smile that I know doesn't reach my eyes.

I turn and take a few steps and then he stops me.

"Blake, wait..."

I stop and turn back.

Aaron's expression is finally something other than blank, though it's not much better.

He looks vulnerable and a little scared and a little defeated.

"I haven't been fair to you tonight," he says.

"I started out determined to have a bad time and to make sure you had a bad one too. You don't deserve that."

Yeah, I do and I should probably have said as much but instead, I see my chance and seize it.

"Hey . . . you wanna watch a movie? You can choose."

I know I sound pathetically hopeful.

"No," one word and my hope is crushed.

The corner of his mouth twitches and then... finally... he smiles.

"No," he says again.

"I picked the restaurant. You can pick the movie."

~♡~

My apartment's not big but I have a normal-sized sofa and an adequately large TV.

I get us a couple of beers and we sit with one space between us as I set up the show.

"What genres do you like?" I ask.

"Romance and horror," he answers promptly and I laugh.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing."

Actually, I'd thought he was joking.

"How about Chocolat, then? It's kind of a sappy chick-flick but it's got candy in it. Eye-candy, too, if you like Johnny Depp."

He shrugs.

"Anything's fine."

I start the movie and it seems I've chosen wisely.

Somehow, Aaron's never seen it before and he gives a running commentary on the chocolate and the scenery, the music and the actors.

Usually, it would annoy me to have someone talk that much during a film but it's more than I've heard him say yet and somehow everything out of his mouth is sweet and funny.

About halfway through he starts to get quieter and I can tell he's tired.

I take a risk and put my arm around him, pulling him against me.

"Here... you can stretch out like this. I know you're tired."

For a second it seems like he's not having it but then he relaxes and leans against me, pulling his legs up on the sofa and lying on his side.

I hope he can't feel how hard and fast my heart is beating because it's sort of pathetic how thrilled I am just to have him this close.

The movie rapidly loses my attention.

His black hair is fine and soft and he smells like sugar and cocoa and underneath that is his own subtle male scent.

I don't know if it's pheromones or just soap and clean skin but it's driving me crazy.

His long lashes cast fan-like shadows on the smooth curves of his cheekbones and the soft swell of his lips draw my eyes like a magnet.

Then his eyes flick upwards and he sees me watching him.

"What?" he asks, dark brows raised.

His eyes shine like blue topaz in the light from the TV.

"Aaron . . . can I kiss you?"

"I don't know," he says, looking down so his eyes are veiled.

He looks back up and a little smile curves his lips.

"Can you?"

My breath catches on the hope that's suddenly stuck in my throat.

"May I?"

He reaches up and loops an arm around my neck, pulling me down.

His mouth seems to melt like butter against mine... soft lips and a warm, wet tongue.

I explore him gently.

At first, he's passive, letting me have the pleasure of discovery but then I feel his tongue slide past my lips and he turns the tables.

Raising himself, he twists to straddle me, so his head is slightly above mine and angled down and we're pressed together chest to groin.

As he kisses me I slide my hands beneath the hem of his shirt and over his body.

He's slim and smaller than me but not soft.

I feel taut muscle beneath his smooth skin and I can tell it's the strength of deliberate training.

He pulls back and a strand of saliva connects our mouths.

I wipe it from his lips with my thumb and look up at him with breathless adoration.

He smiles and it's beautiful.

"I love your smile," I say.

"I wish I saw it more often."

And just like that, I fuck things up.

His smile... rare, beautiful thing... flickers and dies and I see the blankness creeping in at the corners of his eyes.

"Aaron," I say, brushing the back of my hand against his cheek.

"Baby, don't do that. Don't keep it all inside, okay? If you ever want to talk . . . I'll listen."

Abruptly he pushes himself off me and gets up.

"You don't know me, Blake," he says, his voice isn't angry or cold.

It's just . . . tired.

"You don't know anything about me and I'm not your baby. I'm sorry. I can't do this. Thanks for the movie. Goodnight."

He's gone before I can gather the thoughts he scattered with the touch of his lips and stop him.

[beetsandskzreads]

silent bright summer night

bang chan x gn!reader, y/n works with skz and became their friend (the ultimate dream haha)

genre: tooth-rotening fluff, slight angst with a happy ending

notes/warnings: nothing intense, this is very fluffy, there's brief mentions of cheating, long distance, y/n's exes, fear of abandonment, slight insecurities, deep talks, reader and chan are slightly wine drunk, y/n and chan are whipped, y/n makes it explicit they want to date someone very warm and caring (aka chan), i don't think that's a warning tho djsjs just saying

scenario: on a balcony, at a beach apartment on a summer night of vacation, y/n opens up to chan about their past and current lovers. what y/n doesn't know is why chan is so interested listening to it.

It was 1:01 am when chan and I found ourselves in the balcony that overlooked the city and it's bright lights on a summer night. Skz had gone to sleep right after all of us came back from a night out of lots of fun, buying stuff on stores by the beach, having ice cream, seeing the view of the city lights reflecting on the sea water, appreciating street artists...

The two of us had been talking the whole evening, we hung out as a group but mostly just spoke to each other and laughed at the members jokes, both of us having a sparkle in our eye every time we saw the group happy. There was this unspoken pleasantness, a bliss, calmness in the air but with a lot of excitement. Chan was so happy to be around the sea with "the kids" as he refers to them and being at the beach almost 24/7 this week, it was like his natural habitat, his home, a comfort place. It left you feeling even softer for him, and as you shared your love for the sea, your feelings were at a peak. You liked Chan, and you loved this place as much as he did.

The night was so great, everyone was out like a lightweight as soon as we arrived to the vacation apartment we're in. Chan and I were testing the theory that a glass of wine would help us get drowsy and help us fall asleep as well, since we both have trouble falling asleep and felt nothing but a remaining excitement from the night out. It came to me especially because of the enthusiasm of talking to him, we were connecting so well, I didn't want this to ever end.

And so we drank (one glass quickly becoming the whole bottle) and we talked for what felt like hours on end, that neither of us wanted to cease.

- My ex best friend, she never quite knew how to choose guys, she always went for the ones that would never turn her way, the ones who obviously wouldn't care about her, not because of her, but because they were really careless guys, walking red flags. - I told him, I couldn't remember where exactly the conversation started but we were talking about nice people picking shitty people to date.

- What about you? - he asked

- Me? I barely even like guys, I mean I do, but I'm really picky actually, I don't allow myself to fall for cold people, I wouldn't forgive myself if I took interest in someone rude, I try so hard to take care of myself so I either stay alone that way or I find someone who makes me feel better, who knows how to take care of me, after all we chase happiness, I think a caring person could do that, someone gentle who isn't scared of emotions or who at least is open to face that fear with me by their side.

- I get it, it's hard to get by if you don't have emotional support, a partner should be able to provide that support, yeah. Did you ever... find someone like that?

- Yeah, in the past I did and even now I do know someone more than ideal... I guess my ex partners when I was young were going through a soft phase tho... I guess everyone has an emotional limit they were scared to cross... once I found that barrier the relationship stoped evolving, reached a dead end and so there was nothing left for me anymore and I left, plus, you know, cheating, long distance, a bunch of stuff really... it wasn't meant to be and I'm okay with that.

- What about that someone right now?

Silence ruled for about 3 seconds before I knew what to say. That someone right now is him. Ever since I've known him feels like he's the only man ever, but I don't think I'd tell him that, not soon anyways.

- What about 'em?

- What's that person like? What makes you trust they're any different from your exes?

- Sometimes I fear they're not, but I set the bar really high and I reset it constantly, to make sure I'm seeing it right, sometimes they seem so perfect to me that I wonder what good have i done in my past life to deserve to be around such a bright person. Of course they make mistakes too, but even the way they deal with them is so... mature, it's so easy to just solve things communicating, it's insane to me. Then I remember it's probably because they're eventually gonna leave me too, or just not reciprocate my feelings and after they break my heart I'll probably loose all hope in love, be heart broken for two years until I decide I'm gonna focus on myself again... it's a cycle after heartbreak, but with this person I'm really scared, because they mean more. I'm way too deep in before I've even expressed my feelings, it's gonna be devastating. - I'm rambling, the wine made me do it.

- What makes you think they wouldn't like you back tho?

- I'm not sure I just... it would be too good to be true and it's complicated... he's amazing and I'm just not sure if he'd be into me, I mean, I think I'm lovable and I think I'd be a great lover, I just don't know if I'm his type or if he'd consider me. We have a bit of an age gap, I'm not someone who's typically pretty or specially good looking, I have my charms but I have no idea if that's enough for him to be in love. It's complicated with each others work too... - I notice chan's gaze on me, he has his head leaned on his hand on the table and he's looking at me with bright eyes, eyes that look tired and a little drunk but somehow, he manages to look at me in a way that makes me feel adored, I don't know why you have to make me feel so much love, Bang Chan - Why are you looking at me like that?

- You have no idea how other people perceive you, do you? - he ignored your question, probably because of his drunk-ish drowsy state - Everyone I know likes you, see, you're a naturally kind and caring person, you're attentive to people's needs, you make sure everyone feels comfortable around you... that's so appreciated by everyone. I think you're exceptional y/n, you have this charismatic way of existing, a refreshing and comfy presence everyone can feel, but to me... it feels like home. You feel like home y/n. So... I have no idea who that person is but I sure as hell know they'd be more than lucky to have you as a partner and they're definitely dumb if they let you go.

- Are you dumb? - my heart's pounding quicker as I'm about to do something I didn't plan on doing ever.

- Huh? No, why w-

- Because that person is you... I like you, Chan. In a more-than-friends way - I interrupt him quickly before I lose my newly found courage.

Chan could've sworn his heart stopped for a few seconds. Suddenly sobriety hit him like a truck. It was the alcohol that made you say that, he thought, but he wished it was true and you didn't drink enough to be lying about this kind of stuff, you had a full on conversation and you seemed pretty sober.

- Y-y/n are you sober? - he tries to navigate through the situation.

- Oh my... yeah I am, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, it just rolled out of my tongue. I'm sorry... - you said as you panicked and tried to go back inside, regret filling up all your organs.

"I messed up" your brain keeps repeating as desperation starts entering your body, until Chan grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving.

- Wait! You don't need to apologize, I'm glad you told me... You didn't think I'd say all that about you if I didn't like you as well, did you? - he asks suggestively.

- I don't know - you blush as you realize what he's getting at - You're just so nice to everyone, I didn't make a big deal out of it.

- Well, you should've made it a big deal, the biggest deal actually because I've been trying really hard to show you how I feel these past few days and you were so clueless I thought you were purposefully ignoring the signs because you didn't like me back.

- I'm sorry Channie, I just didn't want to assume stuff and get heartbroken if it wasn't true.

-Well it is true, so you don't need to worry anymore. I really like you too, y/n. And I've wanted to say it for a while too, I was just wondering if it was a good idea since you work with us, but I can't contain my feelings anyways... you always treat me so softly and you look after the kids really well... It just feels like you were made to be by my side, you're the embodiment of the person I've always dreamed to be with, and these past few days with the kids and you... it just felt like we were the perfect family you know? I don't think I could be without you by my side anymore... - he stops, he's been staring at your eyes the whole time and now they're starting to water.

How could you not cry when he's saying the things you thought you'd only ever hear in dreams?

- Why are you crying sweetheart? - he whispered, as he wipes a tear with his thumb, the other hand holding your hand as he stands closer every second.

- It's just... I'm so... happy - you smile through your tears - I'm so happy to hear that, you said it in such a beautiful way too... I feel exactly the same, it's like I've gained a family with you guys but you... I've grown really attached to you, feels like some parts of you are tangled in my heart in ways I couldn't tear apart if I wanted to... I'm drawn to you and when I'm with you it's comfortable, blissful, it's right. You're so good to me, it's unbelievable, but it's true, and it warms my heart. - you say as your foreheads touch and your smile grows, his eyes showing so much adoration for you, you could melt.

Suddenly you share your first kiss together, a soft yet passionate mix of sensations, and it felt like everything you ever felt around Chan but better.

You stare into each other's eyes, smiling like the little lovely goofballs you both were, noses touching, ocasional little pecks filled with giggles because you were whipped for each other.

- So this means we're exclusive lovers now, yeah? - he asks with a blushing face, a very silent giggle and a huge, uncontrollable smile.

- Definitely, yeah - you answer biting your lip until eventually you let out the largest smile you ever had.

Needless to say, you didn't leave that balcony to go to sleep that evening. In fact, you two watched the sunrise kissing and cuddling, talking about the feelings you had for each other, when they started, why you liked each other, covered by a blanket, not wanting to let go of each other now that you were openly romantic.

Han found you both sound asleep, you on chan's lap, head on his neck as his arms wrapped around you gently, on a chair in the middle of the morning. He obviously called all the members to watch you two as they assumed you two finally got together. All of them saw it coming, Chan wouldn't shut up about you and had written what could be an entire album about you.

They were happy at least you'd be around more often to cook your delicious food. And you both blushed really hard once you woke up to lot's of teasing from the kids, it was fine tho, you liked it just like this, it was home.

#skz fluff #chan fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #bang chan imagine #bang chan fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fluff #bang chan angst #chan angst #skz oneshots #skz angst

[writingsfromstarfleet]

Q - I’ll Be Back

♫ - Wire to Wire - Razorlight

For the lovely @okamiredfoxx, I hope you enjoy! You lot too, hugs! ♡

Q the omnipotent was a handful. Q the human was even worse. The crew of the Enterprise never would have believed such a thing was possible, the man most certainly couldn't get any more annoying than he already was, right? Sadly for them, they would realise how wrong they were.

Q was less than pleased that he had to 'suffer' the 'blight' of being human, in his own words, arguably his worst nightmare. It was his punishment from the continuum for his behaviour, but he believed it was a bit excessive. So Q had made it his mission to be as irritating as he could for as long as he could.

"Enough, Q!" The captain shouted, growing tired of the complaints coming from the man behind the glass. "You're tired, you're falling asleep. You're not dying, now be quiet."

"This is no fun, Picard." Q huffed and sat back, arms folded and a frown on his face like a child who had been told off.

Quietly, from the corner of the room, you had been observing the scene, tending to your duties as you should. Glancing up now and then, you were met with Q staring back each time without fail. Captain Picard and Riker had long since left, leaving you in the room alone with Q. Neither one of you had spoken, the silence surrounding you becoming a little uncomfortable.

"So do you talk then, ensign?" Q asked, sitting upright now in curiosity.

"I do, do you ever stop?" you quipped back, narrowing your eyes with a cheeky grin. Taken aback by your bold statement, he raised his eyebrows.

"Not what I expected from you, ensign..." Q trailed off, waiting for your name.

"Y/N, just call me Y/N. I'm rather full of what you won't expect."

With that, you left the room, leaving him to think over the happenings of the past five minutes. Q sat upright, brain racking through the conversations; not many people had talked to him like that before, not many people humoured him either. He wondered if it was a one time meeting, or whether he had peaked your curiosity enough for a second.

Picard had assigned Data to watch Q during his time as a human guest aboard the ship. He accompanied Q everywhere, and they found themselves eventually in Ten Forward.

"I'm sure it was," Guinan smiled gently, but dropped her sentence as her eyes flicked away from you and to the door, a look of dismay spreading across her face. "Oh no."

Confused, you turned, wondering what the object of her annoyance was, and you were not surprised to find it was the object of everyone else's annoyance. Q strolled in with Data at his side, and the two took a seat at the bar a couple of seats away from yourself.

"This is Ten Forward," Data began, motioning around the room for Q. The man was paying no attention, his eyes locked with yours since he sat down. "This is where the crew drink and relax, of which I believe you should indulge. Perhaps a drink, or something to eat?"

"Hm?" Q hadn't been listening to a word the android was saying, only responding when you nodded your head to Data to indicate there was a question requiring an answer. "Oh, yes, whatever, something to eat."

"Of course."

"Do you talk, Q?" you reiterated his question from the previous day, another mischievous smile on your face.

"To you, mi amore? Forever."

You laughed, taking a sip of your own drink. Data was talking away next to Q, but his words were most certainly disappearing in the air. Since seeing you, Q had taken in nothing but the mere sight of you. He wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it felt almost pleasant. He hated that, but he couldn't deny it.

"Data," you chimed in, stopping the android's current flow of speech. "If you don't mind, I'd like to steal Q from you for a while."

"But the captain-"

"As long as he's being watched, I don't think the captain will mind. And if he does, send him to me."

Data thought about it for a moment, before standing with a nod and leaving. Guinan had wandered off, too, leaving you sat alone at the bar with Q. Neither of you spoke for a minute or two, simply enjoying each other's company and sharing quaint smiles with the other.

"Well, you've been staring long enough, Q, now's your chance; whatcha want?" you asked, innocently and flatly.

"I'm not sure, my dearest ensign, but I most certainly want it to continue" Q spoke confidently, moving to sit on the seat directly to your left. You smirked, leaning a little closer to him.

"Finally, something we can both agree on."

You sat for what felt like hours, and quite probably was, people filtering in and out of Ten Forward around you. Lost in conversation, you hadn't cared. Q and yourself talked about nearly everything you could, from your time growing up to his ventures through the quadrants. He was full of stories, and unsurprisingly so.

Each day for the next week, you'd accompanied him instead of Commander Data, and he kept to you compliantly. Shocked and confused the crew were, that much was true. They never thought Q could be so quiet and reeled in, and in Riker's words, 'not an annoying, bratty man-child.' Such things you simply laughed off, knowing that Q was far from that to you, at least. He seemed kind, considerate and intelligent, and never failed to make you laugh or hold your attention with a story.

You were in your quarters tending to some work, Picard having taken Q from you for a while. As you sat by your desk, you looked out into the stars on the other side of the window and sighed contently. A voice came from behind you, gentle so as not to startle you.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

"Q?" You hadn't heard the door open, which is why you were confused.

"The one and only," he moved closer to you. "You're the only sight more beautiful than that." He motioned to the window and you blushed red.

"Ever the romantic."

Q pulled you closer to him and you rested your head against his chest. A flash of light beside you caught your attention, and Q handed you a red rose. That's when you realised why you hadn't heard the door open.

"Does this mean you're leaving, then?" you asked, not unkindly, but rather sadly. He pulled you to look at him, taking your hands in his own.

"Y/N," Q started, bringing one hand to cup your face. "It's never for long. That I promise you."

As you looked at him, he smiled down at you, lifting your chin with his hand and placing his lips on your own. Q kissed you for what felt like forever, and your arms came you wrap around his neck, hands entangling themselves in his hair. Breathless, you pulled away from him to find him smirking.

Q pressed one last kiss against your lips and winked.

"I'll be back."

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #the next generation #tng #q #q x reader #q imagine #imagine #x reader

[freesiart]

One of us

Loki’s life in Avengers tower is not that unperturbed as it might seem at the beginning.

English isn’t my first language, I apologize if there were any mistakes!

Gif is not mine

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. It must have been those weird midgardian vibes that left him panting at the mere sight of you.

You were average, really. Loki had seen many beautiful women, goddesses even, and still there was something weirdly attractive about you. He didn’t know what exactly it was. Or why did he memorize your every movement, every tilt of your head, every curve of your body.

Also he didn’t know why his heart ached so much when you wouldn’t even spare him a glance. He was a god, after all.

Loki didn’t like his room. It was large and empty, with huge blue windows and no furniture except for a bed and a wardrobe. He didn’t ask for anything else, really, but still his room seemed cold and blank. He preferred a common room: it was warm, cozy, it smelled like coffee. Then again, you spent here most of your time.

You were never an early bird, but your job required you to get up first. Well, if working meant drinking coffee till noon.

When at dawn you walked into the common room yawning, Loki sat up straighter on the couch and clasped his hands awkwardly in his lap. In a very divine way.

“Morning, Loki,” you greeted, yawning and shoving a mug into a coffee machine. You almost missed it.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Loki replied, trying to keep his voice at ease.

“Would you like some coffee?” you asked, pressing a button on a machine. “Black like your soul?” you suggested mockingly.

Loki swallowed. He did not expect your participation; truth to be told, he didn’t expect you to be friendly with him at all.

He forced out a smile.

“Actually, I like it with milk,” he corrected. You grinned and pulled a bag out of a fridge.

"Is Mr. Stark awake yet?" you asked. Catching his questioning glance, you explained, “Vision told me that you spent a whole night here. And the night before.”

Loki frowned.

“I haven't seen Stark,” he replied rudely. “I'm not his keeper.”

You said nothing and pushed a mug of coffee towards him. A bit harshly.

Loki's heart skipped a bit.

He always felt a strange tension when he was with you, as if he was afraid to ruin everything with an accidental phrase or gesture.

That’s what he did right now, apparently.

“I ... I apologize,” he quickly said. “That was undeservedly rude.”

You silently poured yourself some coffee and sat down next to him. You were separated only by a bar counter.

You twirled a mug in your fingers. It was your favorite, handmade, with blue flowers on the sides. You raised a mug to your lips, and Loki looked away. His heart was beating wildly.

“I told Mr. Stark that your room is too empty a long time ago,” you finally said, and typed something on the touchpad on your wrist. “I'll order furniture. Any requests?”

Loki bit his tongue so as not to blur out anything obscene.

“No need. I prefer it here... if I’m not a bother,” he quickly added.

“Not at all, but...” You fell silent, choosing your words. Loki noticed that when you was thinking, your nostrils fluttered slightly. It was very cute. “I think everyone needs personal space. Sometimes, at least.”

Loki took a sip of coffee - great coffee. He didn't understand why you were so kind to him. You were the only one who was, besides Thor.

“In that case, furnish to your liking,” he said, grinning.

You smiled back at him, in such a clean and light way that his chest tightened. Odin, he didn't even deserve to be near you.

“Okay! I’ll do my best.” You looked at the touchpad again and frowned, emptying the mug in one gulp. “Damn it! I'm late for the aircraft detour.”

You grabbed a jacket from the chair and jumped up. Loki stood up, too.

“Can I go with you?” he asked, trying not to show his nervousness. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you buttoned your jacket, and he added: “It's just I’m bored. I thought I'd keep you company.”

“Of course, let's go.” You touched him on the shoulder, and he shuddered, as if from an electric shock. Quickly recovering himself, he caught up with you, still feeling the pleasant electric warmth in his hand.

***

The walk took twice as long as usual.

Loki could talk to you forever. You were smart, funny, interesting, and you didn't make him feel guilty or left out. He felt like you did not hold a grudge against him at all.

This conversation was the best thing that has happened to Loki in many years.

Laughing and bantering playfully, you finally returned to the common room. Which was full of people.

Avengers assemble, Loki thought sourly.

He stopped at the entrance and leaned against the doorframe. You went to the counter, pushed Natasha out and started pouring fresh coffee for everyone.

There was an awkward silence. You pretended to be passionate about a coffee machine, Loki did the same about his nails.

When you put a mug in front of Tony with a smile, he coughed.

“Y/N,” he began. “You... why were you with him?”

Either you were really surprised, or you portrayed it so skillfully that even Loki did not guess.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as you handed mugs to Steve and Nat. “We were on a detour. As you asked. No big deal.”

“Yes, you are great, I adore you, and the coffee is great as always. But he...” Tony jabbed a finger at Loki. He rolled his eyes. “Why was he with you?”

You shrugged and leaned your back against the counter, drying your hands with a towel. Nat and Steve looked at you with sympathy.

“I have no idea why I haven't kicked him out yet,” Stark muttered and sipped his coffee. “Do not ever come near her again, do you understand?”

Pure, unmuffled hatred spilled into Loki's chest. What right does he have to prohibit communicating with you? The only thing that has kept him in the Avengers tower so far?

But before he could open his mouth, you retorted:

“You are my boss, not my father. I'll hang out with whoever I want, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, really, this is not...” - Natasha began, but Stark interrupted her:

“As long as you work here, you will do as I tell you, Y/N. And I forbid you to communicate with that... with him. Maybe you were just a child in 2012, but I remember very well what he is capable of.”

“Is that so?” you asked coldly and met Stark's gaze without blinking. “Then I quit.”

“What?” all those present exclaimed in chorus. Loki felt something rip inside of him. To the anger was added a sharp, tormenting longing.

"Kid, I ..." Tony rubbed his face and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I shouldn't have put my authority on you. You are pretty capable of making decisions, and I trust them.” He looked up at Loki. There was a clear threat in his gaze. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

Your face softened, and you covered Tony's hand with yours. Steve breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Don't worry,” you said calmly and smiled at Stark, then looked at Loki, and the smile widened. “I know what I'm doing.”

Well, that's good, Loki thought. That makes one of us.

#loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #imagine #loki fandom

[firelonewolf]

Irresistible

Summary: basically the reader like Deadpool and Deadshot and well, Deathstroke. Let's just a few tweaks from all of three of them. And let's say Billy Butcher sort of loves the wild card type of woman as well.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader

A/N: I figured this might be interesting for Butcher to have. Gonna admit, I used google translator for the Arabic. Sorry if it's wrong. Also remember the reader mainly gonna be like Deadpool, you'll have to expect some dirty language! Not mention I had to, because Deadpool's humor hilarious. Originally I had this edited, but Tumblr messed up, again. And I'm too lazy for it.

Being a product of a lab wasn't the best. Besides the point when they decided to throw you in an orphanage. Where you spent your days hating life because no one ever wanted you. Than before you knew it, you ended up being adopted in middle school. All because you picked pocket the wrong person, a man who was blind. His name was Idris Salah a man from Egypt. Little did you know, he knew from being a US Marines before. A lonely man who took it upon himself to spend time with you. Where you learned self defense, he pushed you to use it for good instead of bad. Even made you learned more skills that were useful. You could say he was your father figure.

It should also be mentioned he didn't force religion on you or anything. But Idris wasn't very religious himself either, but was somewhat. He mainly taught you what it was like to have family, hes a good man. A man who's side you still stick with.

Like when both of you found you were a product of Vought, and than when it came out all superheros were made in labs. And you found out you were one of them. Idris was the one who told you it didn't make you any less of who you were. Which was a superhuman. What could you do though?

Well, you had regenerative healing no matter what. But you had low leveled enhancement, with strength, stamina, agility. But you had enhanced eyesight and dexterity and had excellent marksmanship. Skilled with swords. Immunity to diseases and chemicals. Than on top of it you learned Spanish, Arabic, Japanese, Urudu and a couple of others. You mainly spoke Arabic with Idris to not lose that.

And ever since you became an adult, things took a different turn. Before you knew it you became a mercenary somewhat. Which lead you ending up working for other people for money. Paying your and Irdis's bills and groceries and saving for his retirement. And than becoming a parent didn't help.

You had a daughter, and you let her stay with her father. He refused to give you full custody knowing what you can do. Her name was Samara, but liked to be called "Ara." She liked being called that for some reason. Perhaps it had a better ring to her? You're not sure but she was one of the most important people to you.

Today was suppose to be the normal. Normal as in do your usual assassinations of who ever. Send a message to whoever. Anything that was scheduled for your job. This who were, nothing else. After dropping Ara at school you headed to the park apparently a client wanted to disgust a business opportunity.

Wearing a dark gray sweater with black pants and boots. With some makeup to your eyes pop out than there was a backpack on your back. Black shades on your eyes. Sitting on park bench leaning your back against it. In the middle of Central Park in early October. Let's say you looked badass even with casual wear, and you bet your ass you knew it too.

Some sat behind you, you could sense it despite your back turned. "Chilly day isn't it?" You hear a feminine voice say. Shrugging your shoulders in response.

"Indeed. Nothing compare to the weather in a few months" you remark glancing around the area. Making sure no one else was around in a earshot.

"Agree. NYC in winter one of the worst places to drive" she remarks back to you. "If I'm correct, your Death Strike correct?" She inquires to you in response. That makes you laugh pulling a cigarette out not lighting it. Just biting down on it still appreciating the ritual.

"One and only" you remark. Touching the paper of the cigarette. Enjoying the taste of non smoked tobacco. Simply enjoying it to remain less stressed at the point. "Have a job for me sweetheart?"

A chuckle came from her at this point. "Madelyn Stillwell CEO of Vought International, and boy, or should I say boys, do I have a job for you. You might like this one than your usual. You interested?" She inquires to you with a grin.

"Is there money involved?" You remark with a smirk.

"Lots of money," she remarks. "Come back to Vought International with me, we'll disgust." Reluctantly you agreed following her as she made casual conversation with you. Soon enough taking off her coat and bringing you to a meeting room.

Never did you expect yourself to be in the Seven's floor, ever. Moving to the meeting room you than spotted the one, the only, Homelander. Scout boy that Vought tried to present to the world, but you knew it was a lie. No one was ever a good two shoes, especially someone with his gifts. Homelander noticed your presence and made eye contact seizing your up. "Makan jamil" you say in Arabic observing the place.

"You speak Arabic too? Your file never said that." Stillwell comments to you.

"Learned it when I was twelve," you remark back. "Let's disgust business. I'll get it done soon a possible," you say to her.

"Wait a minute before we start. You're the mercenary, Death Strike?" Homelander inquires to you making you chuckle.

"Blondie, what did you expect? A man six foot and bald?" You grin in response. Taking the fake cigarette out of your mouth placing it in your pant pocket. "Sorry to be a disappointment."

Homelander flashed his Hollywood in your direction. "Its just, your too pretty to be a mercenary. Figured you to be a model or well, a bartender something more common." He remarks back to you with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Flattering will get you everywhere" you turned away to hide your smile. "Don't let me deceive you, I'm quite the wild card type" replying to him. This seem to catch his interest.

"I wouldn't underestimate her," Stillwell pipes up. "Shes never missed a shot. Killing her isn't a solution either" she comments. Before her gaze meeting yours. "I've gone through some old Vought files. You were registered under a different name, I believe it was Wilson or something as your surname. Took a while, but you're basically immortal. Regenerative abilities with immunity to many chemicals and diseases. Everything just grows back, like an axolotl. Others think your a psychopath or not mentally all there. Some believe she had the ability to manipulate bullets. Mind telling me that if that's true?" She shrugged your shoulders again that.

"I'm just here for my contract and money. Now who do you want killed?" You remark getting right down to business. "Need guys balls smacked into reality? How about nice bullet to massage their head?" You inquire to them. "Which one, I have a variety options!" Awaiting the answer. Leaning your waist against the table.

Both of them glanced at each other before Homelander leaned forward. "Perhaps for now, I need you to teach a lesson to someone. Someone named William "Billy" Butcher. We want you to send the guy to message, anything of your picking." Butcher, interesting surname in your opinion.

Must've been the temperamental type, it had to be a trait in the family. Why else would there ancestors gain the surname Butcher? "Got it. He should be an interesting one, Butcher. Twist of his balls should turn change his mind about doing whatever hes been doing to piss you off." You remark, "I'll expect the money to be in my account in about let's say, by at least eight tonight. Won't be long before I have him in my sights." You say heading to the elevator of the tower. About to take a turn at the elevator. "Hope I see you around blondie" winking with a charming smile. Leaving knowing you've caught the interest of the American golden boy.

Having fun with it when you could was great. Might as well take advantage make sure your rememberable, and you know you are. Heading out of Vought International you headed straight to be loft. Idris sat in the recliner listening to the radio with his cane by him. "(Y/N)? What took you so long? Actually, I'd figured you be at the bar by now." Idris says not turning his head.

"Oh you know, I had to go tickle someones ball. Had to put my hand to work, give a little anal" you remark. To feel Idris stare and turning to see the expression on his face. "I'm kidding! Had another business opportunity. Have a date with a Mr. Butcher, give him a nice signal maybe convince him to doll himself up for me."

"Sometimes I question why no orphanage doesn't give a receipt" Idris comments to himself.

"Than who would annoy you?" You remark as you grab your suit and mask and weapons. Only to hear the remark of a annoyed sigh from Idris. "I'll be back" you say to mimick Arnold Schwarzenegger from Terminator. It only takes a few minutes to get the suit on and the weapons.

Your suit was a body tactical that had two colors on it in general. That had gloves and boots that went well, a friend name Ferret designed it. Your suit mostly had a scheme that matched the color of Mars which is an iron oxide color. With some orange on it and dark black on it. Mostly having a belt around you holding your handguns. Than two wakizashi. Let's say your suit matched a certain mercenary that didn't want to join the boy band of the X-men and a hitman part of a Suicide Squad. But you know one thing for sure, you're more badass than those two. Than your mask was plain with those schemes with eye shaped holes. On your right eye was a red scope. Gadgets were even on your belt, that should be mentioned.

Grabbing your backpack with a sniper slinging it on your back. Than hid a knife in your boot just in case. Heading out you called a favorite Uber driver of yours, his name is Deshpande. Why was he your favorite? He never questioned why you had these weapons. Simply drove while making casual conversation.

And let me tell you, this guy was epic for an average joe! As you waited on the sidewalk to see the usual little green car pull up. Getting in the passenger seat of the car. "Hello Deshpande" you say at the scrawny man beside you in the driver seat.

"Hello Ms. Strike, how is your day?" He says as he begins to drive.

"Oh, you know the usual. New job, but today I just have to make a guy shit his pants and its over and done with." You casually say sitting back into the seat. "How was your day?"

"Well my girlfriend is great. She keeps pressuring me to get a haircut" he comments. To where you pull out your found watching the red dot that you've gotten on your target. "She thinks my hair is too long. But other than that things have been great!" He comments with a bright smile.

"Oh! So my advice worked from last time. Told you so" you lightly push him. "Your too cute to resist for her." You remarked to him proudly.

"I am very grateful for your assistance Ms. DS," he remarks back. "My girlfriend and I have been happy ever since I threatened my romantic rival. And I scared him away from ever contacting her," he says with a complete innocent smile. Yes, you gave him advice to terrorize the fellow away, but it worked in his favor. Not like either one of you cared though, not like anyone would stop you.

"I'm so proud of you. I feel like a parent, well I am one. But one towards my own son!" You say with your hand over your heart. A little tear slipped out from under your suit. Than he pulled up to two buildings with an alleyway in between each. "Okay, Deshpande, I need you to wait here. Because I'll need a ride back, and I will give you the money for being my getaway driver and all. Wait here, and do not panic. Be back in a sec!" You cheerfully say before exiting the car. Than climb up on the roof of one building. Sitting down you sit above the alleyway and take your sniper out. Than glance at your phone to see a transaction of around 1,000,000 added to it. With a smirk you relax and adjust your gun in the right position.

While waiting you begin to whistle a song like a bird casually. Than spot a group of men walking out into the alley. "Butcher would you just listen!?" One muscular says trailing after the guy with the long jacket and dark hair.

"Give me a good reason why!" He remarks back in a rough accent. You had to admit, he's cute. And than that accent was the icing on the cake! It was like magic to you. Good thing you didn't have to kill the guy. Beginning to aim you targeted his shoulder and steadied yourself at the target. As they continued on rambling your finger snaked to the trigger. Than at the open opportunity you shot and moved fast. Slinging the sniper around you and racing to the direction of Deshpande and using rope to go down to the ground. Cussing could be heard as you raced to the car.

Deshpande surprised at you holling ass into the car, once you got in stepped on it. Amused you laughed still hearing cussing from the target. But it didn't mean they didn't see you. Kimiko ended up on the roof where you were before, and searched the area. Hughie on the other hand was flipping out while Frenchie was trying to apply pressure on the wound. From the bullet hole it was deep but not deep enough for fatal damage. Blood was covering the shirt though and jacket.

MM raced to find any sign of the car he heard racing away. But that was merely only a couple of hours ago. Frenchie managed to get the bullet out and they cleaned Billy's wound. Billy on the other hand was furious, whoever this person it must've been from the cunts at Vought. Particularly Homelander sending him a message. He immediately was out on a hunt despite the protest of Hughie trying to reason with them. That perhaps Vought forced you to do this, Butcher thought otherwise. A inside job like this was a willing one, if they really wanted someone forced it would've been Black Noir who did it.

Nah, you agreed to it willingly for the money they gave you. And you must've known something about them, he wanted to find out. So when Billy a couple days later found out where he could find you, he took the opportunity. Now he figured whoever this guy was, he was gonna beat them up than get answers. It had to be a guy named Wade or Lloyd some douchebag name like that.

Walking in the bar it was partly empty but somewhat not. Light music played in the background as he walked in. Guys at the bar smoked and talked amongst themselves. Cigarettes filled the air as he began to glance around the area. For some reason he was expecting the guy to show up any time. As he leaned his side into the bar table a the bartender glanced at him. It was some tall guy with long hair and a beard but nerd looking. He also had glasses with somehow a nerdy style. "Give me a scotch will you?" He says to the bartender.

In the corner he spotted a woman. Wearing a dark orange fleece with white fur and long diem skirt and a plain cream fleece shirt could be seen. Than a pair of matching light brown boots. Her hair was (y/h/l) that was (y/h/c) it was a nice style on her, she rocked it better than most woman, well some looked great with it but she owned it in his eyes. Butcher watched as she threw darts at he board all without having to pause for a brief moment. Each one seen out of instinct and well lots of practice.

One last dart glided through the air and hit the center of the dart bored. Chugging the rest of your margarita and took the darts down before heading to bartable. "Instead of a margarita make it something different, surprise me." You remark to the bartender.

"I'm surprised your not a drunk by now" he comments.

"Ferret, my dear good friend, alcohol doesn't affect me and we know this. Not like it could kill my liver either" you remark. Taking the cigarette that was on your ear off of it.

"Right, sort of unfair though. Anyway drink coming up!" He says turning away to make a mixture. You put the cigarette in your mouth and dig in your pocket for the lighter. Than bring it to the tip of the orange strip of it. With a click you attempt to light to which it doesn't after a few tries.

"Im 'arghab fi altadakhiyn ealaa 'ayi hal" you mutter to yourself tossing the lighter in your pocket.

"Need a light, love?" You suddenly hear than turned to see the guy from a couple of days ago, Butcher. What a coincidence, especially since you admitted to yourself you found the target attractive. Did he know who you were? Probably not, no one ever really knows. Taking the cigarette out you keep it tucked between your fingers out to him. He lites it to which you bring it to your lips.

Puffing out a small cloud of smoke soon enough. "Thanks" you remark to him. "I don't really smoke often so I forget to refuel my lighter," you say before placed in front of was your drink. A nice from what it smelt like an New Zealand beer before tasting it.

"No problem," he remarks back to you. "What was that you were speaking? I don't recognize it." He comments facing forward.

"Arabic" you answer. "My adoptive father speaks it, he taught me that." You comment taking in a bit of the cigarette before bellowing the smoke out.

"Really? Must be a swell guy."

"He is for a sassy old man." You remark back in a chuckle. To which Butcher also chuckles at also.

"Billy Butcher, and you are?" He inquires to you.

"Margot Robbie" you remark with a smirk. Than see his facial expression full of disbelief at that. A laugh escapes you, than stop "kidding. Its (Y/n)," you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

"Lovely name" he remarks.

"I suppose." You remark back him. "So" you pause than bit your lip a bit "come here often?" A laugh croaked out the man with an accent.

"Not really, waiting for someone." He remarks back to you.

"Oh?" You say already knowing the answer. With your other hand snaking away and reach near your knife hidden. "May ask whom?" You inquire to him. Attempting to hide your grin and remain serious.

"Some guy who shot me. Found intel that he'll be here any second" he says not paying attention to your expression. Biting your tongue, not too hard to keep a laugh from breaking out. "Wait I until I punch the cunt in the face for the damage he's caused."

He thinks your a man? Why does everyone think your a man? Is this considered sexist or just someone boldly assuming without considering? Did you look guy with a suit on? How the heck was this happening? You'd think they'd thought they'd remember some hot chick like yourself. Oh well, it's easier to deceive them this way. "He must've really made it on your shit list for you want to find him." You comment still trying to hide your smirk from emerging.

"The cunt shot me and ran off" he retorts back. Cunt? He really favored that word apparently, but hey, you've been called worst. "Coward, that's what he wants. And he missed! What a lousy shot. What a bad hitman." He remarks back to which that clicked for you. Immediately snaking your blade out you held it against his throat. Taking in a big sip from your drink finishing it before placing it back down.

Keeping a grip on your knife and put your cigarette in the near ashtray. "I never miss" you darkly comment. "I meant to shoot your arm. To left where purposely missed a major artery an your broken. Could've given you a fatal injury to where a surgeon would have to repair that bone of yours." You explained slyly with a dark glint your eyes. Yeah, this guy was cute but you wouldn't let him down talk you. From how close you were without realizing it, Billy could smell your shampoo and conditioner. Milk and honey scented it over took you entirely making you smell sweet. "By the way, I'm actually a mercenary. I only do a few hitman jobs" you say. Turning your gaze to him to where your eyes met. "But it's not my fault you ended up on my naughty list" you comment.

"I knew you were a girl" he says with a grin. "Rough childhood, love? Oh right, you answered it already. Orphans always have problems, huh? What did mommy and daddy go out for milk?" He says trying to set you off, which your sure is the last thing he wanted to experience.

"They dropped me off at a fire station after trying to leave me high and dry at an hospital. A firetruck almost ran me over, and a homeless man almost peed on me" you remark.

"(Y/n)" Ferret says giving you a look. "If your gonna fight this guy take it outside this time, please? You have that crazed look in your eye, it makes me nervous. Its like for me seeing a bull head to the China shop" he comments. Casually just standing there behind the bartable.

"It'll be fine" you remark back. "I'll be gentle" you reply.

"You talkative, huh? If only I could sow your pretty little mouth shut." He remarks to you that makes you chuckle.

"They've already tried that with someone liked me" before clicking your tongue "it didn't go well." You comment with a light shrug of your shoulders.

"Highly doubt that" he remarks. "It should of been a field for them!" He grins to you.

"Perhaps if you like a sucky movies" you sarcastically say. "The movie was awful" you remark. "Anway, I have way better things to do than sit here and argue with you, Butcher. Lovely accent though!" Before wiping out a fuzzy pair of cuffs. "Don't judge me either" before cuffing him to the bartable with his left wrist. Stepping back off of the bar stool and dropping a few dollar bills for Ferret. "Don't you look lovely with fuzzy leopard printed cuffs!" You grin highly amused at this. To meet the grumpy face of the English accented man.

"You fucking cunt" he growls at you.

"I know honey, I'm great. Catch you on the flip side Billy" you tapped his nose with your finger. "Your adorable by the way" with a cocky smirk overtaking your face. Before walking out with a howl of laughter as you leave the bar. Oh, Billy wanted payback, but at the same time he was sort found you interesting despite the chatterbox in you.

___

When Billy tracked you down once more his blood was pumping. Excitement was sort of in him as at the thought of catching you. Despite most of the other members of the Boys thinking it was over between you two, they didn't know about Billy's slight interest in you. Part of him denied it but found it utterly thrilling the dynamic between you two. Sort of like messing with a forest fire, it was hot and it'll spread but he wanted to fan the flames. Hughie was confused when he saw the sudden spark in Butcher, but didn't figure it out what could cause it. Billy was quick to leave without a second word when he came across something on his laptop.

Soon enough he was dashing out with his heart pumping wildly. Going to the location given he was surprised to end up at some random place. An apartment building? What could you possibly be doing here? He would've head in until he saw a guy fly out. There you were a tight leather orange outfit that outlined your curves. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail and your mask was up resting on your head. In your hand was a pepperoni pizza with a lot of cheese on it. "You know Dick, ha I can never get over that nickname. Dick. Just so funny," you say almost taunting manner as you walk to the guy on the ground. "I've heard of stalkers before, but your something else. Kiddnapping some poor lady dog! You monster." You crouch in front of him still munching on the pizza. "All because she said no to getting in your car. Aww, what stupid things we do when were young" you grin. "Listen here bub, I'm not here to kill you, unless Kiu calls it. But what I will tell you, since she said no blasting your brains out, I'm gonna do one simple thing. Wanna know?" You inquire with a grin. Shaken the guy let's out a whimper at this side of you. You pull out a knife and direct it at his family jewels. "I will cut off your manhood if I had to, but since she was generous to you, I'll let you go." Moving the knife away the guy was about to run before directed it at his Adam apple. "But know this, if Kiu calls me again about a pest problem, I will not hold back next time. Got it?" You say to just than finish your pizza but still hold a threatening manner in your eyes. The guy nods before you stand up. "Scram, before I change my mind. And give the dog back!" Quickly seeing the guy sprint to car and drive away fast.

Pulling the mask back on you dust your glove off and begin to walk away. Billy was surprised by this, your a mercenary but not only that a person with a heart. From what it hes just seen you protected a young woman from a crazed stalker apparently. Did you do these things often? He shook his head at it though. Now was the time to get you. You weren't paying attention until you were tackled to the ground.

About to fight the person off your wrist were grabbed and slammed to the ground. Than met the cocky grin of Billy fucking Butcher. "Hello love" he remarks back.

Smirking you held back a giggle but if peeked out a bit. "Man, this sucks. I usually prefer being on top," you say with a cocky grin. Billy was quick to grab you by the throat and slam you against the wall. "Kinky." You comment with a shit eating grin. "Could you go a little harder, can't you daddy?" Fake moaning at this predicament you've ended up in.

"For such a pretty face you have its hard not want to punch your fucking lights out" he remarks back to you.

"Trust me, pretty sure you'd love to see my lights get brighter" you remark back.

"In your dreams" he remarks back. "How much did Vought pay you for your hit? Did they know you missed my head?" He inquires to you.

"They paid me a million. All for you to mind your own dang business" you remark back. Than noticed the rain gutter pipe. "Nothing more than that handsome" you grin at the idea entering your head.

"Really? That's it?" He says unimpressed.

"What did you expect from them? There trying to play nice. But hey, I didn't care at first about the job. Than they mentioned money, and well money a nice thing to have to pay bills, you know?" You say preparing legs. "Still glad I didn't have my bullets kiss your brain either, darling." With still a cocky grin wiped on your face. "I really appreciate this cat and mouse dynamic between us. It's sort too irresistible to resist, well like me."

"Really? I think someone like yourself more likely has a thing for being tied up." He says with a victorious grin at you as if he won. You bucked your hips which caught him off guard. Than you kneed him in the junk and punched him across the face. Your hair that was tied in a ponytail fell apart partly getting your face. Than you took a grappling hook and tied his hands to the rain gutter pipe out. Tying his hands to the back of his head to it enough to where he could sit at least. Laughing at this defeat you take his phone and snap a picture of him. "Hey! What do you think your doing?" He inquires to you. Than your quick to send it to recent contact which is marked as Hughie.

"And frankly, I think you have a thing for being tied up in particularly by me" you remark tossing the phone by his knee. Than kneel in front of him. "But who doesn't after all?" You shrugged before packing his cheek and turned on your heels and pull your mask on. "Can't wait until the next time you find me again!" You wave with the back of your hand. Laughing to yourself as you saw Deshpande pulling up in his car. "Hataa almarat alqauidmat, eazizi!" Billy couldn't believe he ended up in this situation again. To think he had you, but fell for your charm, but he couldn't help it, it was hypnotic. Like a drug, but he couldn't wait to chase you down again.

#the boys amazon #homelander #the boys #billy butcher #frenchie #mothers milk #the boys season 2 #black noir #billy butcher x reader #starlight x hughie #hughie campbell #x reader

[penwieldingdreamer]

Caring Makes You Weak - Part 2

Summary: Harvey Specter, best closer in New York City and Senior Partner at Pearson Hardman, the man most females in the city want, yet he himself doesn’t want commitment, because caring makes one weak. Enter Elle Howard, a woman he met a long time ago. Will she be the one to break down his walls and make him care?

Thanks again for beta'ing @fortheloveoffanfic

Warnings: Light cursing, an evil stepmother(?)

Words: 1544

Hardman was gone, the merger with Zane pushed away again but now Jessica wanted to merge with Edward Darby and Harvey wanted - needed to stop it one way or another.

And now the one person he'd had worked very hard to forget about waltzed back into his life because his associate had taken her case. He was never the committing type and he should have never agreed to help Mike with that pro Bono. It wasn't even his case to begin with, so what had changed?

Staring out his windows he thought back to the first time he had met her. How could one woman rattle his brain like that? First Dana Scott, then Zoe Lawford and now…now there was Elle Howard.

Harvey had met her while out celebrating a big win with Jessica and Louis. When he walked up to the bar, she stood there, the fabric of her dress tight around her curves as she waited for her drink.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, leaning one arm onto the bar while he looked the redhead up and down.

She turned a smile on her lips and a drink in her hand. "I believe I'm still good, thank you."

"Well, why don't we move on to the next one?" Harvey smirked at her, holding out his hand for introductions. "I'm Harvey Specter."

Rolling her eyes, she emptied her drink and grabbed the clutch laying on the bar top. "And I'm not interested." The redhead nodded her head and moved to walk around him.

The warmth in his belly was replaced by a coldness as if someone had doused him with ice water. It had been some time since a woman had brushed him off with not being interested but he clearly was and he needed to get to know her. "Please, just let me buy you a drink." he said, his hand lightly holding onto her arm.

Sighing, the redhead turned, her blue-green eyes narrowing in on the lawyer. "You don't like a woman saying no, do you?"

"I always win them over, so I'd say you should take my offer." Harvey told her, nodding at Louis and Jessica, who just left the bar.

Moving closer to him, the woman smiled, her eyes shining with mirth. "Well in that case, I expect you to work your magic to win this case Mister Lawyer."

"How did you know I'm a lawyer?" Harvey asked astonished, not that he could have hidden his job in a bar full of businessmen.

The redhead smirked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "It's not so hard to figure out, to be honest. So I'm looking forward to when you've won that case, too."

"Harvey!"

Blinking, the dark haired lawyer turned to face his associate. "What you got, Mike?"

"I've been calling you five minutes straight." the dark blond said, a smile on his face as Donna laughed at her cubicle. "What's got you so occupied?"

Shaking his head, Harvey held out his hand to look over the files. "Did you find some dirt on Tanner we can use?"

"Ah, not yet." Mike scratched the back of his neck, watching his boss carefully. "I wanted to ask Louis to help me with the financials, something doesn't seem right."

"Then get to it, I got something else to take care of." he got up from his chair, buttoning his jacket before he left his office. "I'll be back later, keep my schedule clear."

Donna and Mike looked after their boss before they faced each other. "What just happened?"

"I have no idea Junior, but he's been in a mood ever since you got back from Elle Howard last Friday." the secretary said, taking a sip from the latte Mike had brought her at lunch.

Once outside on the street level, Harvey waited for Ray to drive up. He needed to get a clear answer to the questions circling around his head. The black Lexus stopped in front of him and his driver got out, opening the door for him. "Where to, Harvey?"

"To the past." he sighed, giving his driver the address. The Indian man nodded his head, started the music and drove off.

"You want to talk about it, boss?" Ray had known his employer for nearly three years now and in all that time nothing had rattled him like the case he took on with Mike Ross. Harvey shook his head, watching the city fly by as the car made its way out of Manhattan and over to Williamsburg.

"Elle!"

Elle had to get the cries of her kids out of her head, so she decided to go grocery shopping and enjoy the walk over to the store not far from her apartment. Just when she got back, the redhead saw a black car parked on the street in front of her door. Sighing, she tightened her grip on the bags and ignored the sound of a car door opening.

She would recognize that voice anywhere. "What can I help you with, Harvey? Is there something good happening with the case?"

"Mike is still looking into it, but actually I'm here because I need to ask you something." the lawyer said moving closer to her. "Why did you really leave those years ago?"

Elle knew what he was getting into and she still had her secrets, things she couldn't have told him then and would definitely not tell him now. "You know it didn't work out for us."

"You still believe that?" he argued, pushing one hand into the pockets of his suit pants, clenching it with all his might. "I know that isn't the reason why, so stop that bullshit and tell me what made you rethink everything."

Shaking her head, the redhead walked around him, moving swiftly to the entrance of the apartment building she shared with Mike, but Harvey was faster. His hand held onto her arm, tight enough to stop her, but loose enough to not hurt her. Elle blinked her light eyes at the lawyer as she tried to form words without spilling what she had longed to tell him all those years ago. "We both wanted different things and you know it."

"Is that why you suddenly up and left New York? I asked Lucille and she told me you went to Boston. You didn't even think that you could have talked to me?"

Pulling away from him, she opened her mouth to answer him, but there was no sound coming out. Elle needed to get her head straightened out before she could really talk to Harvey and just when she knew what she would tell him, her phone rang again. The redhead pulled it out of her jeans' back pocket showing Charlie's name on the display. "I'm sorry, I have to take this."

"Mum" he sniffled and Elle immediately felt tears come to her own eyes. "Please come and get us. I hate it here."

She could hear his cries and the lawyer in front of her was totally forgotten. "Charlie, baby, what's going on?"

"I want to come back to you. I hate Sarah and she doesn't even want us there. She's mean to Izzy and me. Please, mommy, come and take us home."

Clasping a hand to her lips, Elle fought the urge to break down when she listened to her sweet boy cry because of her ex husband's new wife. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't come and take you home. You know that we still have to wait a bit."

"No! I wanna go home now. Izzy doesn't like it here, too." the young mother could hear her youngest crying next to her son and she knew she had to put an end to it.

Closing her eyes, Elle took a deep breath. "Charlie listen to me, I'm going to come over and we'll talk, okay."

"Okay, I guess." She knew her son wasn't satisfied with her answer, but there was no way she was giving Travis more power over her, than he already had.

Harvey had listened to the conversation and was trying to come up with possible scenarios to fight against Tanner, just so he didn't have to listen to the kids crying for their mother. "I'm coming with you, Tanner isn't going to be happy with you showing up at his house."

"I can do that on my own, I know Travis." Elle tried to argue with the lawyer but from the look he shot her, she knew she'd have to fight him tooth and nails. "I don't need your help to make sure my kids are fine."

Shaking his head, he took a step back from her. "It's either me or I'm sending Mike to Tanner's house and you know it's not going to be pretty." Harvey held up his phone, ready to dial his associate so he could make sure nothing was going wrong and would destroy the case.

"Okay." the redhead muttered, lowering her head in defeat, she trusted Mike, but not around her ex-husband, he could be petty and it would end up in bloodshed if something went wrong. Rolling her blue eyes, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Fine. But at least let me get the shopping inside."

#harvey specter x ofc #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter #suits imagine #suits usa #gabriel macht imagine #gabriel macht #original female character #fanfiction

[thehoneybuzz]

Chasing Baker

My Nana was my greatest adversary.

In an otherwise charmed life, Nana was an immovable force and the only legitimate challenger to my willpower. Not without the warmth one would expect from a grandmother, Nana could be sharp - like a sun-warmed pane of glass. Lesser hearts might have bent to me when I requested accommodation - but not Nana. Nana set a firm bedtime, insisted on efficient tooth brushing, and rather than negotiate with hair tangles, made short work of them in single, swift wrenches when brushing your hair. No nonsense. When you stayed with her - in one of two twin beds in a room made precisely for grandchildren - you often found yourself in bed with the lights out, with no real memory of having gotten there, swept away in the tide of your sheets. Nana was uncompromising, and no arena was more suited to our mutual stubbornness as the dinner table.

I grew up a notoriously picky eater. After a weekend at my Uncle Jerry's, my mom received a hardcover copy of "The Strong-Willed Child" from him as a gift. He had spanked me for not eating chicken nuggets. As evident by its title, the book was meant to coach my mother on parenting strategies for mitigating my innate obstinance. This would not be the only copy of the book my mother received. Though, I think she could have written one by the time I turned 4. I simply refused to eat the things I didn't like, and that was a long list.

A relative once applauded - clapped his hands together in joy- upon learning that I had graduated from having the crusts cut off my bread to full-blown sandwich eating. The peanut butter and honey sandwich was my signature dish and an absolute staple. I'd like to say I've grown out of it - and I've certainly grown having tried llama steak in Peru, lamb heart at the table of a Lebanese family, and Greenland shark in an Icelandic cafe - but it took me a long time to let go of my habits and permit myself to try, and it took some coaxing. My preferences ran deep.

My diet from ages six through eleven included Eggo waffles, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, an assortment of cereals, a handful of specific fruits and vegetables, and the occasional steak when mom thought my iron was low. My mom - on the advice of a pediatrician who told her that if she force-fed me, I'd develop an eating disorder - catered to this preference. Nana did not. They must have been seeing different pediatricians.

Nana took the clear your plate approach - The approach driven by reward and consequence. Finish your plate, cookies delivered. Fail to try, become hungry and hungrier still as dessert passes you by. I took to swallowing food whole, and my mom took to sending me with granola bars on visitations. She'd line the interior of my suitcase like we were smuggling drugs. I'll admit it was an unusual form of contraband, but the measure seemed necessary in a divorced child's duplicitous world. What my mom saw as nourishment, my Dad might see as undermined parenting strategy even under the best of circumstances - which they often weren't. I was hungry, so decided it best to keep things a secret and wrappers out of the trash.

Despite Nana's apparent best efforts, I avoided the eating disorder. Thanks to my mom, I avoided most foods until my early 20s. I don't know who was right. What I know for certain is that I was loved.

When I sat down with Nana after my trip to Mt. Baker, she clutched her heart as she said. "Ally - to think about you as this little girl - and that you would only eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches - to think of you climbing mountains…" she shakes her head, "… well I just can't believe it."

I started to laugh and asked her, "Want to know the best part?"

She nodded, smile in her eyes, full of that sunny warmth - playful and kaleidoscopic.

"I ate peanut butter and honey sandwiches up and down the side of that mountain, Nana," I told her, laughing, and then we laughed together. Growing up is fun, I thought, especially in moments like this.

Laughing with your grandmother is a gift you receive in exchange for time, and it is a beautiful gift indeed. Here is a woman who bathed you, clothed you, fed you - and by the time you're old enough to understand the magnitude of the life she held before all that, she is often gone. I'm lucky to have this time. Nana is 90 years old now, and my mother's mother passed at 74. I never got to have the conversations I wanted to have with my grandmother, who died. To ask her questions like, 'Who were you?' 'What lifetimes made up the love you gave so effortlessly away?'

There is something about mountain climbing that makes you consider those kinds of questions in real-time. There is something about mountain climbing that makes you feel as if you are in the process of 'becoming.' So when, at the parking lot of Grandy Creek Grocery, I met my fellow climbers and our guides - there was a feeling of anticipation and nervousness about who I'd be sharing that story with. Dropping me off, my mom described it like the first day of kindergarten. The first person I met was Sharon.

I had been worried about Sharon. Weeks before, on the pre-trip Zoom call, she stood out from the digital crowd as the most visibly senior person there. Sharon did not look old - she looked undoubtedly the oldest. I think this is an important distinction - particularly to Sharon. I remember thinking - "I hope she is not on my trip because I'm worried she will show me down." A very judgmental thought and the universe saw to its reckoning. Sharon surprised the hell out of me.

She paced the parking lot, and I jumped out of my rig to greet her. We quickly began commiserating. Baker would be her first mountain. I had Mount St. Helens under my belt, but it's not much in the way of experience. We talked about our training plan, recounting long drives to taller places. Sharon was from Wisconsin, and she had to drive 45 minutes to get to peaks at 3,000 - the same as me in Eastern Washington. We had a lot in common. Where I ran, she had been hiking with weight and jogging. Sharon wasn't afraid of hard work. On our drive to the trailhead, I learned that she had just lost 75 pounds last year. I learned later that when Sharon signed up for this climb, she hadn't told anyone in her family she was doing it. She was 62 years old and had never once traveled alone. What on earth possessed her to climb a mountain? I'd be afraid of that question, too.

Sharon eventually fessed up to her family and made the trip official. That's how we found ourselves on the side of a mountain together. I'm embarrassed to have been so fundamentally wrong - but my confession is not without meaning, and I learned an important lesson. Never underestimate a Sharon.

When Melissa, our guide, described Mt. Baker for the first time, she called it by its indigenous name, Komo Kulshan. She then gave us its epithet - "The Great White Watcher." Having now met Kulshan face to face, I can tell you that's precisely how he feels. The summit looms as you navigate through the trees. Stoic in the face of the wilderness that surrounds him. Ice cold, he waits. In the Lummi language, he's called 'white sentinel.' He is persistent, vigilant, and watching.

I focused my nervous energy on preparing to meet this mountain by learning what I could about him. I learned that Mt. Baker is 10,781 feet tall, an active volcano, and the second most glaciated mountain in the continental united states (Rainier's got it beat, and you don't count Alaska). It's a formidable mountain, known - as nearly all alpine environments are - for its quickly changing conditions and the perils of its geology. This all, somehow, frightened me less than the thought of meeting Melissa Arnot-Reid. Her legend loomed not in the Cascades - where only a single peak resides above the threshold of 14,000 feet by which the Rockies measure their formidable "fourteeners." Melissa's legend loomed as large as Everest, on who's summit she has been six times - the only American woman to summit without the use of supplemental oxygen and survive. 29,032 feet. Melissa was someone I wanted to learn from, and I was scared shitless of her by reputation.

Suffering a bit of social awkwardness around celebrities, I prepared to meet Melissa by seeking to learn nothing about her at all. The antithesis of my mountain strategy - I told myself our experience would be what it was when we met on the mountain. My job was to learn - to ask my questions courageously - and be vulnerable and bold in seeking truth. I spent a fair bit of time wondering if she might be an ass hole, too. The age-old adage, "don't meet your heroes," drifted in and out of my mind.

In the last 15 minutes of our drive to Grandy's, my mom started reading Melissa's Wikipedia page aloud to me as I navigated the road, undoing months of my concerted preparation. I let her continue, greedy for information. "It says she trains by depriving herself of things - that she'll go without food and water."

"Probably a good idea if you're ever going to be stuck on the side of a mountain without it," I told her. I braced myself for a response. In the past few months, my mother had a growing sensitivity around topics that might suggest I could die on the side of a mountain. Admitting, so blatantly, that mountain climbing was a dangerous sport left me vulnerable to excessive mothering accompanied by exclamations of "Don't you dare!" Instead, my mom sort of nodded and continued, "I'm surprised her baby came out healthy."

My brow furrowed. I hated my mother for saying it. I had avoided a lecture from the mother of the mountaineer but failed to account for the mother of the daughter aged-almost-thirty. My uterus is a topic of conversation around my mother's table. Apparently, so was Melissas. Not wanting to discuss either, I let my mother's comment go unchecked as she continued to list accomplishments. "This article says she's focused on business, not emotions. That she is an incredible problem-solver." Now her reports felt more like cheating - it felt like an unfair advantage to meet someone armed with publicly available information about them. When you Google "Allyson Tanzer," you won't find much about my disposition under pressure. I told my mom it was time to focus and turned up the music.

When we parked, and I went to introduce myself to Melissa, three things happened. As I introduced myself, she first quickly let me know that she would not be giving out hugs due to the pandemic. Then, taking my hand in a firm grip, Melissa detailed that she and our other guide, Adrienne, had critical guide business to discuss and would be with us in a moment. She reported being thrilled to be meeting us as she quickly dropped my hand. Within thirty seconds, I was apologizing profusely and backing my way into the grocery. What can I say - first time formally climbing mountains, and I wasn't sure of the protocol. I fiddled with a bag of Cheetohs and continued to hope that she wasn't just an ass hole.

I went to the bathroom for something to do and remembered what my mother said. Task-oriented. I figured Melissa probably didn't hate me, after all. Despite my earlier misgivings, I was grateful to know a bit about her character, regardless of how 'honestly' that information was obtained. Thanks, Mom.

Our climb began. We left Grandy's in a caravan and parked near 3000' at the winter routes trailhead. On the first day, you ascend to 6000' and establish camp. You carry about 40 pounds, walking 1 mile and about 1000 vertical feet per hour, stopping for 15-minute breaks in those intervals. Conditions are warm, which means you're doing something the mountaineers call "post-holing" - ramming deep holes (as if for a fence post) into the ground as you step through snow that's washed out underneath. It's slow-going and rigorous. An hour and a half in, Melissa reports that we're standing in the location where she usually takes the first break. Unseasonably warm weather with a heavy snow accumulation has made for an exciting start.

You walk along a canyon ridge formed by a retreating glacier. You realize that time here is not measured in the same cadence that it's known to you. Mountains measure time in millennium, not decades. The formations of rock are carved by years, not minutes. The ground holds a history you can't conceive of - an ancient history of rock and ice. You are constantly struck by feeling small both physically and in your very chronology. I spent the first day happily in awe.

At camp, you maintain - guides (and playfully designated junior guides), boil snow, establish a base, dig a toilet. You assess whether or not you need to poop in a bag and carry it down the mountain with you as you try - for the first time - a rehydrated meal claiming to be chili Mac and cheese. Melissa teaches us how to walk on rope over a glacier. I try to mimic her knots. She redefines your concept of efficiency - breathlessly describing a packing order that accounts for calorie intake, warmth requirements and weight distribution - Every contingency considered. When I win the Ice Ax Rodeo by landing my thrown ax in a particular configuration - all is right in the world. Melissa is a drill sergeant giving instruction. She outlines the next minute - next five minutes - next hour - next day.

Her matter-of-fact nature reminds me of something. When I gave my parents a ride in an airplane for the first time with me as the pilot in command, I provided them near the same briefing as we were parked on the ramp. It ended dramatically with, "And if anything should happen, you have to exit the aircraft first in the following fashion." At which point I launched myself from the plane. I wanted them to be prepared to fight their instincts to protect me. I’m the only pilot on board - and my job is to protect my passengers, no exceptions. They both described a sense of foreboding and peace at the demonstration. It’s precisely how I felt when Melissa explained how she would be rescuing herself from a crevasse. “If you fall, I get you out. If I fall, I get myself out, but I need your help as an anchor to do so.” She took the approach of coaching us in only what we needed for the next challenge. We would learn crevasse rescue on a need to know basis. At Grandy’s, she told us to expect 48 hours of endurance. At camp, we’re at hour 9. She painted a picture of the following day.

"We'll begin between 11, and 2 am. Expect switchbacks up the glacier, a series of flats, and gains over the next hour. In 3.5 miles, we'll gain an additional 2000 feet - meandering a path through the glacier's crevasses, and it will gradually become steeper over time. About 1.5 miles to the summit, we'll hit the Easton glacier culminating in the Roman Wall. Then, because God has a sense of humor, you have a long flat walk to the summit after the steepest portion. All said it will take us between 5-7 hours to the top."

Frankly, it was just about as simple as that.

My eyes opened at 11:50 pm to the sound of movement outside the tent. Melissa had coached us here, too. "You may not be sleeping," she told us as we readied for 'lights out.' Days from the summer solstice, the sun burned brightly above us at 7 pm. "Remember that you don't need sleep; you need rest. That's what you're getting here at camp. You're horizontal; your feet are out of your boots. Close your eyes, and know you're getting what you need." Felt like a lie, but sure enough, with two hours of sleep, I couldn't describe myself as tired.

I did, however, feel cold. Chilly night temperatures had crept into our tent, and dressing for the day was arduous. I knew to keep my clothes in my sleeping bag. It was a trick I learned from a friend made trekking in the Andes for dressing in the cold. I knew to shorten my trekking poles while climbing, thanks to my guide on that same trek. I'd be leaving my trekking poles behind today, though. Ice axes only. We divide into rope teams. The race begins, but there's no starting pistol - only wind.

Fifteen minutes into our climb and we're struggling to find the rhythm. I'm still shaking the bleariness of the cold. The rope between climbers takes on an interesting dynamic. While it connects you to your fellow climber, it also isolates you from them. You have to maintain a certain distance away from one another while maintaining the same pace. It's a dance with crampons on in glacial ice - a delicate dance indeed - and it's where climbing feels like a team sport. You're all in it together.

Voices rang out in sequence like a game of telephone - one of our team would need to climb down. We said short goodbyes and waited as Adrienne (guide) descended with climber to camp. We were lucky - we hadn’t been climbing long which meant Adrienne could climb down and back to rejoin her rope. Guide redundancy is a safety net when groups of climbers work together.

Darkness continued. We continued. As you persist, darkness seems to persist along with you. In the first hour, it grows heavy. Your world begins and ends at the light of your headlamp, and that's where you find it—your rhythm. Crampons crunching, breath steady, and the gentle swish of your layers create a sort of timpani, a medley of percussion sounds. Clink, brush, crunch, and clink, brush, crunch, as ax bites ice, the movement of your clothes, and the toe of your boot kicks crampon into snow propelling you forward. There isn't much to think about in this grinding meditation. You're grounded in tugs from ahead or behind you as you march, slowly up. You can count steps, miles, feet of elevation - whatever keeps you moving. Whatever keeps you going up.

Moments before sunrise, we would lose another on our team. I listened to Melissa coach her. "What we're headed to is going to be harder than what we've just done. If how you are feeling is taking away from your ability to focus on your next step - I can only tell you that it's not going to get easier from here." That's when I saw the decision on her face. Another round of goodbyes - this one a bit more somber. She had worked so hard.

The decision to descend is a difficult one, but it’s one of the most important you can make. There are steep consequences to being in over your head in a place so remote. The summit is a siren, beware. Melissa - aware of the remaining teams intention to summit - advised us to plug our ears as she told the descending climber the Sherpa belief that a mountain won't let you summit for the first time if it likes you. Mountains bring you back. Further, she coached, the decision to go down can lift an entire team's chance of success if you feel you're a liability. Recognizing yourself and your limitations truthfully is a mountain in itself. That's the summit this person made in her decision to descend.

Like a good Agatha Christie novel, our list of characters dwindled. We added layers and continued - five of the original eight. Melissa was right, again. After we lost the second climber, our ascent became a proper climb. From that point forward, if anyone decided to turn around - we would all have to. There was only one remaining guide, and she had to protect all her climbers, no exceptions - me in the cockpit all over again.

She didn't show it, but 62-year-old Sharon was genuinely frightened. She had realized the same thing I did. If she didn't make it - no one would. Sharon kept climbing. Remember when I was worried she would slow me down?

When the sun starts to rise, everything begins to feel possible again. I don't mean to say that things were hopeless, just that with the sun comes energy and a sense of renewal. Color returns to the landscape, and you can begin to be able to measure your progress concretely. The mountain casts a shadow across the earth, stretching miles. You can't believe that you are contained within that shadow, on the face of such a giant who stands so impossibly tall. Melissa stood there, and I took her picture.

She had turned out to be not an ass hole at all. Where I sought to be her student, she aspired to teach - at once brilliant and kind. Her stride - her sport - a work of art. The precise art of what she calls slow, uphill walking. Her shadow and the shadow of the mountain impressed upon me the power of legends.

As the Roman Wall came into view - I knew we had it. We short rope in and make one last push. If Mt. Baker is a joke from God, the ending of the Roman Wall is its punchline.

Atop the incline awaits a long, easy walk to a haystack peak some few hundred yards in the distance. I was bubbling with emotion as my heart rate settled and the view became clear. There wasn't much difference between where we stood and where we were going. We dropped our packs, unroped, and ran up the summit. I was in tears.

Melissa broke her no-hugs-in-the-pandemic rule and celebrated us each in turn. I snapped countless photos and spent each frozen moment smiling. I pulled Melissa and Sharon in close. I had felt something on my heart and only needed a moment's bravery to share it.

I started awkwardly.

"I'd like to say something to you and Sharon," I muttered, barely audible over the wind, as I tugged on Melissa's sleeve. I grabbed Sharon's arm and pulled her in too. I don't remember the exact thing I said or the exact way in which I said it. I remember pausing to make sure I got it right and wondering for a long time if I managed to do so.

I told them that I had come to the mountain expecting to be impressed by one person. Melissa promised an impressive education - on which she delivered. She is of that rare quality - the kind who’s presence improves you. I came to Baker with that expectation, I confessed, I expected Melissa. I paused before telling Sharon, her gloved hand in mine, “You?” I laughed nervously. “I wasn’t expecting. A 62-year-old woman….” I nodded back to Melissa, “And you, the mother of a 3-year-old…” I didn’t want to get this wrong. “You are two people who our society labels and confines. Yet, here you are - on top of a mountain. I have to tell you….” I was choked up in earnest here and struggled to continue.

"It matters.” I said. “What you do matters. It matters to have an example of what is possible. Both of you have provided that example to me and women like me. Thank you." I sobbed. "I am so grateful for it and grateful for you." Melissa smothered me in her jacket as she embraced me, once again, in a hug. Pandemic be damned. My tears froze. While I expected a "There's no crying in mountaineering" a la Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own (it was a climb of mostly women, after all) the admonishment never came.

Sharon grabbed hold of me next and we shared the alpine view. Before I knew it, we were the last two on the summit. The wind howled a steady cheer. Celebrations concluded, it was time to leave. I stayed for just a moment longer, watching Sharon as she left. They don't make anything more beautiful than a mountain, and it's a view worth savoring. I descended, joyfully, to my team.

I didn't bury Jake up there. In Ashes to Ashes, I told the story of taking my old farm dog's remains to the top of my first volcano. He's not so much a good luck charm as he is an omen of protection. I don't need luck as much as I need safety, and he serves his duty well. Jake stayed with me through our descent to camp. I needed a little protection coming down off the Roman Wall, I thought. I wanted him close until we were off the glacier. He lays now at the foot of my tent—a very good place for a very good dog.

There's a natural mindfulness to climbing. I often find myself living in the present step - not thinking about the route that lies below. You forget in moments that the trip up is accompanied by an equally long and perilous journey down. From the summit, your journey is far from over. Yet, time flies by even as you stop to admire the steam vents. The rainbow that surrounds the sun refracts joy and color the same.

You reach camp, celebrate, pack up. Miles and thousands of feet remain even from there. That's when you realize it's ending and when I realized I didn't want it to end.

We spent the next few miles getting to know each other in earnest, savoring time and mountain views, chatting in the way of long-form hikers - about the nature of things and through storytelling. Melissa regaled us with vulnerable truths and comedic parables. We laughed. I kept sipping at the wells of knowledge around me, drinking in the moments. Laughter distracted from hunger, from wet feet, and from the dull and dim realization that all good things must come to an end. We made our way to the bottom of the mountain. Just like that - we say goodbye.

Sharon drove me back to Grandy's. We chitter like school girls - adrenaline and nostalgia collide in our post-climb delirium. We talk about the future. I realize that we are good friends. I am humbled by just how wrong a person can be to believe something about someone for no good reason.

Mom picks me up, and with her embrace my adventure is over. I’ve come full circle - safe and sound, parked in the lot of Grandy Creek Grocery.

Melissa found us there and knocked on our window.

"Your daughter is really special. The MOST special,” my hero and friend told my mom. Mom beamed with a special pride reserved exclusively for mothers of strong-willed daughters. I had been misreading things - the adventure had only just begun.

There are eight years between Melissa and I. I’m not sure I’ll be chasing Everest in that time, but I know I won’t be finished. I’ve got thirty-three years to catch Sharon at 62. In the mountain blink of sixty-one years, I’ll be as old as my Nana and I hope at least half as wise. Good thing there are so many years - for there is so much left to climb.

#mountaineering #mountains #travel #adventure #adventurephotography #traveling #travelblogpost #mountainclimbing #mt baker

[kaasknot]

Rexsoka babyyyyy

is this in reference to the "would you ever write" meme? if so, then yes... ish.

i do have an accidental pregnancy rexsoka wip, but it's buried extremely far down my prioritized wip list. it's also many years old and probs horrifically ooc.

basically the idea was rex and ahsoka made a very reasonable assumption that, given they were different species and also he shot blanks, they probably didn’t need protection. FOOLS! as soon as the pregnancy gets found out ahsoka is sent back to the temple, and... iirc she voluntarily chooses to leave the order? can't remember, tbh. here, have a snippet, since odds are bad i'll finish it this century:

Ahsoka paced, patting Dawoor’s back as he burbled against her shoulder. The moldy little hotel room was in the mid levels of Coruscant, near enough to a couple clone bars that Ahsoka suspected she knew what Anakin was trying to do. She kept herself from thinking about it, kept herself even from hoping. Familiar footsteps came down the hall, and she didn't dare hope; a tentative knock at the door, and her breath caught. But it wasn't until the door cracked open and Rex’s Force signature spilled into the room that she actually believed it was happening.

“Ahsoka..?” he breathed, his expression cracking from its hard glower. He looked tired, her Rex did, looking out of place in his borrowed civvies; he looked weary in a way that had nothing to do with the body. He felt it, too—but as he stepped in the room, that feeling disappeared, swallowed in a rush of light that felt like a sun rising.

“Rex,” she answered, breathless.

“Kriffing hells, Ahsoka—”

The door clicked shut and then his arms were around her, his smell filling her nose, the vibration of his body thrumming in her montrals, his mere existence pressing against hers in the Force—

Dawoor, caught between them, let out a disapproving squawk. Rex froze against her. Ahsoka felt herself smiling so hard she thought her face might break. She shifted Dawoor over, so he could see his father; he peered up at Rex with those beautiful brown eyes and Ahsoka couldn't speak at the look of desperate hope on Rex’s face. He glanced up at her. She nodded.

“Rex, I'd like you to meet your son, Dawoor.”

It took a moment, but when it did, Rex’s expression of wonder slid into horror. “Ahsoka, please tell me you didn't name our child ‘Stinky’.”

She half-giggled, high emotions getting the better of her, and his incredulous expression brought it to a full laugh. “It's a Togruta tradition,” she explained. “We name our babies horrible little nicknames, so that evil spirits can’t see how precious they are and steal them away.”

Rex couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from the blue-swaddled shape in her arms. “A Togruta tradition,” he echoed quietly. He looked up at her. ��But a Mando’a name.”

“He’s both of us,” Ahsoka replied. She wasn't sure how to explain the agonies she had gone through, in trying to decide what to name their son. It was a conversation for another day, if they ever got one. She cleared the lump out of her throat. “When he's thirteen you can help him change it to something better.” She held Dawoor out to him.

Rex took the bundle of blankets and baby as though he were handling a bomb that could go off at any moment, one that he didn't dare drop. His hands were uncertain; she had to rearrange them to support Dawoor’s head. When he was settled, Rex fell silent, staring down at him, his eyes wide and his expression gutted in a way that left Ahsoka aching. Dawoor looked so small in his arms, but so right. Their Force signatures mingled, throwing tremulous tendrils of light into the grimy tip of a room, and it was so beautiful, so harmonious and true—and so far from what she might have hoped, that the father of her child would be forced to meet his son in the shadows like a criminal on the run—that Ahsoka found herself tearing up at the bittersweetness of it.

Rex took a breath, the sound hitched and ragged; he looked up at her, and his cheeks shone wet in the neon lights of the bar pouring through the window. “My son,” he said, with a wobbly, crooked smile. He gave a small huff of what might have been laughter. “Never thought I’d…” He trailed off, and he looked back at Dawoor, drawing him infinitesimally closer against his chest. “My son.” His smile turned down and his shoulders hunched, and Ahsoka stepped up to him, cupping one hand beneath his where it supported Dawoor and bringing the other to rest against his face.

“Don't think about that right now,” she said. “Let’s keep it waiting as long as possible.” She drew him down and went up on her toes to rest her forehead against his. “Let’s just be us.”

“Okay,” he said, beyond words.

#askbox #anon #rexsoka

[odyssey-system]

Enchanted: Part of Your World #1

"Can you do me a favor, sweetheart?"

Fiona Seville was on the phone with her father Dave as she sat on the couch in her apartment. Her frizzy hair was a slight mess as she adjusted her legs. "Y-Yeah, of course, Dad."

She could hear him sigh on the other end of the phone, along with a cough. "I was supposed to go to a benefit masquerade ball tomorrow night. The one that I go to every year."

"Right! The one for state arts programs?"

"That's right. Well... I can't make it this year. I ended up with bronchitis and your brothers have to take care of me at home."

Fiona frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad..."

"It's alright. I was just wondering, since you were closer, could you make the donation in my place at the ball?"

She bit her lip. She was not typically a person to deal with large crowds, but for the only parent in her life, she'd take a leap of faith. "O-Okay but if I make the donation for you, can you transfer me replacement money after?"

"Of course, sweetheart. You have my word."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After a few phone calls with her agent, Ethan Blake, Fiona was able to donate money, book a ride and acquire an outfit for the night. She'd spent the past few days looking around for pop culture tidbits she might have missed over the past week or so. She practiced talking to people in the mirror, and she arranged to get out an hour early from work that day.

So now, here she was, sitting in the front seat of a Dryve car in a stunning silver ballgown made by one of Ethan's friends, Addison Sinclair. The driver wasn't much for conversation, preferring to listen to the radio, but she didn't mind.

Eventually, the car pulled up to the designated drop-off point for the masquerade in front of the Sheridan Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, a line of paparazzi along the velvet roped red carpet. Fiona put on her mask and took a deep breath.

Showtime.

Fiona made her way out into the stream of flashing lights, walking toward the start of the red carpet. She only recognized one face in the line of paparazzi: Ana de Luca of Trend Magazine, one of her favorites. She put on her sweetest smile as she heard murmurs about how no one knew who she was, and she prepared for the barrage of questions with a nervous glimmer in her eyes.

Surprisingly, none of them approached her but she was asked to pose for pictures, to which she obliged.

What mattered more to her was getting inside after speaking to both of the hotel's front door bouncers and the bellhop, who helped her find the ballroom in which most of the event was held.

The ballroom was massive, much more extravagant and intimidating than Fiona could have ever imagined. It felt like she was walking around in a fish tank full of people.

It terrified her.

"This place is pretty cool, isn't it?" A young man in his early twenties asked her confidently. "Definitely better than my prom."

Fiona smiled, the conversation alleviating some of her nerves. "Yeah, it's beautiful in here."

"Is this your first time going to this?"

"Yeah."

The man gave an understanding smile. "Me too. I'm Chadley."

"I'm Fiona." She fixed her hair and her mask, shifting her remaining nerves into movement.

Chadley smiled. "Do you want to go get something to drink?"

Fiona nodded back at him. "I'd like that."

The two made their way over to a table with refreshments, Chadley immediately going over to the flutes of champagne. "Bubbly?"

"No thanks." She tried looking for other drinks but only ended up finding water on the table. She grabbed a glass and a reusable straw kit, following Chadley.

"How'd you get an invite to this party? Did you have to pass some initiation or something?"

Fiona laughed. "No. Why, did you?"

"Yeah, kind of! Mr. Groot said that I needed to start sharing my brain cells with my kind and jump into a canyon with no braces for my teeth." He said it with nonchalance, making Fiona recoil a little. His eyes widened. "No no, it's okay! My agent Ethan told me that it was his way of saying I needed to venture out of my comfort zone or something.

She sighed in relief. "This Groot guy might need to find a better way to come across with what he's saying correctly... But at least you have Ethan. He's my agent too."

"Oh sweet! He always has the best suits."

Fiona could think of a few other outstanding qualities about Ethan that would rank higher, but she did have to give Chadley that. "What do you do?"

"I'm a film actor. What about you?"

"Oh! Um..." Fiona's cheeks tinged pink slightly. "I'm a barista but I do have this character acting gig. I do birthday parties and stuff."

"That's cool! Do you like it?"

"Yeah! It's fun to make characters on your own that you can help people with, you know?"

"Hell yeah! So are you working during this party then?"

She shook her head. "No, my dad's a composer. He comes here every year, but he got sick and couldn't make it this time. He wanted me to make a donation this year for him, and I'd do anything for my dad."

"I get you. I'm gonna go talk to more people but-" He took a napkin and wrote down a set of digits. "Here's my cell phone number if you need something. I've gone to some stuff like this, I can help you."

Fiona smiled warmly. "You're so sweet, Chadley! I appreciate this, thank you."

"No worries, Fiona! Hope I see you around." He went off into another portion of the ballroom.

Afte watching him go and making sure he was alright, Fiona went to go sit next to the stage. It was sparsely used at the moment, a few musicians tuning and doing mic checks. She took a few minutes to browse her Pictagram feed idly, pausing on a post by the Wilshere siblings when she noticed something familiar about the backdrop.

"Excuse me." A tall male with shoulder-length hair and a beard said as he approached, gentle and calm with his security badge visible on his belt. "I need you to not block the stairs, ma'am."

Fiona blushed and glanced at the stairs. "Sorry, sir..."

"It's okay. Some of the acts are just ready to sound check."

"Right, of course." She followed him out of the way before spotting a pair of blondes approaching the stage: the Wilshere twins.

Fiona was in awe.

The male of the pair nodded to the security guard. "Thank you, Damien." He turned to Fiona. "Sorry for making you find a new wallflower spot. We just don't want anyone to get hurt, especially a charming young thing like you."

"Arthur! Don't tease the poor girl!" His sister strode over and gave a wide, warm smile. "Sorry about him." She took Fiona's hands. "You seem overwhelmed, love. Are you alright?"

Starstruck but true to Avery's observation, Fiona bit her lip. "I'm not used to navigating parties like this."

"I understand. These things can make a girl feel so small in a world so big, especially for your first time at one of these parties." She squeezes her hands. "There's a few different rooms next to the ballroom being rented out for the ball as well. Those might help you find a smaller group of people around here."

"Avery? Your turn for sound check," her brother called out.

The blonde sighed. "I have to go. But you've got this. I believe in you."

Fiona watched Avery go onto the stage, still anxious but more hopeful than before. She gave both her and Arthur a wave before walking around the ball a bit more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After half an hour of roaming all of the other rooms, Fiona found herself in one that resembled a casino. It was a bit smaller than the other rooms, which helped her anxiety, but it felt very much like a boys' club in there with the amount of older men. Several men stared at her as she walked in, appraising her like jewelry. Or worse. She did her best to not give them any ideas or pay them any mind.

Unsatisfied playing games with any of the older men, she made her way over to the bar that was for the most part unoccupied. She sat on the other end of the bar, ordering a coffee instead of alcohol because of her need to have a clear head to survive the night.

When her coffee arrived, the waitress also placed a notebook in front of her, a pen tied to the spiral. She opened it cautiously, seeing neat handwriting on the first page.

Are you alright?

Fiona looked up from her spot and noticed the only other patron at the bar: a younger male but still considerably older than her, nursing a glass of scotch in his hand. His eyes met hers, and he smiled genuinely back at her. She pointed to him and then down at the notebook. He nodded in response. She quickly wrote a response after grabbing a pen from her purse:

Yeah. My first time at one of these events. It's a little scary.

She slid the notebook over to him so the waitress didn't have to do it. She watched him write, moving his hand in a gentle and elegant fashion, before he slid it back to her.

I understand. I didn't want to scare you and add to that. Do you want to sit with me?

Fiona took a moment to collect her thoughts before sliding her purse onto her shoulder. She collected the notebook and her coffee, walking over to sit next to him. "Sorry. I-I just figured if my answer was yes, I didn't want to be redundant.

He nodded in reply. "That's alright. I'm Thomas, by the way."

She smiled. "I'm Fiona."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

Thomas crossed his legs, right over left. "So what got you to come out here tonight, Fiona?"

"I-I came for my dad. He normally comes down here but he's sick this year."

"What's your last name?"

"Seville."

The name seemed to click in Thomas's head. "Ah yes, I believe I'm somewhat familiar. Dave's his name, right?"

"Y-Yeah."

"I remember him. We've met in passing before, I believe. The most I know is that he's a composer. Are you in the music industry as well?"

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break, it's in a million pieces

Fiona shook her head. "Not exactly. I'm a barista most days, but I also do children's birthdays and other stuff like that as a costume actor. Sometimes it involves singing, but it's not the bread and butter of what I do."

Thomas smiled. "Impressive. You definitely achieve the Disney princess aesthetic tonight."

She blushed. "Thank you. You look nice too."

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

The two could hear the bartender turn on the television, and a picture of Thomas without a mask on flashed across the screen as part of a television tabloid, along with his full name.

Mortified, Thomas partly covered his face with his hand.

Fiona looked at him sympathetically, reaching for his empty hand. "Is everything okay?"

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"I... I have a problem with fangirls sometimes." He held her hand gently. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "D-Don't be." She looked around. "In all fairness, half of the people here look like you because of the masks and everything."

He uncovered his face. "You're not even a little starstruck at me?"

Fiona smiled and shook her head again. "I-I mean, I *do* know who you are now. But... I mostly look at Trend and music industry magazines, so I don't get your exposure a lot."

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I can change everything About me to fit in

Thomas took another sip of his scotch, contemplating her words. "Well... What is your impression of me, then?"

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I-I think you seem like a hard worker. You have ambitions that aren't always in the realm of reality, but you try. And you make every effort to keep your private life and your work separate. You think art is a second life in and of itself."

Thomas sat silent for a moment, stunned. "And how did you manage to decipher all of that?"

Fiona's smile hinted at a hidden laughter. "You don't seem like you've sold your soul to any towel rack of a tabloid, Mr. Hunt."

He knew the game she was playing now. She seemed to warm up to him quickly, something that could hurt them both if they weren't careful.

But the angle she was going for now? Two could play at that game.

Hush, when no one is around, my dear You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

"You'd think correctly, Ms. Seville," he said with a regal and teasing side-smirk. "However, seems it's my turn to pick your brain."

Fiona flushed, almost retreating from the teasing as her fingers on one hand started playing with the edges of her frizzy hair. "G-Go ahead."

Thomas was gentle as he shifted on the barstool, taking a full look at her. "You are definitely in touch with your inner child in a way I don't see often around here. Not necessarily the innocence, but you tap into that with your curiosity, your sincerity, your kindness."

Fiona shied away slightly at the very accurate read of her.

He let her have a moment to recover before continuing to speak. "I would love to have more time to figure you out fully, to get to know you, person to person... if you'll have me."

Hush, I know they said the end is near But I'm still on my tallest tip-toes Spinnin' in my highest heels, love Shinin' just for you

She looked up at him with soft silver-blue eyes, searching herself for the answer as she contemplated his request. "O-Okay. Can some of that time be without a crowd...?"

He smiled. "I know just the place." He took her by the hand and led her out to an open balcony, pulling her into a slow dance as the door closed after them when they got outside. He led her, one arm around her waist and the other holding her head protectively to his chest.

And they called off the circus Burn the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

She pulled away from the close embrace, moving to hold his hands again. "I-I..."

Thomas smiled, a patient ease to his posture. "Yes, Fiona?"

"Can we have... more than just tonight to know each other?"

He held her cheek. "I would love nothing more."

And I'm still a believer, but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

In an instant, her lips tilted to reach his.

And nothing else that night mattered for a weightless, ethereal, eternal moment.

Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

[ari-shipping-stuff]

Monochrome Week 2020

Day Three - Fake Dating AU

———

@monochromeweek

———

The night was alive. Colorful lights pulsing like a heartbeat. Lively disco music pumping everyone up like an adrenaline rush.

Weiss usually scoffed at parties like this. Ugh. Dance clubs. So crowded. No oxygen. But surprisingly, she found that she could finally stop holding her breath.

Henry wasn't there, forcing her to dance. Or talk about him. Or stay at his side at all times because he had no life. She could bop her shoulders to the music in content freedom. Full-out dancing had always been Ruby and Yang's forte. Which was why she stayed back at the bar to talk with Blake.

They hadn't seen each other in nearly a year, ever since Blake transferred schools, which was a shame, considering that was the year their friend circle had formed.

Weiss was the tech-savvy one of them four. She kept tabs on everyone's social media (even if they didn't want her to) and had noticed several changes on Blake's account. She was never one to post selfies. Just pictures of cute cats and her dark academia. And even if she didn't post anything in months, Weiss thought her latest picture was something worth noting.

She took a sip from her Jack Frost, swirling it around to play with the ice.

"How's Adam?"

Blake nearly choked on her drink, coughing when she put it down.

"What?" she croaked.

"When were you going to tell us about him?" Weiss tilted her head.

Blake sighed, rubbing her temple.

"We lasted like a month, Weiss; there's nothing to tell."

Weiss raised a brow. "A month, huh? What happened there? You guys looked pretty sweet in that photo together."

Blake snorted. "He posted that one. Wanted the world to know I was his whore."

"Sounds bad."

"It was bad. Still is. I broke up with him, but he's just not giving up," she grimaced, downing a gulp of purple cocktail. "Bastard."

Weiss snorted.

Pause. Then—

"Your dad still brainwashing that Marigold guy?"

Weiss groaned, throwing her head back in frustration.

"He doesn't even need my dad to tell him to do stuff anymore. He just goes ahead and thinks I'm infatuated with him or something. You know, that 'hard to get' mentality or something."

"Yeah, I know the type." Blake replied dryly.

"You think they'd leave us alone if we got into a relationship?" Weiss snickered.

Blake snorted. "Yeah, maybe."

They settled into a comfortable silence then. Weiss accepted that statement as the joke it was supposed to be. But it began to resonate in her head. The more she thought about it, the more it began to make sense in its own ridiculous way.

"Weiss?"

"Hm?"

"What are you scheming in there?"

Weiss paused. She downed the rest of her cocktail.

".. What if we did?"

"What if we what?"

"What if we were in a relationship?" she said. "That would get them to piss off."

Blake raised her eyebrows, glancing away nervously. She bit her lip.

"I.. I don't know, Weiss.." she said. "Seems a little extreme, don't you think? A-And are we even sure it'll get them to leave us alone?"

"But it makes sense!" Weiss exclaimed. "You know they won't take our word for it, Blake. Neither of them will get the picture unless they see that we're interested in someone else."

Blake drank down the last of her Purple Rain, deep in thought. Weiss distracted herself with the lavender glitter on Blake's eyeshadow.

Blake pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"

"Texting Yang. My place or yours?"

"Wh-What?"

Blake glanced at Weiss, standing up.

"So we can plan." Blake said. "We'd have to start as soon as possible, right?"

Weiss blinked up at her.

".. My place."

•

In all the years she knew Weiss, this was admittedly the first time Blake had ever been inside her room.

She thought it was regal-looking, to say the least. Perfectly cleaned. Icy white walls, silk curtains and sheets.. Like some ice castle.

Blake put down her bag, laying it next to the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. She looked back at Weiss, only to see her pulling up a large frame of wood from a nearby chest.

Blake raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really need that corkboard?"

"Of course, we do!" Weiss said. "If we're going to make a game plan, we're going to have to do it properly!"

"You mean, we can't just do PDA and act like.. I dunno, Qrow and Clover?"

Weiss would've laughed at the inside joke, if not the circumstances. Instead, she shot Blake a sour pout. Which was far from the desired effect.

"Blake, if we're going to sell this to the public, you need to be serious about this," she scoffed, spreading out her arms for emphasis. "Like I said, we have to do this properly!"

"I am serious!" Blake exclaimed, crossing her arms. "If you're so experienced about stuff like this, why don't you tell me what your 'properly' means?"

Weiss blushed furiously, jabbing a finger at Blake. She opened her mouth, as if trying to say something. But nothing came out. She didn't know either.

Blake just sighed, propping herself on her arm.

"I'm starting to regret agreeing to this." she mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Weiss cried, crossing her arms defensively. "I'll have you know, I'd make a great fake girlfriend if you were actually cooperating with me!"

"Uh-huh."

Weiss huffed, looking away, a pout on her lips. But her gaze found her clock. Then her expression softened. She punched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.

"We've spent all this time arguing.. My father will be home soon, and we don't even have so much as a first move!" she groaned.

Blake looked towards the white alarm clock, wincing. 10:50.

"Alright, look," she spoke up, surprising Weiss. "Let's say our relationship started off as a secret. Several months ago. And by secret—"

"—Not even Ruby and Yang would know." Weiss finished. She nodded. "Yeah, that'll work. Then.. We're going to make us public."

Blake pursed her lips. "I.. I'll ask around about you. Pretend I'm interested. Get people talking. Would that work?"

Weiss nodded, the tiniest of smiles forming on her face. It was a little infectious, prompting a grin from Blake.

"And," Weiss added. "There's a party tomorrow night. Ruby and Yang's place. It's a little less of your scene, but if we're seen dancing together or holding hands, it'll probably do something."

Blake nodded. "Yeah."

"That should be all we have to discuss now." Weiss said. "We'll think of more at the party, alright?"

Blake nodded, standing up. She reached towards her bag, only to have Weiss get there first.

Weiss raised her eyebrows, laughing lightly, handing it back.

Blake smiled a bit, glancing to the side.

"Looks like we never needed the corkboard, after all."

Weiss glared at her. "Just shut up and leave."

•

This was a slightly smaller party compared to last night. There were a few dancers in the middle of the living room. But mostly, people were in pairs or three's; talking in the corners. Fairy lights. Finally, some punch that wasn't spiked.

Weiss lounged on a bean bag with her usual group, in a circle on the couches they claimed early. But instead of contributing whatever bizarre shower thought debate was going on, Weiss just sipped on her punch, her mind far away.

"Hey, Weiss?" Ruby whispered. She sat on the couch right next to Weiss, so she only had to turn her head.

"Hm?"

"Did you and Blake talk much last night?"

Weiss already knew what prompted this question. Though it didn't stop her heart from racing.

"I guess so, yeah." she shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"It's been a while, huh?" Ruby grinned crookedly. "Since the four of us were together in one place."

"Yeah," Weiss sighed, turning to check the door. "It was."

"So why'd you two leave early?"

Weiss flinched from the question. She took her time in answering.

"Winter got worried. She called and told me to come home. Guess Klein didn't tell her where I'd be." she shrugged. "Blake just wanted to walk me home."

Ruby's smile grew at that. "Mhm.."

Weiss raised an eyebrow at her best friend, who swirled her punch around the red cup with her evil 'I'm planning something you definitely won't like' grin.

"Ruby.."

"Yes, Weiss?"

"Ruby."

She only giggled. She put her elbow on the armrest, with her face in her hand.

"Blake just texted us last night. Aand she was asking about you."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"And—" she raised her voice, prompting the rest of the party to join the conversation. "— it wasn't just me and Yang, Weiss. She texted all of us! Right, guys?"

There were collective sounds of agreement around the table. Weiss rolled her eyes.

"And?"

Ruby groaned.

"Well," Nora interrupted. "She kinda sounded like she was interested."

Ruby stood on the couch, gesturing to Nora with extreme exaggeration.

"Isn't she with that Adam Taurus guy you told us about, Weiss?" Jaune piped up. "The one in her picture?"

"They broke up." Weiss replied simply.

"Looks like someone asked." Yang smirked.

"Blake's fair game now." Nora added, sipping her punch.

If one could drink punch slyly, Weiss was certain Nora was doing it right.

"And Henry Marigold?" Oscar added quietly. He recoiled at the disappointed expressions he got from the majority of the group. "Not that I like him.. It's just that he's been pining for Weiss even before I got here. Wouldn't he take action?"

"So you do believe Weiss and Blake are getting together?" Nora asked, jabbing a chip in his direction.

Oscar shrugged. "Yes? I'm not Ren."

"Hey!"

Weiss sighed. Thank their lack of focus. At least, she wasn't being focused on anymore.

But then, as if on cue, Weiss caught the distant sounds of door chimes. She spun towards the door, and there she was, nervously recoiling into herself. It might've been the fairy lights, but Weiss could've sworn her cheeks were alight with pink.

She was about to get up to get her until she heard the obnoxiously loud coughing from behind her. Weiss gritted her teeth, smiling sarcastically at the group.

"And I suppose Blake just showed up because she wanted to?" Yang teased.

But as it turned out, Blake didn't wait for Weiss. She found the group herself, especially with Ruby's frantic waving.

"Blake!" she exclaimed, her voice reaching up a few more octaves. She gave Weiss a knowing sideways glance. "What brought you here~?"

Blake twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

"Oh, uh.. Weiss invited me last night."

"She did, did she?" Nora raised an eyebrow, elbowing Jaune excitedly.

Weiss buried her face in her hands miserably.

"Anyway.." Blake continued awkwardly. "I hope it's no trouble if I just, uh.." she reached down and gently grabbed Weiss's wrist. ".. Borrow Weiss for a minute?"

Yang cleared her throat.

Ruby grinned encouragingly, reaching up to whisper in Blake's ear. Whatever that was, caused Blake's face to grow increasingly red. She didn't say anything else and pulled Weiss up.

"Come on, Weiss." Blake sighed amusedly, dragging her to the dance floor.

Blake gingerly put her hands on Weiss's waist, bringing an intense blush to the shorter girl's face. She could still feel the burning gazes of her schoolmates in the back, and so desperately wanted to ignore it.

A cold jolt went up her spine when Blake took her hands, bringing them up to her shoulders. Weiss raised an eyebrow at her.

Blake could only shrug, looking down.

"You were zoning out." she mumbled.

Weiss nodded, moving forward, so that their bodies were touching.

It was Blake's turn to give her a questioning look.

Weiss hesitated, but she shrugged as well, laughing a bit.

"We look like we're being forced to dance."

Blake nodded. "Fair enough."

They swayed in silence from there, perfectly content in not talking. After a few minutes or so, Weiss saw cameras flashing in the corner of her eye. They were doing this for the public, weren't they? To shove it down the boys' throats.

Without a word, Weiss leaned her head on Blake's shoulder, breathing in a musk of honey.

"Convincing, right?" she whispered.

Blake snorted, a soft smile on her face.

•

They left as the party lost its swing. Blake's old school would certainly have something to talk about tomorrow. Weiss Schnee, leaving her Prince Charming for an old sweetheart. If Blake's friends weren't attending said school, she'd have no reason not to despise it.

Instead of heading home right away, they decided the night was still young and went to a restaurant near Blake's house. They were both so focused on their so-called 'photoshoot' they forgot to grab a handful of chips on the way out.

Next thing they knew, they were laughing so hard, they were choking on their sandwiches.

"I can't believe you would do me dirty like this!" Blake mocked, barely containing her laughter. "Oh, god, are you sure you guys were never together?"

"News spreads fast, doesn't it?"

"Especially when Ruby and Nora are the ones spreading it." Blake chuckled.

Weiss grinned. "Anything from your side?"

Blake snorted, shaking her head. "Honestly, I'm almost scared for when he does."

"Why's that?"

Blake shrugged, smirking sarcastically. "Let's just say he'd be far more intense than whiny texts."

Weiss frowned worriedly, tilting her head. Hesitantly, she laid a hand on Blake's shoulder.

"Blake."

Something churned in the pit of Blake's stomach. Not in a bad way. Like light little flips. Flaps. Butterflies. But she couldn't wrap her head around it. Maybe it was something in the way Weiss could say her name like that. It soothed Blake easily. Even if just a little.

"I'm fine." Blake sighed, taking a mournful bite out of her grilled cheese. "He just texted me earlier this morning."

"He did?" Weiss murmured. "What'd he say?"

Blake took her time in answering, chewing ever so slowly. When she finally swallowed, it felt sharp.

"Just.. He called me out for avoiding him. Even though I explicitly told him we were over, he still thinks entitled to me." Blake growled. "He denied stalking me, manipulated me, and now he has the gall to say I'm overreacting? He's just unbelievable!"

Weiss felt her blood boil. This guy walked all over Blake, called her the bad guy, even after all that? She couldn't wait to meet this guy. If only to break his legs.

She carefully brought her hand to Blake's, gently stroking the back with her thumb.

Blake's eyebrows raised at the gesture. Instinctively, she stretched her fingers outwards, fitting them between Weiss's.

"I'd never do that.." Weiss mumbled.

Blake didn't know the thought process of that statement, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

Then Weiss's eyes snapped up, meeting Blake's gaze. But Blake was losing her mind. Noticing everything.

Her heart stopped. She could smell Weiss's faint vanilla and petrichor musk. The usually-invisible specks of indigo in Weiss's large, sapphire eyes were easy to spot. As well as the faded scar running down her left eye.

This was the closest they've ever been to each other. Not just in the physical aspect. This was just so much more intimate than the dance somehow. Blake felt close to Weiss and it was driving her insane.

"Thanks."

———

this ended up being too long, which was why it took me ages to post. and this will also have a sequel on day five

though, this whole thing was my favorite to write ^^

— ari

———

part one | part two | part three | part four

#monochromeweek2020 #day three #fake dating au #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #high school au #rwby #shipping #monochrome #checkmate

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Phoning Home

The idea for this fic came to me after I called an old friend of mine on the phone. Let's just say I felt a little vulnerable and got emotional, but they're a good friend, so I didn't mind. For my other fics check out my Masterpost.

In this fic the reader and Rick get a bit honest over the phone

__________________________

The funny thing about cell phone reception was that if you stepped into certain parts of your house, you'd lose a bar or two. Though, for whatever reason, it seemed Zeta-7 always had perfect, steady reception; which you thought could've been attributed to the 4 slot chip holder behind his phone battery. Well, with that kind of reliability, you never had trouble understanding him on the other end of a call unless there was background noises like laughing or something blowing up; usually the latter. So, for the most part, it was like having him right there, but not really, and you stressed that when you heard it in his voice; you stressed how important he was to you and how much you missed him. "It's so nice to hear your voice. I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you."

"I-I know." he agreed, light exhaustion coloring his voice. "It's been a-a-a busy couple of weeks hasn't it?"

"You're telling me." you sighed as you glanced at the photo the two of you had taken a few months ago; taken on the night he had assumed you two were about to break up, and you had tried to be mature; all of which you did just to impress him; how silly it was of you, but how lovely an evening it had been. "It seems as though this is all we can do anymore; just talk on the phone and hope that the other person isn't lonely."

"Are you lonely?" he inquired; his voice taking on that particular soft, sweetness which would have almost been alluring if other words had been used instead.

"I want to say I'm not," you started because you wanted to be better than that; to prove that you could be more mature than your years, "but usually I can't. I guess I am." 

"I'm s-sorry mi corazón."

"I mean," you tried to reason, "I try to tell myself that it's only temporary and that the work you're doing is much more important than my own feelings, but I feel as though we're on two different worlds, on different planes, and are destined to be apart. I know how silly that sounds, but it's how I feel sometimes. Goodness is it…am I wrong to feel this way?"

"No, you're not. Boy," he confessed, guilt laced in his words. "I - I feel as though I've neglected you."

"No, that's not true at all. You've taken very good care of me."

"Have I? I allowed you to get lonely, and I don't know how I-I-I can forgive myself? Y-you're everything to me."

"As you are to me." you softened; tears biting the back of your eyes. "You're so important to me, that it's like I'm missing a part of myself when you're not here."

"Gosh," Zeta-7 sniffled, pausing for a moment to collect himself before he continued. "y-y-y-y-you don't know how hard it's - how I-I really want to be there with you. All I see all day are lab specimens and m-my own face…that is the faces other Ricks. How I've lasted this long is beyond me, but I believe it's - it's because I think about you."

You sat up on your couch, ready to listen. "What do you mean?"

You heard as he set down something heavy; maybe a book or a beaker full of some concoction. "Do you remember when I said that I sometimes wish I could carry you in my pocket, and have you look after me all the time? Well, I um - I like to imagine that I really do. Th-that you're so small and precious that I can't let you out of my sight or else…"

"Or else what?" you wondered, being both intrigued and warmed by his thoughts.

"Or else someone better suited might take you away from me."

You couldn't have thought of anyone better suited than him. Over all these years, there had been a few guys including an old friend from high school, but they had never been enough. You had other interests in mind, but when Rick came along, it's as though something inside you woke up. In the beginning, Zeta-7 was so shy and easily hurt, and even now he thought you could've had anyone when all you ever wanted was him. "What would you do if someone tried to take me away? Whether in your imagination or in real life, what would you do?" 

"I wouldn't let them, unless - unless you wanted to go, but I wouldn't want you to go, not after how long I've waited f-for you. I know I'm being selfish, and I-I should stop rambling but you make me so happy; the happiest I've ever been. How can I not think of you?"

His earnest, sincere nature wasn't lost on you. You had to pause, and take a moment to find your words, let alone a steady train of thought. He truly was lovely; what a shame that he thought so lowly of himself. "I mean, there are a plethora of things to think about."

"Gosh, it's neat to think about experiments and all, but I'd rather - it's mighty swell to think about you."

You placed a hand over your heart, realizing that you didn't feel so bad anymore. In fact, amidst the conversation you found that you had done something similar to cheer yourself up; imagine that he would be somewhere about the house; cooking, cleaning, tinkering, or napping on your couch; ready to greet you with smiles and kind words whenever you were in the room. "I see. I think...no," you blushed, "I do understand what you mean. I think about you all the time too. I'm sorry for worrying you. I should probably let you go now."

"Wait, b-before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you."

"Alright."

"I read something not that long ago and I thought it was fitting. It goes like this: 'Si nadie sabe ni p-por qué reímos,'" he softened, "'ni por qué lloramos; si nadie sabe ni por qué v-vivimos, ni por qué nos vamos; si en un mar de tinieblas nos movemos, si t-todo es noche en derredor y arcano, a lo menos, amemos; quizá no sea en vano.'"

"Rick, that sounded lovely, but while I've been trying to learn a little Spanish, I don't understand. What does that mean?"

You heard a familiar sound, and behind you, a portal opened, and he stepped through; from head to toe, he was covered in a hazmat suit. With a lighthearted chuckle, he cleared his throat and you swore you could hear his blush, through his mask. "It - it means in more or less words that despite whatever happens or might happen, th-that I love you."

Those words which he always meant, but rarely said struck you with such a force that you couldn't help but be relieved and the burble of laughter which escaped your throat was not contained. And as much as you wanted to hold him, you knew that if he was wearing all this gear, it was for a good reason. "Oh Ricky, I would kiss you if I could."

"I-I'm not supposed t-to have left and might get in trouble," he confessed, "but I had t-t-to come here in person to tell you that. How else could I prove my worth as y-your boyfriend? As a man?"

Standing as close as you could, you smiled up at him; unaware of his own struggle in wanting to hold you, but not being in a condition to do so. "You prove it to me all the time as you had just now. Why I couldn't ask for anyone better. Thank you, dear, really thank you for being with me."

He stretched out his arm, nearly touching your cheek with his gloved hand, but stopped and allowed it to drop to his side. "I'm - I'm sorry, but I hav-"

"To go? It's okay, I understand."

Rubbing his arm, he informed you, "I'll be back soon."

As always, like a ghost, he would go away; not knowing when he should return, but knew that he was never far whether you wished it or not. "Alright."

He turned around, unhappy that he'd have to leave you alone again, but before stepping through the portal, he mentioned. "After this assignment is done, I'll take an extended vacation, and w-we'll go wherever you want."

There were a great many places which you thought of and wished to go, but if anything else, one thing proved true. "As long as you're with me," you confessed, with a hand pressed over your heart. "then I'll be happy because when I'm with you, it's like coming home."

"Me too. More than you'll ever know."

Fin

#doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x female reader #rick sanchez x reader #Doofus Rick #Rick sanchez #rnm fanfic #Rnm fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #rick and morty fanfiction #J19Z7 #rick j19z7 #rick j19zeta7 #j19zeta7 #J-19-zeta-7 #Rick j-19-zeta-7 #j19ζ7 #my writing #My works #fanfiction #cellphone #Phone calls

[alrightsnaps]

some Episode IX positivity

So I watched The Rise of Skywalker and...it wasn't as bad as I expected?? The spoilers I'd read had pretty much prepared me for a disaster but (especially with the traumatizing GoT finale in mind) I have to say that, bar the way they handled Kylo Ren’s storyline and the horrifying moment they made Rey kiss her abuser, they created a pretty epic conclusion to the Star Wars series.

• THOSE LEIA AND REY SCENES

• I swear I could feel my heart swelling with love every second these two interacted

• Rey calling Leia “Master”

• their final hug that was shown in the trailer, with Leia caressing Rey’s hair....that's the daugter our Space Princess General deserved

• THE!! TRIO!! MOMENTS!!

• the love and care and protectiveness and mutual support between these three... I'm emotional okay????

• Finn’s “You are going alone Rey. You're going alone with friends.” reminding her that she's never going to be alone again

• my son Poe Dameron being his usual sassy self deserves a mention of his own because I love him too damn much

• LANDO CALRISSIAN

• everyone's reactions to seeing Lando, the respect in their eyes and voices upon meeting such a legend, DISNEY IS SPECIFICALLY TARGETING MY WEAK NOSTALGIC HEART AND I'M EATING IT ALL UP

• “Give General Leia my love” “You can give it to her yourself”

• Zorii Bliss y'all

• “Not that you care, but i think you're alright.” “I care.” I FOUND MY REY SHIP PEOPLE

• C-3PO’s “Taking one last look, at my friends”

• FLIRTY POE DAMERON I STAN SO HARD

• Bill Weasl–ummm sorry *checks notes* General Hux revealed as the Resistance spy in the First Order and being like “I don't care if you people win. I just want Kylo Ren to lose” because honestly MOOD

• the trio meeting the gang of First Order defectors that joined the Resistance

• Jannah

• sorry but I just have to add Leia sacrificing herself for (what she hopes remains of) her son and Han’s conversation with him (imaginary as it may have been) because I may despise that little piece of shit with all I have, but the whole sequence simply screamed Leia-Organa-and-Han-Solo-too-fucking-noble-and-good-for-this-world

• I just love Leia and Han so goddamn much and they deserved more than anyone a son like the glimpse we got of Ben Solo fighting for the Light (except they got a Neonazi asshole that murdered his father and then was granted an unearned redemption for some reason...... fuck fuck fuck I'm angry crying again they really did my parents dirty)

• Poe crying by Leia’s body, knowing that as her second in command he has to power through his grief, and wondering how he'll ever live up to this incredible woman he respects and looks up to and loves so much– THIS IS THE ONLY SON OF MY PRINCESS I'LL EVER RECOGNISE

• THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF LEIA’S DEATH TO CHARACTERS AND AUDIENCE ALIKE

• Chewie’s cry when they heard of her passing just fucking broke me

• JODIE COMER AS REY’S MUM

• That Luke/Rey “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are” Moment™

• JEDI LEIA JEDI LEIA JEDI LEIA JEDI LEIA JEDI LEIA JEDI LEIA

• the incredibly beautiful and so quintessentially Star Wars “rebellions are built on hope” message

• Lando reminding the Resistance that back in the first war the rebels were also just a bunch of kids that poured their heart and soul in their fight and won against all odds

• seriously seeing the Resistance defeated and wretched and so tragically helpless drawing hope from their predecessors and letting that hope fuel them as they go against the Final Order?? What could possibly be more star wars than that???

• “It’s not a navy. It's....People.”

• Lando fucking Calrissian

• I can talk about the battle scene and all those glimpses of the Resistance members we've grown to love giving their everything even when they know this may as well be a suicide mission, for hours

• FORCE SENSITIVE FINN SENSING REY’S PAIN AND ANGUISH AND WISHING TO RUSH IN TO PROTECT HER

• Rey singlehandedly defeating Palpatine on her own... you have no idea the stress I was under since Kylo Ren turned into Ben Solo or whatever. By the way the plot was playing out at that point in the movie, I was 90% sure they'd have him step in and save the day or something, in some big Redemption™ gesture. And instead we got fucking badass Rey Skywalker bringing down Palpatine with Luke and Leia’s lightsabers?? Just when all hope is lost having her hear the voices of all the Jedi knights within her, encouraging and reassuring her they're by her side?? Yup, this is absolutely 100% what I signed up for!

• The Resistance celebrating their victory with love and laughter and joy in their eyes.... and the nod to the original trilogy finale... good gods, I'm such a slut for nostalgia 😭

• DID I MENTION LANDO CALRISSIAN BECAUSE SERIOUSLY I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVED HIS PRESENCE IN THE FINALE

• lesbians in space! (....for two seconds or so, but I'll take what I can get, don't judge me!)

• THE TRIO'S FINAL HUG BEAMING AT EACH OTHER WITH SUCH HAPPINESS AND LOVE

• Rey burying the Skywalker twins’ lightsabers in the Tatooine desert

• Rey taking up the Skywalker name as she sees Leia and Luke in the distance (Ben?? who again???) cementing the notion that we are not our genes and can choose our own paths and become our own persons

• THAT POETIC LAST SHOT OF REY LOOKING INTO THE TATOOINE SUNSET BRINGING THE STORY FULL CIRCLE

To conclude, the Reylo kiss was pure cringe and Kylo Ren sure as fuck didn't deserve redemption, yes, but overall the movie's callouts to the original series, seamlessly bringing past and present together, and the way the central theme of hope shone through the movie, not to mention the palpable suspense and epicness and heart it radiates makes it a beautifully fitting conclusion to the nine part saga.

#star wars #the rise of skywalker #tros spoilers #swtros #leia organa #rey skywalker #poe dameron #finn #luke skywalker #han solo #lando calrissian #anti kylo ren #I'm being optimistic in light of the new decade #but also I'm always game when it comes to trashing kylo ren and calling out Disney for making rey kiss her abuser #FUCKING DRAG DISNEY STAR WARS FANS #cause they deserve it

[starkerparkerpony]

You're so very precious my little darling Pt.1

This was supposed to be my first attempt at writing smut but my prudish tendencies are incapable of doing it without proper build up.

Relevant info- aged up starker, peter is 28, tony is 46. This is mostly just light flirting and some coarse language. 1st of 3 parts. This is Tony and Peter's first meeting, Thanos has already been dealt with, Tony doesn't know that Peter is Spiderman... yet.

Do tell if you would like to be tagged in future updates.

Tony first met the smug little prick who ran 'park.er' at TechCrunch. He had these ridiculous brown curls that looked entirely way too soft, obnoxiously brown eyes that were way too big and a devastatingly disarming smile... with dimples. It was all too much and Tony didn't care for the way everyone seemed to be swooning at him at all.

They were on the same panel, discussing their respective new smartphones which were being lauded as "innovative & groundbreaking". Tony had questions about whether this inexperienced newbie's product was at the same level as his, but he actually respected the work the kid had managed to get done in the varied fields of genetics, textiles and adhesives (of all things) so he kept his silence.

"Starkfone is technically the first time that Stark tech is being retailed directly to the general public and there has been some criticism about the prices, or rather how high they are, what do you have to say for yourself Tony?" the moderator guy asked.

"Well, what has to be kept in mind is that unlike some other smartphone brands, we are manufacturing within these great United States of America because if I'm going to conquer the market then I'll bring the jobs too" Tony winked at the audience as they applauded "So yeah, prices are a bit higher but no one can deny that you get more bang for your buck. Especially when the Stark name is involved."

Tony had actually fought tooth and nail to get the prices lowered and they would be in the future, but yeah, besides the intelli-crops this was the first time that the general public was the customers rather than the government or other companies, they still had some stuff to figure out but Tony gave the audience his signature smirk and they cheered for him anyway.

Parker just looked on in amusement.

"Peter you're manufacturing the Gizmo in the US too right? Yet your product is 30% cheaper... How'd you pull that off?" The moderator asked the kid.

"Ah... after having spent like ten minutes in Mr. Stark's company, I'm coming to the realization that maybe my low pricing is a result of my low self esteem." The boy chuckled, the crowd laughed with him. Tony played along and shrugged.

"No but seriously... I have absolutely no problem being the Android to Mr. Stark's Apple" The kid grinned cheekily at the crowd and the audience ate it up. He definitely knew what he was doing.

And Tony hadn't missed the fact that the kid compared his tech to Apple.

"Are you calling my tech a vanity product kid?" Tony challenged, playful smile firmly in place.

The crowd went "Ooooohhhh" anyway.

"Oh no, I'm sure it's a great phone Mr. Stark! I just have no way of knowing for certain, you know... cuz' even I can't afford it" The kid shrugged smugly as he got another huge laugh from the audience.

******************************************************

Tony rarely had a quiet moment at events like this but he had managed to get away to an empty corner for a breather and was distracted by his phone when he felt a hand gently rest at the small of his back.

The Parker kid came around to stand in front of him, he was almost a head taller than Tony now that he was close up. The boy had moved his hand but Tony could still feel the tingles from the initial touch.

Trouble.

"Mr. Stark I hope I didn't offend you earlier... I was very nervous, this is my first time here and my friend Michelle told me that compared to you, I have the 'personality of a wet sock'. So, I guess I was just trying to make a good first impression" the kid caught himself from babbling more and it pissed Tony off, how sincere he sounded.

What also pissed Tony off was the fact that the boy wasn't just taller than Tony but also very muscular too, a twunk if there ever was one.

He was definitely only pissed at him and not attracted to him at all.

"Don't worry about it Parker I can take it... you did good today, great first impression, consider me blown away" Tony assured him with a friendly smile "And please call me Tony."

"Only if you call me Peter."

"You got it Pete." He said, trying to irritate the boy a little but didn't get much other than a little eye twitch.

"Was I interrupting something?" Peter asked

"Nope, I was just replying to some texts."

"Well, if you're free, I'd love to pick your brains about this AI project I've been working on and maybe buy you dinner?" Those eyes and dimples were in full effect, sincerety shining through... so Tony had a hard time saying no to the kid.

He definitely didn't just wanna spend time with an attractive, intelligent man... Tony was being generous and helping out the not-so-little guy.

By the end of the of the evening, filled with charming and intelligent conversation, he had to concede that the Parker kid wasn't all that bad.

******************************************************

The second time Tony met Peter Parker was almost three months later and he was at a low point.

Bruce and Rhodey were away at work, Happy was with Pepper and Pepper was... married.

And even though things were better after the Thanos episode, they weren't all that good.

And Tony was spiralling... rather publicly.

It's just that it had been a while since he his last encounter with alcohol and so the open bar at the Mayor's gala hit him like a truck. All while being surrounded by cameras and reporters.

Tony was about to respond to the asshole who kept asking him about Steve when he felt a hand rest at the small of his back and deftly start to guide him away from the bar and the cameras.

"Long time no see little darling" Peter Parker was looking down on him with those eyes and that face... God he's obnoxiously good looking.

Speaking of obnoxious "Did you just call me little darling?" asked Tony, justifiably indignant.

"Wow you really are drunk" Parker chuckled.

God has his voice always been this deep and husky...?

"That's not what I asked" Tony insisted

"Did you want me to call you little darling?" asked Peter, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ugh- Where are you taking me by the way?" He's definitely still just as irritating as last time.

"Home"

Huh... hooking up with a business rival was not what Tony had planned for the evening but it was better than being miserable and alone, which was in fact the plan, so he went along with it.

Parker stopped by a Burger King drive through on the way which only made him all the more attractive to him.

They were awkward in the elevator of the Stark Tower and the boy still hadn't made a move which was a little weird.

What wasn't weird was Parkers arm casually draped around his waist.

Once they were in his quarters living room area and Peter seemed like he was starting to leave, it became evident to Tony that the kid had literally just meant dropping him home.

He was a little disappointed but he wasn't gonna say anything... until Parker opened his smart mouth.

"Well, I'll see you around little darling" He snickered

And Tony had intended to just give him a light shove, but the back of Parker's knee hit the couch and Tony stumbled too and somehow they ended up with Peter on the couch and Tony in his lap, straddling him.

"Gotta' say... when I imagined Iron Man making a move on me, I expected something a little more advanced than the 'stumble straddle'" the kid was playing it cool but Tony could see his blush.

So he responded with "You imagined me making a move on you?"

"Oh repeatedly... it has been my favorite fantasy since I was like 15" The kid had the gall to wink at him.

"Well sorry for letting you down kid... now are you gonna fuck me or not?" There was a corner of Tony's mind that was worried that he was coming off too desperate but Parker was hot and Tony was drunk and horny so he couldn't care less about appearances.

"Your ability to call me a kid and then ask me to fuck you in the same sentence would be worrying if I wasn't almost thirty... speaking of fucking you, that was my initial plan but you're drunk and I don't wanna take advantage of my little darling..." Peter was letting him down but he had a very fond smile on his face... it made Tony all warm inside. The pet name was growing on him too... uh oh.

What was also contributing to his warmth were Peter's, rather large, hands. Resting on his waist and thigh.

"Maybe I want you to take advantage of me..."

"Oh there's no 'maybe' about it... you have a semi just by sitting on my lap, this is as embarrassing for you as it is flattering for me..."

God he was a smug little prick, Tony loved it.

~To be continued~

#starker #pro starker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #starker fanfiction #iron man #iron man x spider man #spiderman

[deanssunshine]

“Star Fall”

by Samantha Grace

(TW // Language, violence, strip club scene, lewd dancing)

• Chapter One •

The '67 Impala spun down the dirt road, drifting, and coming to a complete stop. Two boys, built and tall, holding shot guns emerged from the purring car. They cocked the guns, gaining the attention of the tall creature lurking in front of them.

"Hey, shit head." One of them expelled, firing at him. The creature made an unearthly scream before disintegrating into the ground. The man who fired lowered the gun, before smirking sideways. "Easy enough."

"Dean!" The other man yelled, quickly re-aiming his gun at a figure above. Dean shot his head up before firing at the being, causing it to turn to dust. He turned to the opposing man with a wide eyed look on his featured face.

"That was close." He spoke, pure exhilaration in his voice. The other man exhaled and nodded, checking his environment again. "Job well done Sammy." Sammy shot Dean an unappreciative, flat stare. "Looks like we can go celebrate." He said climbing into the drivers seat of the car. Sammy quickly followed after him. The Impala roared to life before speeding off in the distance. A short lived drive, the Impala pulled into a large scale building. Sammy glanced up through the windshield, his eyebrows scrunched.

"The Cat Scratch Club? Really Dean?" He turned to face Dean, a disapproving look on his face while Dean smiled relentlessly.

"Come on." He teased. "You know Sam, if you'd just-"

"I don't need to hear "the speech" again, I'm not a child anymore..." He groaned making Dean smile at himself. With only looks traded from one man to another, Sam sighed unpleased before opening the car door. Dean smiled wide, turning off the engine and practically leaping out of the vehicle.

Dean pushed the door open revealing the neon lights and bass pounding music. The room was decorated with several stages, there was a bar lining the front and back wall, on the right was a hallway gated by curtains, and to the left a couple of doors. Probably being the dressing room, and bathroom doors. Dean's smile only brightened as his eyes flashed from the surrounding lights. He turned to Sam.

"Go get us some drinks I'll pick a table." He nodded before walking off, allowing Dean to return his raining, alpha male status. He scanned the room profiling costumers and bouncers, reading their body language, searching for a women in need of some lovin'. He found a table just near left of the stage, bringing out his wallet. Sam rejoined him. "Thanks." He said swigging his beer, Sam leaned back in his chair, watching Dean's hands, quickly rolling his eyes. "You gotta know how to treat a lady Sam." Dean spoke slipping a few dollars into the bra strap of the closest dancer. Sam scoffed a laugh making Dean look up at him. "What?"

"Nothing..just wouldn't expect anything less of you, Dean." Sam shook his head while Dean threw him a goofy, "you know better" face, the shifting music made the boys snap out of their conversation...A Van Halen song started up through the speakers getting Dean's attention. A new dancers presence embraced the stage, pulling all eyes in the room on her. Her finger tips graced the length of the pole that lay center stage, dragging them gently around as she approached the front. Dean's eyes glistened with every inch of the dancer that his dashing green eyes caught. She stood in tall black heels, dressed in dark purple lingerie. The thigh high straps tight against her beautiful thick thighs.

"Jump back, what's that sound ?

Here she comes, full blast and top down."

Dean huffed a harsh breath. "Holy mother of-" and before he could finish the women in purple dropped to the floor, a crouched position with her legs spread wide open, her hands resting on her knees. She rose to her feet at the tune to the song, slowly with her hands trailing up her legs. She wrapped her hand around the pole just above her head, beginning to walk around yet stopping behind the pole with enough time to smack her hands on the pole on just the right beat.

"Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue.

Model citizen zero discipline.

Don't you know she's coming home with me?"

Her sweet body swayed down the centered pole, keeping the pole between her hips. Sam glanced over to Dean, seeing him completely entranced by the dancers movements. Smiling slightly at the thought of DEAN being so attentive, instead of the other way around. His light eyes trailed up and down her body continually, eyebrows scrunched in a sexualized feature, his body totally frozen. Her leg wrapped around the pole and she swung herself around until she landed front and center. Unlatching the wrapped leg and sliding it out. Her newly free leg rose straight into the air, ever so elegantly.

"You'll lose her in the turn..

I'll get her!

I'll get her!"

Dean's mouth slipped open and a slow smile tugged at his lips.

She was back on her feet, swinging around that cold metal pole. Suddenly, her mouth dropped open and she was the only voice the room. Her arm raised over her head, her back against the pole,sliding down. She reached her knees letting them open, she shook her hands twisting them slightly in front of herself.

"Panama, Panama

Panama, Panama!"

"Dean," Sam's voice broke his in-attachable gaze, sending him an impressed, and unbelievable smile. Dean , unfazed looked back at Sam, his face frozen with cheer. He slowly returned his attention to the stage. She crawled, on all fours around the stage, she batted her eyes, hanging them low, pouting, putting a pleased expression on her face. Her soft pink lips seemed to be the thing Dean watched the most.

"Ain't nothin' like it, her shiny machine.

Got the feel for the wheel, keep the moving parts clean."

She made her way from one corner to the next, her eyes landing on men, as the reached for her, placing money in her lingerie. She caught sight of Dean. He straightened in his chair as every muscle in his body stiffened, feeling her watch him.

"Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue,

Got an on-ramp comin' through my bedroom.

Don't you know she's coming home with me?

You'll lose her in the turn.

I'll get her!"

Their eye contact didn't break as she made her way over. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes trailed up and down his body. Dean felt his jeans tighten around his waist, making him sit upright, biting the inside of his cheek. She let her fingers hang onto the edge of the stage, lowering herself nearer to Dean, swaying her ass in the distance. His eyes trailed from her lips to her ass. She flipped onto her back in one swift motion, reattaching his attention to her front.

"Yeah, we're runnin' a little bit hot tonight.

I can barely see the road from the heat comin' off of it.

Ah, you reach down, between my legs, ease the seat back.

She's blinding, I'm flying,"

She ran a hand through her long, red-tinted brunette hair, toying with the end of the strip she twirled around her fingers. Dean quickly slipped his biggest bill into her chest. Her legs raised slowly as her hand traced from her cheek bone down to her thong. Of course, on the beat, her legs parted into the most arousing spread eagle. She knocked the wind out of Dean as he couldn't help but "ooh" under his breath, still smiling. She slipped herself upright, her ass plump enough to drool over. Her back dimple piercings shining perfectly under the light of the stage. She turns back around crawling off stage setting herself into his lap. There was static in their eye contact, such an intense erotic tension that left nearly untouchable space between them. A finger ran down his chest clutching the rim of his jeans as he slipped another bill in through her thong.

"Right behind the rear-view mirror now.

Got the feeling, power steering,

Pistons popping, ain't no stopping now!"

And with that she was back on her feet, her ass catching both Sam and Dean's attention as she made her way around to other men, tossing their money her way.

"Panama, Panama

Panama, Panama!"

She moved onto the stage once more, dancing around the pole before spinning herself around it, looping her leg, slipping down with her back to the pole. Ending upside down with nothing but her leg holding her steady.

There were hoots and hollers but that's nothing unexpected. The girl flipped herself up right before walking off stage, back into the velveted curtains. Sam turned to Dean, amused at the sight of him so numb minded.

"Hello...earth to Dean?" Sam sat there for a minute before throwing a peanut from the bowl on the table at his head, causing him to flinch and snap into focus.

"What the hell Sam?"

"Dean clean yourself." He said smirking, nodding his head at Dean.

"That girl was-" he started, turning his attention back to the curtains. He whistled, more to himself before turning to Sam, taking another swig of his beer.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd fallen in love." Sam joked, watching a girl stride by him, his eyes unintentionally glued to her legs. That was Sam's ever loving thing about a girl, her legs. Dean scoffed causing Sam to turn back to him, blushing a light pink.

"Speak for yourself, kiddo." He grinned, looking around the club. Dean watched as the stage dancer crossed in front of him, making her way to a table at the front, sitting, talking to a man. They both stood, taking her hand and she walked him over too a booth on the right for a dance. Dean's eyes remained glued, watching the light cascade against her hip bones.

"Dean. Did you hear anything I just said?" Sam's voice broke his gaze, again.

"Hmm? Yeah totally. Something about something nerdy." Dean shooed him off, finishing his beer. "I'll be back." He said standing, sitting quickly to adjust himself under the table, before standing again, smiling at Sam and walking to the bar. Sam scoffed in annoyance and sipped his beer, a dancer catching his eye on the stage. "Hi, another beer please." He spoke to the bartender, he nodded grabbing a beer and handing it over the wood bar. "Thanks." He smiled raising it slightly in appreciation before turning around. His eyes wandered again, landing on the same dancer, that purple lingerie shimmered, along with the glitter against her skin. He smiled, widening his eyes before sipping his beer walking back to the table seeing Sam stand from his chair.

"We leaving? But I just got another beer."

"So take it with you Dean."

"...But I've got more one's." He pouted following Sam to the door, looking down at the floor.

"That was Cas." Sam spoke as they stepped out of the club.

"Cas called you?"

"No, Cas called YOU. You just were too focused on the strippers-" Dean stopped in his tracks putting his hands up in defense.

"Hey, dancers." He corrected, making Sam shake his head.

"Well you were distracted, and left your phone on the table."

"So what did he say?" Dean questioned, opening the door to the impala.

"That he would meet us back at the hotel and that it's urgent." Dean cocked an eyebrow in concern and started up the car.

#deanssunshine #star fall d.w. #Dean Winchester fan fiction #supernatural fan fiction