#my first real hq!! fic

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

I’ve read a lot of fanfiction in my lifetime and I can say that without a doubt haikyuu has the best fanfiction out of any fandom I’ve read from, it’s not even a real competition

#looking through different fandom fics organized by bookmarks and kudos has opened my eyes to how some fandoms have some real shit taste lol #there’s always fantastic fics in any fandom but wow sometimes you really gotta scrape the bottom of the barrel to find them #but hq has FANTASTIC fics on the first few pages when organized by kudos/bookmarks #haikyuu!! #fanfiction #jinx talks

[strawberries-and-racing]

i wanna be yours - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

requests that came together and inspired this series:

• nsfw prompts 9-13 (in pt. 2)

• 'listen up. Obsessive possessive crazy max for sweet innocent reader smut.'

• 'ok so we need dark FICS of any driver of your choice but make him very obsessive and possessive and don't forget the smut. Keep it up girlllll!!!'

summary: a lot of tension building between possessive max and sweet y/n.

warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, slightly crazy max, some cliches (im sorry!) also the title is based off the arctic monkeys song because i felt like the vibes matched also i love arctic monkeys💕

a/n: screaming once again!!! this is the first fluff ive posted and it's part 1/2. the next part has the smut as promised but i wanted to take my time and build this up please enjoy🙏

the flight to the UK was long, but well worth it. two months ago you'd been offered an unbelievable opportunity.

an opportunity you'd been dreaming of for years, one you'd spent what felt like an eternity working towards— an engineering internship. not just any internship, one with the red bull formula one team.

you'd be able to travel with the team, shadow the engineers, help with various tasks around the paddock, and design parts at hq. an absolute dream.

after scouring a thousand real estate websites, you'd finally found the perfect place for to live.

a little 1 bed 1 bath apartment, tucked into a beautiful, quaint little neighbourhood. just 30 mins to the red bull hq.

you'd dedicated many late nights and ikea shopping trips to making the apartment your own. your comfortable escape from the grueling hours of studying and pressures of the internship.

you led a busy life, but it never bothered you. you adored what you did and formula one had been your passion since you were a little girl.

and now everything was falling into place. in fact, tommorrow you'd leave to attend your first race with the team. austria. red bulls home race.

you were ecstatic to say the least.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you hurriedly made your way through the paddock and into the red bull garage. your eyes glued to the schedule on top of the pile of papers in your arms.

you were on your way to assist one of the senior engineers in preparation before the race began.

you were nervous, and it was no help that you weren't exactly sure where you were supposed to be meeting him.

suddenly, you stumble over your own feet and bump into someone.

you feel hands on your shoulders, their grasp firm, steadying you.

you look up and are taken aback by the pair of strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. his eyes were the kind of crystal blue that would capture anyones attention. but despite their bright colour, they had a sort of inexplicable depth, darkness to them.

there was something in his expression that you couldn't quite read. something stirring beneath the surface of his icy gaze. it was as though he wasn't just looking at you, but into you.

you abruptly become aware of his hands, still on your shoulders. you're so oddly aware of them, as if it's your first time being touched by anyone.

he holds you firmly, as if trying to hold you together. the moment seemed to last forever. the two of you frozen in time.

a stranger's eye contact and touch shouldn't be affecting you in this way.

"you okay?"

it's only once he speaks that you realize who the man standing in front of you is.

your eyes widen, cheeks flushing. you straighten up quickly, mouth slightly agape.

"oh'" you start, at a loss for words "yeah, im sorry." you manage a small smile.

you straighten up an take a step backwards, pulling away from his grasp. you miss the warmth of his hands more than you'd ever like to admit.

"it's okay, no worries," his eyes linger on you a moment longer before you both go your separate ways.

as you walk away, you cant help but glance back at him.

max verstappen.

you'd certainly heard him speak before on tv, but something about his accent in person was enchanting. his energy seemed to linger on you like perfume.

everything about him caught your attention, long before you'd bumped into him in person.

you'd seen his dominance on track, it was impossible not to notice. he could control the car like no other driver, handling each corner perfectly. he pushed the car to the limit every race and it payed off.

it wasn't just his driving you noticed. his persona. it was everything. and you couldn't ignore the fact that it was sexy.

his short temper, his tendency to snap easily.

it was unreasonably and indescribably attractive.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the next time you see him he's across the room. you're studying the notes that the senior engineer gave you, papers and writing utensils spread across the table in front of you.

he was discussing something with his race engineer, he certainly wasn't doing anything that was particularly interesting or peculiar, he wasn't even looking in your direction. but for fucks sake you were distracted. you were somehow absorbed by his prescence.

ever since bumping into him you couldn't seem to get him out of your head. last night you'd replayed the memory over and over in your mind, finding it more difficult than usual to fall asleep.

all day, you'd silently prayed you would bump into eachother again. your relentless efforts to push your thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind were useless.

the mere idea of him was addictive, so alluring. he was drug-like to you and impossible to ignore.

although it was unknown to you at the time, max had found himself similarly hooked on you. or rather, the thought of you. even though he found enough strength to avoid looking at you, he was well aware of you. sitting at the table in the furthest corner. he was even more aware of the fact that your eyes kept flickering in his direction.

your energy was unlike anything he had ever known. you walked around with an aura of pure innocence. yet you seemed untouchable.

your smile shone. your laugh was contagious. you radiated sunshine. max had come to know these things about you.

you were magnetic in such a way that made him curious.

it stirred something inexplicable inside him. like you were another thing for him to win, to claim. another thing for him to dominant. to corrupt.

your innocence was tangible. and max wanted to be the one to wreck you. it was all he thought about.

ruining you.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the light in your apartment was soft. that's how you preferred it.

you relished your alone time. your small apartment was tailored exactly to you. it was always where you felt perfectly safe and at ease.

light from the sunset was just beginning to spill through your windows. you're stirring a big pot of soup on the stove with lazy motions.

a buzz from your phone catches your attention, the screen lights up and you see a new message. it's from andrew, one of the young engineers at red bull who you'd grown close with over the past few months.

your eyes widen upon reading the message.

a dinner with drivers? you couldn't deny that it sounded exciting.

but then again, you were already in your pajamas and the soup was beginning to steam.

you suck in a breath.

fuck.

the three letters of his name were more than enough to change your answer.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you spent half your time getting ready frantically choosing an outfit.

finally, you'd settled on your favorite black dress. your hair fell over your shoulders in soft curls left over from the day before.

now, you were standing outside the restaurant. you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

you walk in and the hostess greets you with a friendly smile. you're led to a booth connected to a big table that's only half full.

andrew waves you over and you take a seat next to him in the booth. lando sits across from you.

youd never spoken with lando outside of strictly professional context and you were pleasantly surprised by his charming humor. you're engrossed in the conversation with the two boys as the rest of the group fills the table. you look up to greet the others.

your breath hitches when you see him. his eyes stare into yours with the same intensity as they had two days ago. you don't break the eye contact until he sits down and a dark haired boy you've never seen before calls his name.

despite the abrupt rush of blood to your head, you manage to hold up the conversation with lando.

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

max couldn't keep his eyes off you for long, and the longer he watched the tighter his grip got on his glass, until his knuckles turned white. he was so focused on you laughing and smiling with lando that he didn't pick up on the way you fidgeted with your ring. a nervous tell.

max clenched his jaw as you leaned in close to something lando said. far closer than what many would deem an action between two casual friends. your giggles and blushing and landos knowing smirk and your hand jokingly smacking his arm made max see red.

"you alright, mate?"

"im fine."

  °~•☆•♡•☆•~°

as the night goes on and the chatter and laughter get louder, people begin shuffling around, moving to talk with new people.

lando is called over to a different group of friends and andrew leaves with him, leaving you alone in the booth.

"having fun?"

you recognize his voice immediately, sense his burning presence as he slides into the booth, sitting next to you.

"yeah." you manage a smile. "the food was really good."

"that's good." he says, briefly glancing away. your eyes involuntarily trace over the tendons of his neck.

he was wearing a dark button down, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. simple, but ridiculously sexy.

he turns his eyes back onto you. "i didn't know you were gonna be here."

"oh i—" you hesitate for a second, his eyes making your heart skip a beat.

"andrew invited me." you explained, turning slightly so you could face him.

"mm, so are you..." he gestures between you and andrew a few seats down, you know what hes asking.

"oh no, we're just friends." you toy with the edge of your napkin.

it was a bold topic to bring up during a first conversation to say the least, but it didn't feel weird. there wasn't the usual tension, usual coldness that typically came with talking to someone for the first time. it was comfortable, you were able to relax a little.

"hm." is all max answers with. he spreads his legs slightly and pushes his hips forwards, getting comfortable. his leg brushing against yours.

the casual action had your heart thrumming in your ears, beating so loudly you're worried he can hear it.

you swallow, having to glance away. you feel your cheeks turning red.

why max verstappen had such an intense effect on you was still a mystery.

"so um—" you start, trying to make some small talk that would distract you from his arm that now rested on the ledge behind you. you take a breath, composing yourself before speaking. "how often do you guys do this kind of thing?"

he shifted again, his leg touching yours, but he doesn't pull it away this time. the knot of nerves in your stomach tightened. you felt your face turn even redder. the physical contact made your body ache for more.

max smirked, his ego swelling as he saw the effect he had on you.

"once in a while, usually after a race." 

you nod, biting your lip.

"congratulations by the way." you say, it wasn't surprising he'd taken first yet again, but you said it anyways. you prayed he wasn't able to pick up on the way your words came out slightly shaky.

you wanted to do nothing more than relax into him, but with the way he was looking at you that proved to be impossible.

you took a sip of your wine, desperate to cool down as an unexpected surge of heat washed over you which lingered between your legs.

max was different than anyone you'd ever talked too before. he reminded you of nobody. his sense of humor was unique and hilarious.

as the conversation continued you grew immensely fond of the dutchman sitting beside you. although you were absorbed in the stories from his childhood he told you, you remained acutely aware of how close the two of you were now sitting.

max's night couldn't have been unfolding more perfectly. your body language made your thoughts and feelings painfully obvious.

he picked up on the way you blushed immensely at any slight touch from him. the way your pupils dilated as you stared at him. the goosebumps that spread across your chest when he complimented your dress.

but the loudness of the restaurant was a little too much for him. there were too many people here. he craved something more intimate, more private.

"do you wanna get out of here?"

you're caught off guard by his words.

the question was so cliche, yet coming from his mouth it made your heart throb.

"there's a beautiful view not too far from here," he continued, "we could walk?"

his voice was like velvet and he leaned in close, speaking in a low tone as if he didnt want anyone to hear except you.

by now, you're practically having heart palpitations. the pit in your stomach gapes wider.

it was already hard enough for you to keep your sanity intact with him while surrounded by other people. you honestly aren't sure if you could handle being out alone with him.

you nod slowly your head spinning, breathe quickening.

"oh, yeah i'd love that." your voice was unsteadt, yet enthusiastic.

without another word he starts getting up, but before he slips out of the booth he gently touches your leg with his hand, as if reassuring you.

his fingers may as well have been made of hot metal, his touch affected your entire body, his fingerprints burned into your skin.

you felt like a little kid with a crush as you gingerly got up and followed max out of the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach and in your mind.

you don't notice all the eyes on you two as you leave the restaurant, too caught up in the giddiness you were feeling. your own eyes too focused on max in front of you, more specifically on his back which looked so good in that damn shirt.

max, on the other hand, was well aware of all the eyes on him. he fought to keep his cocky grin at bay. there were at least 20 other people there, and out of everyone, you were leaving with him.

he opens the door and lets you by first.

"thank you," you say, the night air cooling your overheated body.

"of course."

amongst the ever present—extremely active— butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, you felt a twinge of genuine nervousness.

you realize that you had just left a restaurant, alone at night, with a guy you technically barely knew. was this safe?

it certainly felt safe. max felt nothing like a stranger.

your nervousness melted away once max fell into step beside you. you looked up at him, at those intense blue eyes.

you were walking so close your arms touched. you had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but of course you didn't.

so there you were, walking alongside max verstappen into the dark night, to see the promised beautiful view.

you'd only walked two blocks before max carefully took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours.

please let me know if you want to be tagged for pt.2 (this might end up being three parts)❤

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 #mv33 #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #prompts #fanfic request #f1 fanfic

[orbitalmirror]

Grand Days and Small Gestures

Pairing: Hunter x Reader

Word Count: 9152

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence.

Prompt: “Why can’t you just be normal?”

Summary: You didn’t expect to end up in Separatist prison cell. You definitely didn’t expect to be accidentally rescued by a squad of clones.

A/N: This fic is a gift for @ladyanidala, who gave me SUCH a fun prompt!! I’m gonna be honest with you, this got rather out of hand…I’m not used to writing romance, and then this pesky little thing called plot got involved. It’s not the most traditional reader-insert fic, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! It was my first foray into a second-person POV, and it was so fun that it inspired me to start dreaming up a (possibly fluffier?) sequel. Thank you so much to @cloneficgiftexchange for creating this event!

Today isn’t the worst day of your life.

Granted, the bar is pretty low; the worst day of your life was probably that time you were undercover in a sect of fascist insurrectionists on Brentaal IV, and you discovered that your encrypted comm was irreparably fried. You were stuck in that hellhole for nine weeks before somebody back in the Corellian intelligence HQ thought, “You know, maybe she didn’t suddenly go dark on purpose.” By the time they came to rescue your ass, you had finally decided to quit this job and go become a baker or something. Then you got back to Corellia and…didn’t quit. Didn’t even draft your resignation letter. Nothing in the galaxy makes you feel quite as alive as espionage does—what else could you do?

So now you sit on the concrete floor of a detention cell, your tailbone aching and your fingers stiff from the chill, and you remind yourself, today isn’t the worst day of your life. The idea spins itself into a sort of mantra: It could be worse. It could be worse. It could be worse.

Your stomach growls in dissent.

Hours have passed since the battle droids caught you, and you don’t know why it’s taking so long for a real Separatist officer to arrive for an interrogation. Clearly there are no living beings in the compound, which means clearly your intel was wrong. The datapad you’re after is too valuable to leave in the clumsy, three-fingered hands of droids. The B2s guarding your cell left about twenty minutes ago, and you’ve spent the past ten minutes trying to pry open a panel on the wall with your little transparisteel knife, the only weapon of yours that wasn’t found by the droids and their metal detector.

The panel finally pops off, and you almost groan in dismay. The only things visible in the wall are a thick bundle of electrical wires and some pipes. The pipes look too sturdy to be damaged by you and your little knife, and anyway, flooding your cell probably wouldn’t do anything except electrocute you. Cutting the wires might cut off electricity to your cell door, but that’s just as likely to leave the door locked as it is to open it, and it also might electrocute you. You’re no technician. It isn’t worth the risk.

It could be worse.

The passing of time is almost visceral now, like the ticking of an analog clock in your ribcage. You shove the panel back on the wall. Time for the ceiling. The cell’s metal bench—you can’t even call it a cot—is just tall enough that you can reach up to pry around the edges of the ceiling tiles. You start on the one in the corner, hoping that there’s a ventilation shaft above it. The left edge is just starting to come loose when—

Click.

Darkness.

That definitely wasn’t your doing.

Half a second passes, and then a loud pneumatic hiss heralds the miraculous opening of your cell door, and the adrenaline really kicks in. Has someone finally come to collect you? But why…

You listen. No footsteps.

You hop down from the bench to peek out the cell door. Nothing to see, either.

Another hiss startles you, and you dart into the hall just as the door suddenly closes again, deafening in the eerie silence. The overhead lights are still off, and only the weak blue emergency lights lining the corridor offer you any sense of direction.

You’re free, and nobody is around.

Well, this just got interesting.

~~~

As you make your way through the base, you quickly realize that something very strange is going on. That something strange is probably best exemplified by the droids lying in scrap heaps all over the place, most of them burned through with blasters, but some of them dismantled in a way that you can’t even identify. Whoever or whatever is in this base with you, you do not want to meet them.

So, of course, you meet them less than ten minutes after escaping your cell.

You’ve picked up a blaster from a fallen B1, and are carefully scouting out the control rooms, looking for anything that can help you find your confiscated ship. Unfortunately for you, the walls and blast doors of the compound are so thick that they’re effectively sound-proofed, making it difficult to tell what lies behind each door before you open it. Despite the fact that you haven’t yet run into any functional droid or living being, you feel a spike of adrenaline every time you enter a new room or hallway.

The next one, you think, opens into the hallway where the main control center is housed. If you were paying enough attention while the droids frog-marched you through the base.

When it opens, you don’t find droids.

You find clones.

There are four. Their armor looks different from the clones you’re used to seeing on the major core planets: all of it is painted a dark grey, their helmets heavily customized. Two of them immediately turn to look at you. One is holding a pistol. The other is holding the scariest sniper rifle you’ve ever had pointed at your face. (And you’ve had quite a few sniper rifles pointed at your face.)

Nope, you think. Not happening.

Immediately, you dart around the corner and slam the button to close the door. Shouts ring through the hallway. You shoot the access panel for good measure. Corellia may be a member of the Republic, but that doesn’t mean you want anybody working for the Senate to know what you’re doing here, least of all soldiers.

Time has suddenly become far more pressing.

You abandon some of your previous caution and take off at full speed through the compound. A few active battle droids wander the halls, their tiny electronic brains seeming utterly flabbergasted by whatever turn of events lead to a group of at least four clones carving through an entire Separatist base. You pick them off with ease. They’re not the enemy you’re worried about.

Where are the rest of the clones?

There’s no way in hell a squad of four men could do this much damage…right?

But there are more pressing matters. There’s no signage in the base, which means you’re relying on memory and educated guesses to make your way to the airfield where you know a wide array of starships are parked. You’ve finally made your way up to the ground level of the base, only minutes away from where you think the airfield is.

Unfortunately, the stars are not on your side today.

Footsteps—organic ones, by the sound of it—are coming towards you down the hall.

You duck into an alcove in the wall and press yourself as deep into it as you can, hoping desperately that you’re hidden from view. A few moments pass, and then a clone in that strange grey armor sprints past you. Then a second, and a third, and a fourth.

A few seconds pop by, and you’re about to peek out of your alcove when a grey helmet pops back into view, startling you so badly that you bang your elbow against the steel wall.

“Who are you?” the clone yells.

“Who are you?” you retort, for a lack of any better things to say.

“Sergeant CT-9901. Call me Hunter.”

You blink at him. He tilts his head at you.

You say nothing.

“Hunter! We need to go!” a voice shouts.

“Are you a Separatist?” the clone called Hunter asks you.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then come on!” he exclaims, motioning you to follow him.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re escaping.”

“You’re going the wrong way!” you exclaim. “The airfield is in the direction you came from.”

“Yeah, and we just rigged the airfield to blow. Now come on!”

Well, shit. What other choice do you have?

Hunter takes off running, and you follow as closely as you can. The tall clone with the sniper rifle is waiting for you at the end of the hall, and he says something to Hunter that you can’t quite make out. They’re probably talking through their helmet comms, you realize. The three of you make your way away from the airfield, through a part of the base that you don’t recognize. Here and there, you catch glimpses of the other two clones up aheads, but they don’t seem to be slowing down at all. Metal carcasses of battle droids are strewn around you.

Finally, you break out of the compound and into the sunlight. It seems to be early afternoon, if you’ve been tracking both the passing of time and the cardinal corrections correctly. The base is located in a valley between rolling mountains, surrounded on every side by thick forest and strange rock formations. You follow the two clones to a large boulder, where the other two clones you saw earlier are standing. One is tall, with goggles in his helmet. The other one is even taller, so tall that you could reasonably call him a giant.

“Who is this?” asks the one with goggles.

“Not a Separatist,” says Hunter. “Which is good enough. Wrecker, are we good to go?”

The giant—Wrecker, apparently—gives Hunter a thumbs up, and hits a button on his vambrace.

The airfield behind you blows up. Somehow, it’s one of the most normal things that’s happened all day.

“That should keep them distracted for at least thirty minutes, which is long enough for us to escape the range of their scanners,” says goggles.

“I don’t want to take any risks. Let’s get moving,” says Hunter. He turns to you. “Alright, Miss ‘Absolutely Not a Separatist’. You coming with us?”

“Is that an option?” you ask.

“As long as you don’t shoot us.”

“Didn’t even occur to me,” you say, honestly. “But where are the other clones?”

“What other clones?”

…you’re joking.

“You did all of that yourself?” you ask, utterly incredulous.

“Sure did!” Wrecker exclaims. “It was fun, too.”

“We specialize in smaller operations,” says Hunter. “Wrecker’s our munitions guy. Tech is pretty self-explanatory. Crosshair’s our sniper. We’re Clone Force Ninety-Nine.”

There’s so much information to be taken in right now, you don’t even know where to begin.

“Alright,” you say, because really, you’re completely out of options here. “I guess I’m in.”

~~~

Cool air burns in your lungs. Everything hurts. Everything hurts. Keeping up with the clones’ long strides has forced you to jog in places, and even then, you’ve fallen to the back of the group. Twenty minutes have passed since the airfield was blown to bits, and in that time, you’ve finally made sense of the incredible influx of information you’ve been given. You’ve also developed a veritable laundry list of questions. Chief among them:

“Where are we going?”

Crosshair turns around, and though his helmet covers his face, he’s definitely glaring at you. “To our cache. Keep up.”

“How much farther?” you ask, trying—and mostly failing—to keep the despair out of your voice.

Crosshair says nothing.

Such a conversationalist.

“What’s going on?” calls a low voice—Hunter’s. All four clones are looking at you now, peering through their unreadable masks.

“I asked where we’re going.”

Hunter pauses, tilts his head. Then he starts making his way back down towards you, his posture tense even as his steps are light and fluid. You eye him closely; despite Crosshair’s rifle, and Wrecker’s size, and Tech’s explosives, you’re getting the feeling that Hunter is the dangerous one here. You just haven’t figured out why, yet.

You straighten as he approaches, expecting him to size you up. Instead, he walks right past you, and sits on a fallen tree.

“When was the last time you drank something?” he asks.

…what?

The question sounds downright concerned. You say nothing. The duration of your imprisonment is not information you’ll give out willingly.

Hunter is unclipping something from his belt, now. It’s a small bottle with a colorless, slightly cloudy liquid inside. He holds it out to you, and says, “Drink.”

“What’s in it?” you ask.

“Water, a mild stimulant, electrolytes, and sugar,” Tech rattles off.

Helpful.

Hunter shoves it towards you a little further, and you push it back. Poisoning is not on today’s agenda…not that literally any of this was on today’s agenda.

“You, first.”

Hunter nods, and pulls his helmet off of his head. His face is…not what you expected. His skin is a light brown, dotted with a few faint freckles on the left side, and dominated by a dark tattoo of a skull on the right. His nose is aquiline, his jaw is strong and rounded, his cheeks ever so slightly hollowed. Dark curly hair falls in a tangled mess to his shoulders, held back only by a red bandana tied across his temple. A few flyaways have escaped its hold, as if yearning for freedom. 

You’re a professional. You do not ogle the handsome soldier. Instead, you watch closely as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a small sip. Swallows. Your eyes follow the motion of his throat.

Satisfied, you nod, and take the offered gift. The liquid is sweet and a little salty, but otherwise bland. A faint bitterness lingers on your tongue when you’ve finished taking a few gulps.

When you hold the bottle out for Hunter, he waves you off. “All of it.”

It takes you a minute, but you finish the bottle, and thank him as you hand it back to him. He nods silently in response. What a repartee you’ve established.

“You feel better?” Wrecker asks.

“Sure do. Thanks.”

“We stowed the rest of our gear at a spot fifteen klicks away,” Hunter says. “Can you make it that far?”

Now that’s the real question. The fluids and the short rest have certainly helped, but your legs still ache, and the mountain in front of you is only getting steeper as you climb. Fifteen klicks is just a very long walk over normal terrain. Fifteen klicks now…

“Definitely,” you say, with confidence. “Shall we?”

Hunter motions the group forward, and you fall in behind him.

What a day.

~~~

Time starts to blur, after that. Your world reduces itself to the diffused ache of exhaustion in your legs and the tree roots under your feet…and Hunter. More precisely, the mud-splattered heels of Hunter’s armored boots, as you follow close behind. The clones’ pace is almost punishing; you start to worry how long you’ll be able to keep up, as the soldiers plod along without complaint. Well…almost without complaint.

“I’m hungry,” Wrecker groans, only for the fourth time in the past ten minutes.

“With only three ration packs left, protocol dictates that we reserve our food supply until we restock, or until nutrition becomes an immediate concern,” says Tech.

“This is immediate,” Wrecker insists.

“Your appetite has been an ‘immediate concern’ since we were three years old,” says Crosshair.

Your own stomach growls in affirmation, as if feeling left out of the conversation. When was the last time you ate? Hours have lost their shape. At this point, you feel like time is being measured by the number of feet you’ve climbed.

Abruptly, Hunter halts. Without saying a word, he swings his rucksack to his front, pulls out a foil ration pack, and tosses it over his shoulder. It sails through the air in an elegant arc, right into Wrecker’s waiting hand. You try not to be too impressed.

(You fail, because it was impressive. Actually, you’re not even sure how it was possible.)

There’s a pause as Hunter’s hand hovers over his rucksack.

Then: “Catch.”

The warning seems only an afterthought, delivered as the ration pack is already airborne. You manage to catch it anyway, and you turn it over in your hands. It’s cold-start, the kind that’s mixed with water to form a vaguely edible mush. Hunter is already moving forward again.

“Do you have any more water?” you ask.

This time, he doesn’t even bother with a warning as the metal canteen comes hurtling at your head. It stings your hand as you catch it. You tuck the ration pack into your belt so you have a hand free to open the—

To open—

To—

What the hell?

“Is this sealed?” you call out, even though the canteen is clearly half-empty, and you remember him drinking out of it just minutes ago.

Hunter turns and starts to make his way back down to you. Not for the first time on this bizarre trek, you wish that you could see his facial expressions. His body language betrays little, his movements as elegant and efficient as a supersoldier’s should be. When he reaches you, he holds out his hand. You drop the canteen into his palm with a little more force than is really necessary, but he doesn’t react, simply twists open the lid without any visible effort.

“The ration,” he says, holding out his hand again.

“I know how to mix a ration pack,” you grumble.

But you’re tired, and your hands are stiff from the cold, and you’re starting to wonder whether this is an elite super-soldier’s equivalent of kindness. You won’t bite the hand that feeds you. With a nod, you hand over the ration pack. Hunter mixes it with the sort of automaticity that betrays a thousand repetitions of the motion. Your fingers brush when he hands it back.

One swig of the stuff makes you wonder if it’s not too late to go back to the Seppie prison.

“Urghh,” you groan.

Hunter makes a sound that’s almost…oh stars, he’s laughing at you. You’re dying of hunger and thirst and trying to drink what tastes like cardboard in puréed form, and he’s laughing at you.

“Never had GAR rations before?” he asks. “They’re not like what you civilians get for your backpacking trips.”

“That was…rude, I’m sorry,” you say, kicking yourself for reacting that way when he just offered you help.

“That’s the usual reaction,” he says. He swings his rucksack over his shoulder and turns back up the mountain. “Come on, we’ve got a long way ahead of us. Drink it while we walk. You’ll get used to the taste.”

“Stars, I hope not,” you mumble.

Hunter’s rumbling laugh floats back to again, and you smile despite yourself. For a moment, you wonder if you’ll get along after all.

~~~

It turns out rations for six foot tall super-soldiers are really energy-dense. With a stomach full of food—if you can call it food—the day starts to feel a lot less like a catastrophic mission failure and a lot more like a strange little side quest. Wrecker seems to feel the same, a bright levity emerging in his booming voice.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Hunter took on three regs at one time because they were picking on Crosshair?”

“When would you ever have had time to tell her that story?” Crosshair asks.

“There were only two,” Hunter corrects, “and they were almost a year younger than us.”

“What are regs?” you ask.

It’s a can of worms that you’re glad you’ve opened.

Wrecker seems to delight in having an audience, and the other three can’t help but contribute to the conversation. Their stories are all out of chronology, and the discussion is frequently derailed by your complete lack of knowledge about the Grand Army of the Republic. The Senate wants it that way, you know. Honestly, it’s incredible how much intel you’re getting right now…not that you feel like you could use it for anything productive. It paints an ugly picture that the clones don’t seem to realize is ugly, a tale of forced conformity and a brutal life.

The landscape goes by. You learn that most clones like them are considered defective and relegated to maintenance duty. You learn that, although the clones as a whole view themselves as brothers, there’s nasty people in any group. You learn who “regs” are, and about the ones who picked on the 99s—Crosshair especially, who grew up tall but unusually thin, unable to develop the impressive muscle mass that most of the clones possessed. You learn that Hunter, the only one not visibly defective in some way, learned to bridge the gap between his squad and their other brothers.

(You learn that, when his diplomacy failed, he was always willing to throw punches in their defense.)

A story unfolds, of four boys who turned into four men, all so different in temperament that it seems impossible for them to be held together by anything except circumstances. Wrecker starts fights because he thinks they’re fun, but cares far more about what other people think of him than he’s willing to let on. Tech simultaneously lives in his own head and is inextricably steeped in the world around him, every phenomenon looking more colorful through his goggles, every system of nature a machine that can be disassembled. Crosshair is a cynic, through and through, but his loyalty to his brothers runs so deep that you wonder if it might be affection, rather than a sense of duty, that drives him. Hunter…

In all of their stories, none of the other clones truly describe Hunter to you. There are no off-handed compliments that he’s brave, or that he’s kind, or that he’s level-headed. Wrecker tells you, “Crosshair is the best lookout in the entire galaxy.” Hunter tells you, “Wrecker has this habit of offering to help people at very inconvenient times,”—an amusingly brotherly way to say that Wrecker is a generous soul. Crosshair tells you, “Tech saved our mission because he read a book about karking butterflies.”

But still, in between the tales of rescues and hijinks, you weave together the threads, and you find yourself looking at a very different person than you thought you had met when your day began. Hunter’s facade of gruffness is hastily constructed and easily chipped away, and beneath it he is not a complicated man. Above all else, he is singularly devoted to protecting others, and everything else about him seems inconsequential in comparison.

Evening falls, and you make it to the place where the clones have stored their gear. Their ship, Hunter explains, is another twelve klicks away, near a small outpost that they initially investigated, and then decided not to infiltrate.

After you’ve finished your dinner—which includes some real food this time, even if it is canned—you find yourself sitting by a tiny brook, too small for anything to swim in it. A day’s worth of stories tumble around in your mind.

You only hear Hunter coming when he’s a few feet behind you.

“I won’t ask you what you were doing in a Seppie detention cell.”

Smart man, you think.

“But,” he continues, “whatever it was you did, they’re going to be after you as much as they’re after us. You need to be able to protect yourself.”

You resist the urge to respond with a dry, “Yeah, no shit, Sergeant.” Instead, you offer a non-committal hum.

“I’ve got a spare DC-17 pistol. You should learn how to use it.”

You turn to look at him. He’s standing with one hand on his hip and the other holding his blaster, empty of a power cell. He looks very serious.

You try to resist the urge not to laugh. You’ve had a blaster in your hand since you were twelve years old.

Instead, you say, “Sounds like a good idea. Now?”

“No better time,” he says.

He makes his way over and sits down next to you, and you find yourself leaning in to watch as he turns the blaster over in his hands.

“So we’ll start with assembling it…”

You’re only half paying attention to the actual words tumbling from his lips. Like a sweater catching on a bush, your mind catches on the low, rumbling timbre of his voice. The sound buzzes in your ears. The sun is going down, but you could swear it’s getting warmer. Was he always that—

“Were you paying attention?” he asks, breaking your reverie.

“Yes,” you lie. Well, half-lie, because you were paying attention…to other things.

“Repeat back what I just told you.”

Well, that definitely isn’t happening. In lieu of an answer, you pluck the blaster and its power cell from his hands. Your conscious mind is barely engaged as you assemble it with steady hands, as quick as you reasonably can without jamming it. A DC-17 isn’t your preferred style of pistol, but the principle is the same.

And if you’re not mistaken, the subtle arch of Hunter’s brow means that he’s impressed.

“Good. Now, this blaster handles a little differently than the ones you’ve probably used…”

Maybe it’s the smooth confidence in his voice, or maybe you’re just desperate to learn more about the man, but you find yourself going along with it. You nod as he explains the kickback of the weapon, its effective range, its possible styles of blaster bolts.

Finally, he stands behind your left shoulder, and quietly instructs you to aim the weapon. It’s as easy as breathing. His hands come up to adjust your grip; his fingers are warm and rough, heavily calloused by his own use of weaponry. The heat lingers even as he pulls away, apparently satisfied with the positioning of your hands.

You immediately slide your grip back to where it was.

“My hands are smaller,” you explain, even though you don’t owe him an explanation, because you’ve been doing this at least as long as he has. You almost tell him that, too, but it would reveal more about you than you actually want him to know.

“Mmm,” he hums, his face now tantalizing close to your ear. “See if you can hit that hollow tree.”

The tree is maybe thirty feet away. Half of you is wildly offended by the suggestion that you couldn’t hit such an easy target. The other half of you is ruled by the pounding of your own tyrannical heart, Hunter’s mere proximity throwing you out of your disciplined calm.

You breathe in. Breathe out. Aim. Squeeze.

There’s now a burning hole in the center of the dead tree.

“Good!” Hunter says, and good heavens, could he not stand so close? “Now—”

Fweeoo.

Maybe you should feel bad about cutting him off. You don’t, at all.

Fweeoo.

Fweeoo.

Fweeoo.

Hunter is silent, now, just standing there watching you draw a neat little line of smoking holes in the tree. The petty part of you is winning your internal war, so you line up a sixth shot, turn your head to meet his gaze, and pull the trigger. His dark brown eyes flicker away, then back to yours.

“You’ve made your point,” he murmurs.

You glance at the tree, where a wisp a smoke rises from a knot in the bark. It’s not a perfect bullseye, but a victory nevertheless.

“I’ve made better points,” you retort, smiling. Four precious seconds pass before Hunter finally steps away.

“So, no target practice for you, then. I set up your bedroll. You should get some rest.”

“Which watch should I take?”

Hunter frowns slightly. “None of them. I’m going to scout out the area for a bit longer, then I’ll take first watch. Crosshair and Tech take second and third.”

“Do you want a second pair of eyes?”

“Don’t need them.”

You nod, and suddenly realize what an awkward thing that was to say. “Well then, I’ll head back up to camp.”

“Goodnight,” says Hunter, softly.

You don’t manage to summon a response.

(Your heart still pounds against your ribs.)

~~~

Despite the food, rest, and water, the morning’s trek is harder than yesterday’s. The terrain turns rocky and the foliage becomes sparse, leaving you exposed to the cold wind. The group’s pace slows as you make your way down the mountain, carefully stepping around loose stones that could send you tumbling. Your eyes are once again trained on Hunter’s heels. You trust him more than you trust yourself to pick out a safe path on the treacherous slope.

Still, the difficulty of the endeavor doesn’t seem to dampen the squad’s mood. Hunter’s helmet is off, strapped to the top of his pack, and he often tilts his face towards the sun. The wind blows his curly hair in every direction, until the bandana is only keeping half of it out of his face. Tech is delivering a detailed lecture about geology. You have no idea what he’s talking about. Wrecker seems as confused as you are about the subject, but while you simply let the words wash over you, Wrecker eagerly interjects with questions and commentary. Their dialogue is far from socratic, but it starts to intrigue you, and you can’t help but smile at the exchange. Every once in a while, the conversation is punctuated by a comment from Crosshair, dripping with sarcasm and yet received with good-hearted laughter. Hunter’s contributions, frequent at first, begin to taper off. The other three don’t seem to notice, but then again, it’s not their job to study people. It’s yours.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he answers your question preemptively.

“Someone’s in the ship,” he says, turning around to face the group.

“Clankers?” Wrecker asks.

“No. I would have felt them if they were droids. I’ve been sensing something else: comms, or another type of small electronics. But just now, they turned on power in the ship.”

The cogs in your head are turning. Did you hear him correctly?

“How do you know?” you ask. “What do you mean, you felt…”

You trail off as Hunter holds up a finger to silence you. His brow is drawn into a tight scowl and he closes his eyes, tilting his head as if listening for something.

Tech makes his way over to you. Quietly, he explains, “Hunter can feel electromagnetic frequencies. He can sense droids, or the electronics that people carry on them if they’re quite close. When the electrical power on the ship is turned on, those frequencies change, so he can feel those, too.”

“How could somebody turn your ship on without a key fob?” you whisper.

“The ship has no key fob. It would be dangerous to rely on a small object, which could easily be lost or damaged during a mission, to access our only means of escape. One can enter the ship and activate some systems with no restrictions, and the engine can be started with a key code.”

“And somebody just got on your ship?”

“Apparently, yes.”

You glance up at Hunter. His right thumb is rubbing absently at the scuffed paint on his vambrace.

After a long moment, he says, “There are definitely no droids. I think there are locals here, and we didn’t realize it. We need to move. The ship is only a fifteen minute run from here.”

“Should we leave the packs?” you ask.

“Leave everything except weapons and combat gear. We’ll put the explosives and grappling hooks in Wrecker’s pack.”

“Aww, yeah!” Wrecker cheers, albeit quietly. The rest of the group is in motion immediately, rearranging their burdens and leaving all by the necessities tucked under a rocky outcrop. You have no rucksack, so you help Wrecker in carefully repacking the explosives into his. You’re almost finished when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“You’ll want these,” Hunter says. He hands you two spare power cells for your blaster.

“Two? But you only have three spares.”

“I’m hoping we can reason with the locals,” he says, “or scare them away. But if things got really bad, I’ve got this.”

There’s a metallic hiss as he slides a vibroknife out of the sheath on his forearm. He twirls it in his fingers a few times, a display of skill so casual that it feels almost unreal.

Wait.

Wait.

“Back in the base, did you stab those droids?” you exclaim.

Hunter grins, a full smile that seems so out of place in your current situation. And yet, you find yourself mirroring it right back at him.

“Let’s go get our ship back.”

~~~

Jagged rock digs into your skin as you lie on your stomach on a ridge, peering out at the clones’ ship. Hunter was right; you can vaguely make out the shapes of at least three humanoids milling around it. From where you are, though, you can’t see any more details than that. The group’s only pair of binoculars is currently in Crosshair’s hands.

“Three outside the ship,” he says. “Armored, helmeted, and carrying blasters. These might be more than just locals.”

“Anything else?” Hunter asks.

“They’re waving their hands at each other.”

Hunter holds out his hand for the binoculars, and Crosshair hands them over.

“Sign language,” says Hunter. “Either they don’t want to be heard, or they can’t hear. I can’t feel how many there are. The ship is interfering too much.”

“Are they doing anything to the ship?” you ask.

“Not from the outside. Who knows what they’re doing inside of it.”

“I have encrypted all information present on board our ship,” says Tech from next to Crosshair. “It would be nearly impossible for them to elicit any intelligence from its databanks.”

“I’m more worried about them gutting it,” says Hunter darkly.

To your surprise, he does not hand the binoculars to Tech next—he hands them to you. Nodding in thanks, you take them, and try not to think about the way his shoulder presses against yours. You fine-tune the focusing knob until you have a clear view of the people standing in front of the ship.

Then you almost drop the binoculars.

Hunter notices the jerk of your hand immediately. “What’s going on?” he asks, alarmed.

What’s going on? What’s going on?

What’s going on is that you are never getting that ship back, and you’re all in deep shit, and you’re starting to wonder if you really will quit your job this time.

Kark. This.

“Those are Third Hand,” you say.

“Third Hand?”

“Mercenaries. They’re…” you trail off as you watch one of the distant figures make a wide sweeping motion with his right arm. You wrack your brain trying to remember what it means, but it’s been years since you’ve encountered one of the Third Hand. Usually, the correct response to encountering one is to run very fast in the other direction and pray to anybody who will listen that they don’t follow you…and not to ask them for sign language lessons. The only reason you even recognize them is because their appearance is so distinctive: Ubese filter helmets and cortosis-weave plate armor, painted in swirling multicolored hues with jagged black symbols on top, studded with spikes. The effect is like a monstrous creature emerging from a beautiful supernova. These ones have relatively few spikes each—a good sign, but not a great one.

“What?” Hunter asks.

You refocus yourself. “They’re Ubese mercenaries. Very good ones. Usually contract with the Spice Cartel.”

“So what are they doing out here?”

“Nothing good. If there are six here, there are probably at least twelve in the area.”

“How do you know there are six? Can you see them?”

You’ve mentally catalogued everything you’ll be able to learn from looking, so you hand the binoculars back to Hunter.

“Third Hand always travel in groups of threes. There are three outside, so there will probably be three inside.”

“Six is manageable,” he says.

…manageable? He’s joking. He has to be joking. The man who used to start fist-fights to defend his brothers would not turn them into target practice for the Third Hand.

But his voice is deadly serious.

“Six against four?” you ask, incredulous.

“Six against five.”

“I’m not wearing armor. I’m not a soldier. I don’t count.”

“I’ll still take those odds. We need to complete the mission, which means we need to scout the other large bases on this moon. And for that, we need our ship.”

“They’re armed to the teeth and don’t shy away from killing people like you do.”

“We’ve had worse. We need to complete the mission,” he repeats.

“Hunter, what is wrong with you?” you whisper-scream, utterly furious but fully aware of how exposed your position is. “Do you actually think it’s a good idea to take on six extraordinarily well-trained mercenaries just for a ship? Any sane officer would turn his men around right now and send for evac!”

“We don’t need an evac!”

“Stars help us, Hunter, stop trying to be a hero! Why can’t you just be normal?”

Hunter goes deathly still.

Silence falls upon you; the air seems to turn brittle. You glance between the men. Crosshair is staring at you coldly. Wrecker is fidgeting, his eyebrows raised in alarm. Tech is glancing between you, Hunter, and the display on his Hud, his fingers still tapping against his wrist comm.

Hunter isn’t looking at you.

“We have never been normal,” he mutters.

The word seems laced with poison, and your chest clenches. Of course you had to go and put your foot in your mouth. Of course you picked the one adjective that would feel so personal to him. His expression is angry, but somehow you get the feeling that it runs deeper than that.

“Hunter,” you say, softer this time. “This is a suicide mission.”

“Then don’t come.”

Stubborn man! “Has it not occurred to you that I don’t want you to die? Any of you?”

Hunter does look at you now, his face a mix of so many emotions that it’s become unreadable. You meet his dark eyes and hold his gaze, willing him to understand. Willing him to trust you.

“We’ll be going home with one less ship and no information,” he says. Damn him. “We don’t even know where the datapad is, now.

Something about that sentence catches in your mind. You don’t even know where the datapad is. You don’t…

…no, you do.

It all clicks together.

“Yes, we do.”

“What?” the men chorus, sounding more alike than they ever have.

“You told me that there’s a small outpost near here, right?”

“That outpost was far too small and poorly-manned to contain the datapad we’re looking for,” says Tech. “The Separatists would never leave something so valuable so vulnerable.”

“But what if it is well-guarded? Just not by droids.”

Hunter shifts, turns to look at you for real now. The anger hasn’t entirely faded from his face, but there’s something else there now, a new glint. “Are you saying that the outpost is guarded by these mercenaries, and the datapad is actually being kept there?”

“It’s the best explanation. How much do you know about the outpost?”

All four men glance at each other. Wrecker grins.

“Well,” says Tech, “when I sliced into the Separatist servers…”

~~~

The plan is insane.

The plan is so utterly insane that you wonder if it wouldn’t be better just to take on six mercenaries in a firefight to get the ship back.

The outpost is less than an hour’s hike from the ship; the clones were able to land close to it because it lacks the long-range ship detection system that the large base had. The mercenaries have only been at the ship for twenty minutes or so, and based on what you know of the Third Hand, they will pick it apart piece by piece before they’re satisfied. That takes six men out of the running, but the second the alarm sounds at the base, your countdown will begin.

Hunter and his bizarre superhuman abilities prove invaluable. From this range, he can tell you that there are somewhere around forty droids, and that they’re remotely controlled. Tech has been able to override certain models of remote-control battle droids in the past, and he’s confident in his ability to do so here. 

Crosshair will set up on the hill overlooking the outpost and cover Wrecker, who will launch an artillery attack against the east end. You, Tech, and Hunter will sneak in through the north entrance, where Tech will slice into a terminal and take control of the droids to attack the mercenaries. You and Hunter will look for the datapad, and once you have it, you’ll steal a ship and escape.

So, just normal Taungsday things.

“If anything goes wrong,” you say, “we scrap the mission. If their scanners are strong enough to detect us, we quit. If the droids are the wrong model, we quit. If there are more than fifteen men, we quit.”

Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair agree.

Hunter just glares at you.

The trek to the base is made in silence. Your trigger finger is itchy, and you startle at things that shouldn’t bother you: small animals darting between the rocks, your foot sinking to deep into mud, Crosshair clearing his throat. The group walks in single file: Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, you, and Crosshair. You can’t see Hunter from here. It’s better that way.

At one point, Wrecker falls back a little to walk side by side with you. He leans down a little, as if to whisper conspiratorily. The effect is comical—he really just ends up hovering far above your head.

“We, uhh…we failed our last two missions. It was bad. The Admiral said that Hunter made a bad call, and if we couldn’t do the next one, we’d be sent back to Kamino. Said if we couldn’t function like a normal squad, we shouldn’t be here.”

“So if you fail…”

“Tech and me go to maintenance. Hunter and Crosshair have to teach the cadets. Hunter doesn’t mind it”—you remember his careful instruction with the blaster, and a smile flickers across your face—”but he’d rather be out here.”

“Well, then,” you say, shoulders straightening. “We better not fail.”

~~~

The first ten minutes are a dramatic, spectacular victory.

There’s more firepower packed into Wrecker’s rucksack than you could possibly have imagined. The ground shakes when he begins his assault, and a small part of you worries that he might do his job too well, and send the outpost crashing into a pile of rubble. But, though Wrecker might not always come across this way, you spent much of yesterday listening to stories about him: the man is brilliant with explosives. What you wouldn’t give to be watching the display through Crosshair’s scope right now.

Tech, Hunter, and you manage to sneak into the base with little issue. All of the alarms in the base are already going off, so your illicit entry adds nothing new to the cacophany. Quick as a flash, Tech slices into the outpost’s computer system, and then the real fun begins.

The droids are only B1s, but the great strength of B1s is their numbers and their complete disregard for their own safety. Through the outpost surveillance system, you watch the Third Hand mercenaries scramble to deal with the chaos wrought by explosions on one side and traitorous battle droids on the other. There seem to be nine of them here, and before you and Hunter even set out to look for the datapad, four are already dead or seriously wounded.

(Although you know that they’ve all killed more people than you could count, you still wince at the carnage.)

When all of them seem sufficiently occupied, you and Hunter set out, blasters locked and loaded. After three turns—right, left, right—Hunter motions down a narrow corridor.

“You go that way, look on the west side. There’s nobody there, and there’s a communications room about fifty feet down. I’m going south, this way.”

You resist the urge to argue with him, as much as you want to. He took a chance, trusting you, and now you need to do the same for him.

“Comm me if you find anything,” you say.

“I will.”

You’re sprinting down the hallway when you hear him call out, “Be careful!”

One by one, you sweep the rooms off of the hallway. Most of them are small storage rooms or engine rooms, with one small dormitory. At last, you reach the communications room. Knowing that this is the room most likely to have people in it, your heart pounds as you open the door as fast as you can, blaster raised. It’s empty.

Adrenaline keeps coursing through you as you search the entire room, looking for the datapad. There’s nothing. On your way out, you notice a box of empty data sticks. It’s not what you’re here for, but you shove one of them in the nearest console and wait for it to download the basic schematics of the computer. There’s no time to go searching through the computers for information—there’s probably nothing useful on them, anyway—but you’re hoping that knowing what kind of tech the Separatists are using might help somebody back at HQ.

Bzzz. Your comm goes off.

“Hunter?”

“I found the datapad. It’s at the end of the south corridor I went down, at the very end on the left.”

“On my way,” you say.

In the privacy of the empty room, you allow yourself a sigh of relief. This is not your standard sort of operation. Explosions are still shaking the compound, though they’re beginning to slow down, and you eject the datastick even though it’s not quite finished. You’re here for one thing, and Hunter has found it. Only a few more minutes. Then you can all get off of this planet.

Luckily, you encounter no mercenaries during your sprint to where Hunter is. When you arrive, you find him leaned over a datapad that’s been detached from the main console, a strange-looking datastick plugged into its main port. Hunter glances back and nods a greeting at you.

“Almost done,” he says.

You fiddle with one of the datasticks that you swiped from the communications room, ready to switch yours with his the moment that his download is finished. The next twenty seconds feel like eternity.

Then: green light.

Hunter yanks his datastick out of the console. Then, wiith a flash of movement so fast you can barely processed what just happened, he sinks his vibroblade into the datapad and tears it down the center, splitting the machine into two sparking hunks of ruined metal.

~~~

Here’s the thing:

You’re a spy. Spies have rules. Perhaps chief among those rules is, “Don’t trust anyone.” Especially, “Don’t trust foreign special operatives who you just met yesterday.”

Here’s the thing:

That intel was kept on an encrypted datapad that could not be accessed remotely. It was not backed up. And Hunter just destroyed it beyond any hope of recovery. While his mission is safe and secure in his pocket, yours is a complete loss. And he did that on purpose.

Here’s the thing:

Until five seconds ago, you actually liked him.

It takes a moment before your brain truly catches up, and by then he’s moving towards the exit.

“Let’s go!” he calls.

You hate your traitorous legs for the way they heed his order without question, pounding against the concrete floor as the two of you sprint through the halls of the compound. You hate your traitorous hands for firmly gripping your blaster, not once reaching out to grab him by the shoulder and stop him. You hate your traitorous voice for not crying out in protest, for not calling him a liar and a cheat and a terrible excuse for a human being.

You hate yourself for doing as he says, even as his betrayal lies in a smoking heap behind you.

Your body moves automatically, dodging behind a corner when you see a mercenary. Hunter strafes in the opposite direction and takes a few shots at the man. By the thump you hear, you presume that one of them landed.

“Bet you’re glad you don’t have a ‘normal’ soldier with you right now,” Hunter quips.

Anger rises in your throat. Is that really what he’s hung up on? Your single comment, that’s what made him destroy that datapad, ruining your mission? Maybe you’d understand better if he’d done it for the sake of the Republic, but this just feels like a low blow.

As you round the next corner, Hunter pulls off his helmet and tilts his head, apparently listening for something. Briefly, his eyes flicker to yours, and he gives you a cocky half-smile.

Asshole, you think. It’s a petty word and a petty thought, but your anger is pulsing through your body with every beat of your heart, every memory you’ve formed in the past day suddenly tainted. Quieter, but just as poignant, is a deep feeling of shame. Were you really fooled by a handsome face and a few acts of kindness? Is this the man he’s been all along?

You shake your head to clear the thoughts away. Right now, you need to focus. This is the final leg of the plan: you and Hunter have to get to the far north-east side of the compound, where three ships are kept in a tiny hangar: two fighters, and one shuttle.

Hunter is yelling at Tech through comms: “Tech! Open the door into the hangar and get over here!”

You can see the door slowly open up ahead.

So close.

You’re nearly to the door, making a beeline for the nearest fighter, when you hear Hunter shout.

Then something slams you into the wall. Heat envelopes you, carried on a strong gust of wind. You struggle to take a breath.

One second passes.

The sound of blaster fire rings in your ears.

Two seconds pass.

You finally realize what’s happening. Hunter is pressed against you, his arms held up to protect your head. It wasn’t a something that threw you against the wall just now; it was him, pushing you out of the way of what seems to have been a grenade.

“Got ‘im!” Wrecker yells over comms. The sound rings in your ears, tender from the sound of the explosion.

“If my counting was correct, that was the last of the Third Hand,” says Tech.

“Not the last,” says Crosshair. “I see the other six. They’re on their way here. Four minutes.”

Hunter shifts away now, and you try to take a full breath through the smoke.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

You nod. Your voice feels too raw to work right now.

“Come on, we don’t have much time.”

Emotions are bouncing around your head like a damned pinball machine, and you push them all away, focusing on the task at hand: you need to get to a ship. You need to escape. So you follow Hunter through the door and into the hangar. The wind has changed, blowing the smoke of Wrecker’s explosions away from you, and you breathe deeply as you run.

To your surprise, Hunter doesn’t make for the shuttle. He makes for the nearest fighter, instead. Across the hangar, you can see Wrecker wave.

“Wrecker!” Hunter yells. “Start the shuttle!”

“On it!” Wrecker calls back.

“I thought you were all going together,” you say.

“We are. I need to give you this, first.”

Hunter takes your hand and presses something small and hard into it. The tips of his fingers are warm and calloused, and though you could count on his hand the number of times you’ve touched, he feels as familiar as a home.

“Here,” he says. The warmth is gone as quickly as it came as he pulls away, ducking around the fighter to look around the hangar, scanning for enemies.

All you can think to say is: “What?”

“You can access it with the code 223-228-24!”

“What is it?”

“The datastick. Don’t access it until you’re in a secure position.”

“I don’t understand. You destroyed the datapad.”

Hunter turns to look at you and cocks his head. “I got a copy first.”

“Just one, though.”

“I downloaded it to my wrist comm. This is the original.”

Oh.

Oh!

You want to sigh-laugh-sob with relief. Hunter was never leaving you out to dry. His comment about being a normal soldier…that was teasing. You were running for your lives, being shot at, and he was teasing you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, because your voice can’t be trusted in full.

Hunter only shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. We’d have been dead men without you.”

“Not…not the datastick. I just…”

Words stick in your throat. There’s an ocean between you and Hunter that you can’t seem to cross, the crash of its waves inaudible over the pounding of your heart. There’s an ocean between you, and it’s only an arm span across. Words stick in your throat, but your feet…

Your feet are as light as ever, and you find yourself standing in front of him, looking up into dark eyes that finally seem readable. Hope and fear flicker across them in equal measure.

You move slowly, telegraphing your movement to give him a chance to pull away, but he doesn’t. The world stills, and you brush the gentlest kiss on his left cheek, where ink meets blank skin.

(If it were quieter, you would hear his delicate inhale as your lips touched him.)

“Thank you,” you murmur.

You start to step away, hoping—praying, maybe, to all the stars that will listen—that your message was received and decoded. Then a warm hand, calloused from war and gentled from compassion, takes yours. This time, there is nothing for him to give you; there is only an affection that feels so out of place and so, so right. His other hand tilts your chin up.

When he kisses you, all you can think is, finally.

It’s everything that the past two days haven’t been: slow, unsure, and tender. You feel yourself smiling despite yourself. You feel him smile back, and the kiss is broken in the best way possible: with soft laughter.

Time is slipping like water between your fingers.

You kiss him again. And a third time. You’re starting to wonder whether you’ll ever tire of it when the rumble of a ship tugs you from your bliss. It’s Hunter who pulls away first.

“You’ll be okay?” he asks.

The ghost of a smile still lingers on his face, but his brow is knit together with concern.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Really. I’m a professional.”

Hunter snorts. “We found you in prison.”

“Occupational hazard!”

Hunter’s laugh is brighter than you’ve ever heard it, and sadder all the same. You brush a finger along his jaw, as if you can catch that laugh in your hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“I’ll see you around, Sergeant,” you say.

Hunter nods. “I’ll see you around.”

The way he turns is abrupt, as if forcing himself to move before he changes his mind. You waste precious seconds watching him sprint across the tarmac and up the ramp of the ship, 

Hunter doesn’t look back, but as you watch the ship’s engines ignite, you can almost feel his gaze still lingering on your face.

Time to go.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a goodbye.

#clone fic gift exchange #sergeant hunter #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #TBBE24

[xovalentinewritesxo]

Say you love me (I need it). [Miguel O'hara]

✿ - Having a crush in the spider society was seen as a distraction. The universe was supposed to be put first, so that's what you did.  Knowing that you were playing with your life and knew that this could kill you.

✿ - Miguel O'hara x Reader

✿ - Angst, With tiny fluff.

✿ - Hanahaki Disease.

✿ - Mentions of blood and vomit, bodily pain, near death experience, yelling/arguing, google translated spanish (I apologize in advance-)

A/N: Hiii~! This is my first fanfic! Miguel might be a little OOC, I wanted to make him a little more soft! My next fic however- I can’t promise you that lol!

If you want to support me: Here's My Kofi! <3

I appreciate everything and everyone who comes across my works! Enjoy!

You knew this disease had the ability and potential to kill you. You knew that very well.

You knew that eventually, it would constrict your breathing, flowers would crawl up your throat and leave you breathless before you eventually passed.

Were you going to say anything about it? Of course not. You couldn’t allow something like this disrupt your job as a spider person.

That was until you were out with Gwen and Jessica, and ended up puking up roses.

You had a mission in Earth-229, a rogue anomaly managed to make it into this universe and Alexander, the Spiderwoman of this dimension [My Spidersona ^^], was sick and couldn’t capture it.

So taking up the job, you were joined by Gwen and Jessica, and the mission was going well. The three of you managed to capture the anomaly and were preparing to bring it back to HQ when you got a surge of pain shoot through your chest.

‘No..no..no! Not now please! Anything but now!’

You were standing with Jessica as she logged the report, when you quickly left their side to curl over the side of the building you were standing on, scaring Gwen and concerning Jess.

“Y/n? Are you okay?!”

“Oh god..is it flaring up again? You haven't been around him today, though.”

That statement from Jess caused Gwen to look at her funny. “What? What is wrong with Y/n?” She asked as she rubbed your back, wincing as she listening to the sound of you throwing up, the pained yet muffled cries leaving your body.

Jessica walks over and helps Gwen raise you back up to your feet, a few rose petals stuck to your uniform, and Jessica looked over the building and sighed. Seeing full roses, some with thorns attached.

“Y/n. You need to either tell him. Or you need to get the surgery!”

“It’s not that simple Jessica! I am going to tell him!”

“When!? I am not going to sit back and watch you waste away simply because you can’t tell Miguel your feelings!”

Gwen, once again slowly raised her hand between the two arguing. “Um...Can I ask...what’s wrong, Y/n?”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of the building, placing a hand to your chest to try and ease the growing pressure that was raging in her body.

“It’s called Hanahaki Disease..”

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was a fictional Disease? One used in stories and books..”

You give her a sad chuckle before looking over at her. “It is…in certain universes. Sadly mine it is very much a real disease.” You state as you slowly stand up. 

“Its a disease of unrequited love. One may start to cough of petals if the person they love does not love them back. It starts with Petals, then full flowers, then flowers with stems….” You take a deep breath as you could feel stems start to constrict around certain veins, your lungs being wrapped in a horrifically beautiful pattern.

Jessica can see you struggling to talk and sighs. “She’s in the late stages, stems start to appear in the victim's lungs eventually, if not surgically removed, they’ll constrict their lungs and eventually kill them.”

Gwen gasps as you lean against her, she could hear the wheezing as you struggle to breath, the quick rise and fall of your chest was concerning. You give her a pained smile as Jessica leads you through the portal and back to HQ.

“Y/n…why don’t you get them removed?...if you’re in so much pain..”

“Because. If I remove them. My feelings go too..” You quickly say as Gwen helps you sit on a bench in the cafeteria while Jessica goes to deliver the report to Miguel a job that was usually yours. But with your condition, you slowly stopped going, as even being around him for a short amount of time would cause the vines in your chest to tighten around your heart.

You then freeze for a bit a severe coughing fit coming over her as she hurled over, but instead of vomit, like Gwen had expected, it was several blood roses that hit the floor with a disgusting plop. You dry heave for a bit as a hand flew to your chest.

You could feel your head pounding, the world around you spinning, and you could feel the air being constricted from your lungs. You suddenly grip Gwen’s hand which causes the girl to jump and your eyes widened.

“G-gwen..I-i think i’m going to..” 

You didn’t get to finish the sentence before you felt your body go limp and you fell forward, barely being held up by Gwen who started to freak out.

Your vision was blurred and fading to black and the last thing you heard was Gwen yelling to whoever was passing by to help you to the medical bay.

"Oh My God! Y/n!"

"You did amazing today."

You don’t remember when your feelings for Miguel started. But you want to say it was about a year after joining the Spider Society.

It was just a normal day for you, you were chatting with Lyla as you waited for Miguel to assign you a new mission.

“Hey. Y/n.”

You raise your head to see Miguel lowering his platform so he could come over to you. You could feel  your heart rate increase as he stood across from you. 

“I just wanted to say Thank you, you’ve been a great asset to us since you’ve joined.”

That simple praise is what sent the ball rolling down the hill. Every word he said to you after that made your heart sore, you could see that when you come around that his mood brightens a bit. He would request for you to join him whenever he had a mission. 

"Please take care of yourself, that was a rough mission today,"

"Did you eat today? Please care for yourself, we don't need you passing out."

His small praises would make your heart happy. It made you feel worthy and it only solidified your growing feeling for him.

Sometimes the two of you would spend time together after missions and you knew you were falling head over heels for him.

That was until you overheard him speaking to Jessica one day.

“Why don’t you tell them Miguel?”

“Feelings will only complicate things. I can’t afford to put the universe at risk.”

Those words broke your heart. 

Put the universe at risk? Did he not trust you enough to allow you to love him? Was he afraid that something was going to happen and instead decided to push you away?

Whatever it was, it was the beginning of the end.

Your disease spreads rapidly. After one day of seeing the petals every time you went to cough. To have to leave meetings to have coughing fits and full flowers leaving your body. It was awful. The pain was relentless. You continued your duties as a spider woman, trying not to let your sickness affect you.

You even had a fainting spell in Miguel’s office, and had to beg him to let you continue working, and convince him that everything was fine when everything was in fact, not fine.

You struggled with trying to hide it from Miguel, but you managed, but you couldn't get it past Jessica. Jessica caught on and was concerned beyond belief. She would frequently check in on you, and try to convince you to say something to Miguel.

But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You didn't want to add more stress to Miguel's daily battles already. So you kept it to yourself, and it was not well for you

“Y/n?...Y/n?..por favor dios cuide de ella*...”

You groaned as you felt IV’s hooked up into your arms, you felt a heavy weighted black over your body.

The sounds of a steady heart monitor and when you glanced over you saw an x-ray picture of your chest. Your condition was bad. You didn't release how bad you had let it get.

It showed vines wrapped around her lungs and flowers were in the smaller crevices, which prevented your body from working to it's full compacity.

You whined as your turned your head to look over to see a very stressed and looked like tear stained cheek Miguel sitting at your bedside with his eyes closed.

You reached out to touch the hand of Miguel who jumped slightly at your touch before he rose from his seat and pulled you into a hug. You froze for a bit before hugging him back, your eyes widening when you feel his body start to shake as if he was…crying.

“Miguel..Are you-”

“Shh..let me hold you..let me hold you y/n.”

You tightened your grip around him as he held onto you tight, he was holding you like you were going to vanish in an instance.

The two of you sat in silence for a good 10 minutes before he finally spoke up.

“Why?..” Is what he asked first, and you knew what he was asking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” HIs voice suddenly raised up and he moves to grip your shoulders. “How could you just suffer like that in silence?! ¡Respóndeme!” Miguel barked and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“I..i..I’m so sorry Miguel. I..i didn’t want to be a burden to you-”

“SO YOU DECIDED THAT DYING WAS BETTER!?” 

You winced as he cut you off, you hated when he yelled but this time, it wasn’t from a place of anger..it was one of fear, concern and hurt. Miguel brought his hands up to caress both of your cheeks, he lets out a soft sigh before bringing your lips towards his. You gasped as he pulled you into a soft precious kiss, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Miguel held your lips before pulling away slightly, and pulling you back into a hug.

“Please…do not do that ever again. I love you too much to lose you, especially like this..”

He places a kiss on your forehead as he held you, rubbing your arms, having to have a hand touching you.

You felt your heart swell and hurt, you could feel tears well up in your eyes again as you buried your head into his chest. It was a silent confirmation that the two of you made to each other.

"The doctor says you're cleared up...I'm so glad...When i saw it I thought..I thought.." He got choked up again before he sighs a bit.

"I thought you were going to die...and leave me alone again."

From that moment forward, You promised to tell him everything and he promised to be there for you.

Miguel made sure to take care of you, if you even felt a little off he made you tell him, he was scared of your disease coming back [Even when you told him it wasn’t like that]. He made sure to tell you everyday when you came into HQ that he loved you, hugging you and kissing your cheek or forehead before you left on a mission.

Miguel didn’t want to lose you. So made sure to say it every time he saw you.

“Hey, Mi Amor,..” Miguel stopped you before you headed on a mission, he pulls you into a hug before placing a kiss on your lips.

“I love you.”

You blush and let a small giggle slip past your lips before kissing him back. 

“I love you too..”

© xovalentinewritesxo 2023 <3

Please feel free to put a request in!

#miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction

[patternedlantern]

Keep You Safe - A Marcus Moreno Statesman!AU

Pairing: Statesman Agent Marcus Moreno x Statesman Agent Reader x Agent Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

What’s this? Pat’s writing fanfic now? Well… no, not exactly. 😅 Consider this a loose concept for a fic that I’d want to write if I had a knack for writing, inspired solely by Pedro’s Emmy’s look. As soon as I saw it, it reminded me of Marcus Moreno and the costumes from the Kingsman movies. My brain’s been unable to think about anything else for the last couple days so I'm hoping that setting some of my headcanons free will help free up some brain space haha

Not really any warnings, it’s all pretty brief anyway. Highlights include: pining/unspoken feelings, fake dating, a love triangle dynamic that evolves into polyamory. The Boys keep their canon backstories for the most part. Reader is gender neutral.

The set up:

After sustaining an injury during his last mission, Heroic-turned-Statesman agent Marcus Moreno finds himself on temporary desk duty. He’s promised his daughter that he’ll stay out of harm’s way until he fully recovers. Desperately needing to feel useful while stuck behind the scenes, he's excited to receive his next assignment - as your new handler.

You have been a Statesman field agent for a few years now and have gone through your fair share of handlers - this isn’t your first rodeo. Nonetheless you appreciate Marcus’s unique experience and perspective as a former superhero. He’s kind, patient, and respectful, and the two of you become close rather quickly (while still keeping things professional).

While you’re away on missions, Marcus spends most of his time with Ginger, monitoring mission statuses and tech needs. His powers and weapons knowledge make him a good fit for the tech specialist team. Marcus and Ginger get along so well that their coworkers begin to joke that Ginger is his work wife. And yeah, they’re good friends, but she’s seen how he gets when you’re gone, steadfastly studying the wall of screens. He only has eyes for you. 

Eventually, you get assigned to an undercover mission where you’ll be posing as one half of a romantic couple. Your lucky partner? One Jack “Whiskey” Daniels. You’ve worked with Jack a couple times before and while you find him to be a bit much sometimes, he’s charming and thoughtful under all the bluster.

Marcus, on the other hand, is apprehensive. He hasn’t met Jack yet but he’s heard the gossip around HQ about our flirty, larger-than-life cowboy. Ginger’s not-exactly-glowing comments about him certainly don’t help either, but she assures Marcus it’ll be fine.

Cue the mission with all its potential for tension and pining:

from Marcus having to watch the person he secretly has feelings for “fall in love” with someone else. Seeing the mission unfold and realizing that Jack’s not quite what his reputation suggests

to you actually slowly falling for Jack throughout the course of the mission (because it’s a fake dating story after all) but also having Marcus’s voice low and steady in your ear, always reminding you of his presence and the task at hand

to Jack knowing this is a fake arrangement (and that you and Marcus kinda sorta have a “thing” going) but wanting it to be real anyway, feeling his heart stirring for the first time in a very long time. 

And obviously there’d be all the classic tropes. Couple practice. First kisses. One bed. A fancy gala. You know.

Maybe at one point, Jack becomes briefly incapacitated and Marcus has to step in and take his place for a moment to keep up ✨the ruse✨ Because they do look awfully similar from afar and who’s gonna notice really...

Something something the bond between two men, who’ve both experienced the loss of their previous partners, unexpectedly finding new love. The both of them witnessing the lengths the other is willing to go to to protect that love.

And then eventually the three of them work it all out and get together and fuck nasty. the end :)

#marcus moreno x reader #agent whiskey x reader #marcus moreno x reader x agent whiskey #Pat makes moodboards #and headcanons now I guess #headcanons? plot points? idk what to call them or what to do with them. I just need to get them OUT lol #no fic just vibes #possibly art or more moodboards at some point idk #keep you safe au #x reader

[racfoam]

The Smuggle Harry Out of Britain mini nynn fic for @loneamaryllis set in 7th Year

“I hope this works,” said Ron.

“It will work,” said Hermione firmly, but she still sounded slightly nervous. “There's an entire flat in the duffel bag, I've checked it numerous times. It has enough food to last all three of us a month. And we can always exit it if things go bad.”

“And all the others are baits?” asked Harry.

“Just in case,” said Hermione.

“So we just send ourselves off as a package for a Muggle who forgot his baggage by the airplane? What won't the Muggles invent?” asked Ron, amazed.

“Let's hope it works,” said Harry. “Otherwise we'll be exiting right in the middle of Death Eater HQ.”

Ron laughed nervously.

“Well,” said Ron, gesturing Harry and Hermione to the open bag. “Ladies first.”

Harry grinned.

“Harry, don't jump —” said Hermione.

Harry jumped.

They heard a thud, a groan, and an, “Ow.”

They peered inside. Harry was laid on her butt on the wooden floor, staring up at them. “Could've told me there's a ladder.”

“I tried.” said Hermione sternly.

Ron laughed. Hermione entered the duffel bag next, stepping onto the wooden ladder one step at a time.

The Muggle airport officer was coming to collect the baggage. Ron had no other choice. He leapt in, crashlanding on the parqueted floor, and Harry charmed the zipper of the duffel bag shut. They waited, tense, and then felt the entire flat shudder, as though they were dolls in a house being lifted.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

They explored the flat as much as they could given the earthquakes they experienced through the process of their luggage being processed. They knew they were thrown into the baggage cart near the airplane when they all fell to the ground off the couch where they were lounging against each other.

It was, most likely, the most tense waiting period of three hours of Harry’s life before, after a while of hearing the engines, she decided to climb up the ladder and unzip the bag. She peeked her head out through the gap.

There was luggage everywhere. They were most definitely in a plane — that was definitely flying — heading toward New York City.

Hermione and Ron peeked their heads out, too, their faces popping up on either side of Harry’s.

They released disbelieving laughs before they retreated down. Soon enough, they wept freely, and Harry hugged Hermione tight.

“You need to stop saving my life," sobbed Harry into her best friend's shoulder.

Hermione grinned through the tears. “Never.”

----------

Voldemort raised a hand, stopping Yaxley's report. He was displeased. Very displeased. “And none were the real one.”

Nobody dared speak.

“The real one was not flying with them,” continued Voldemort calmly. “Black was with the half-giant. He played the part well, luring me with the Disarming Charm.”

“We were fooled,” said Voldemort at last. “Whatever the real plan was, wherever my Harriet went, she did not divulge the entire plan to the Order. Perhaps not even her godfather...”

“What of the other two?”

The reports told him nothing of importance, nothing of substance. Voldemort dismissed the meeting. Absentmindedly, he caressed the word on his right wrist.

He went to his chambers, and paused at the sight of the snowy owl perched on the tall cupboard. Hedwig was glaring at him with her golden, sharp eyes, as she always did.

In her beak was a letter. Voldemort tugged at it, and, delivery finished, Hedwig swept out of the window. He could follow her, but the owl was certain to notice him despite him Disillisioning himself. That bird had ten sets of eyes, he was certain, an awareness no other owl he knew had.

Voldemort opened the envelope with a cut of his nail, retrieving the letter inside. It was Harriet's handwriting, one simple sentence.

Who said anything about magic?

The laughter of Lord Voldemort filled the Malfoy Manor.

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ post of gratitude ! <3

⊹ ⠀⠀ hi guys! on my old blog, i'd make a post every november to spread gratitude for the mutuals i interact w most n wanted to carry that tradition onto this blog! ily all and hope that your day was wonderful today (unless ur a nanami stan bc that was rlly rough im so sorry abt that ep ajskl)

psa; if u weren't tagged in this post, pls know that i appreciate u very much and would love to interact w u more!! msg me anytime n i'll try my best to visit ur inbox in the near future!

꒰ . . to my readers ꒱

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ thank u so much for supporting my work by reading, liking, sharing, or commenting on any of my writing! i love reading through reblogs and seeing what u guys think of my ideas,, it's so motivating n i appreciate it so much like omg sometimes u got my kickin my feet reading thru ur comments ajskl i hope to post quality content for ur enjoyment n i luv u all,, much more to come as time goes on !!!

꒰ . . to my mutuals ꒱ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ in alphabetical order

⌗ @chigirizzz ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ hi val! just wanted to say that i love how supportive u are of other creators on the site,, i feel like whenever i see u on the dash ur always hyping someone up or making their day brighter! ALSO i cant believe u also know the voltage otome games bc i feel like i'm crazy sometimes bc no one know what they are LMFAO i hope u had an amazing day !!!

⌗ @doobea ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ dooby!!! i love the bright energy u bring to my dash n i think ur absolutely gorgeous (u ate that choso costume up omg ajskdlf) ur always such a pleasure to interact w n i think ur writing is amazing,, i rlly need to just binge it all one night ESP the choso fics u post bc ur writing rlly captures how much u love him LOL my fav choso worshipper <3 hope yall get married!

⌗ @hesthermay ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ hi pookie teehee,, i haven't answered ur text yet bc i was trying to figure out how to fry chicken (3 of them were raw ajsklf) but i will after i post this lol. ilyvm and i can't wait for u to stay w me,, i'm gonna take u to the mall n treat u to some canes chicken fingers *heart eyes* (i'm typing on my laptop forgive me) you've been w me since my org blog from sept 2020 n i act can't believe how long we've known each other now (3 years!) ur so old like ur my granny but that's ok bc ur my favorite granny ever,, sorry for violating u #ageism is not okay,, i miss u so much n i miss ur bf bc ur my mom n dad (legally) i even miss ur roommate who i actually can't rlly remember the name of but that's not the point i'm trying to make so forget i said that part,, i definitely know his name!!! also i decided that kingsley is my favorite dog u have bc he's tiny n reminds me of my doggie,, luv ya! text u in a bit!

⌗ @itadorey ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ omg hi inez, remember these? no u probably don't bc i got rlly lazy w my blog in the late days (rip aitarose) i love all of the tiktoks u send me n i love ur instagram stories bc they make me laugh n i love how much u love snoopy,, he's literally my idol n there are so many statues of him in my city it's so funny n they always make me think of u. ur my yung gravy queen,, i love u so much n i'm so glad hq tumblr let me meet u even tho it was lowkey traumatizing (yikes) our mudae days were so fun,, esp the night i let that person put the roleplay bot into my server jkals so grateful for u !!!

⌗ @kitorin ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ hiiii souta!!!! i just wanted to say that i LOVE seeing u comment first on my writing posts,, like it motivates me so much bc i know i have such a large support system coming from u n ur so sweet n talented AJSJJJ u were (i think?) my first new mutual on this blog when i first made it,, n you've made coming back to tumblr such a welcoming n amazing experience! i'm so grateful to be ur mutual n i hope you've had an absolutely amazing day!

⌗ @mymegumi ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ firstly BITCH ANSWER MY TEXT. secondly, happy thanksgiving! <3 wish we were spending it together but distance is real n it hates us :( miss u and can't wait to see u whenever that is lmfao like whenever plane tickets decide to stop being so expensive,, so glad we aren't beefing anymore haha that was so silly of us... anyways... whenever i do see u, i'm going to give u a big hug n then we're going to gossip abt everything that's happened since we were last together n it's going to be great bc i'm going to make u watch twice videos n ur gonna love them as much as i do bc i'm ur sister n u have no choice but to love what i love! hahaha... i love you so much n i'm so glad ur my sister #meimei n jiajia 4ever <- that's actually approved by me n that's all that matters bc i'm actually the president of the world and ur my favorite person on it jaklsdf ANSWER MY TEXT BITCH

⌗ @pokkomi ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ chiu u r genuinely one of the most positive ppl i've ever met on tumblr n i love u sm for it like jaskdlfjdkl u always make my day when u reblog a post n reading ur tags is so heartwarming n it makes me want to write a million more pieces just to see what u think of them,, ur theme is absolutely adorable n i love ur alpha wolf pfp bc it's so funny n i was literally giggling when u were answering asks abt it n i saw them on my dash,, i hope that every day is an amazing day for u n if u ever need anything u can come in my pms to chat or my inbox (i will def be saying hi later in urs LOL) have an amazing amazing day n i can't wait for u to post any kind of writing in the future!

⌗ @rewh0re ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ hi hana!!! i'm so glad u popped into my inbox n said hi bc i always saw u interacting w ppl on the dash n i was too nervous to say hi jakfsdlkl i love interacting w u n talking abt whatever n whenever in inboxes or replies,, ur username always makes me giggle n i love it so much (i always read it as 'reo whore' for some reason asjfdkl but i love it) i send ur kuroo fics to my kuroo stan friend n she eats them up,, ur writing style is so beautiful n emotional,, i love the way u structure ur plots w metaphors n repetition n symbolism n everything u put into ur hard work it's all so amazing,, wishing u the very best day tmr ever!

⌗ @wishmemel ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAFI!!!! ik i alr said it but it never hurts to hear a million times n more! i associate u sm w sanrio like idk if mymelo is ur favorite but in my head u r the real life her ajsfkl,, ur so sweet n genuine i love interacting w u n seeing u all over my dash,, I HOPE UR BIRTHDAY WAS AMAZING !!!! ... fixing this bc im screaming bc i can't believe i mixed that up omg... anyways... LUV U

⌗ @yoisami ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ OKAY FIRST i literally LOVE ur theme like it's so cute n so fitting to ur personality i love it sm ajsfkdl saki ur so sweet n i'm so glad we're mutuals bc i always look forwards to seeing u on my dash or going to ur inbox (which i'm lacking on rn but i promise i'll visit it more soon jaskdl!!!!) the way u support ff writing on tumblr is so amazing w ur reblogs n tags,, n i look foward to reading more of ur writing in the future (hopefully i can live up to ur sweet tags!) !!! have an amazing amazing day saki !!!!!!

⌗ @y2kuromi ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ screaming bc i got ur bday mixed up w another mutual but HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN LMFAO !!!! i hope that ur day was so amazing n that i'm not getting this wrong again (SORRY SAFI) !!! mimi ur so nice i'm like giggling so hard rn im so sorry,, happy happy birthday hope it was amazing!

⌗ all of my other loves <3 ₊ ˖ ་.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ i love being mutuals w all of u n being a part of such a supportive writing community! ur all so talented n ur blogs r beautiful, i hope ur day was absolutely amazing n that we can interact more in the future (i will be invading ur inboxes that's a promise ajfskdl) !!!! happy november!!!

#<3 gratitude #it’s so crazy posting this at 20 #i was 17 when i started this tradition 😭😭 #IM SO OLD #ILY GUYS !!!

[hdsudsfest]

HD Sudsfest Week One

It’s the first sudsy Sunday of November and you know what that means—our first weekly round up of 2022! Here at Suds HQ we have been absolutely blown away by the fantastic creations submitted. So if you haven’t had the chance to dip your toe into this year’s offerings, now’s your moment to jump in, the water’s fine! 🧼

[FIC] Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants { E | 33.7k }

Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed? In which Harry's trip to Norway to visit dragon-wrangler Ron introduces him to hikes from hell, mysterious natural magic, foraging, magical bathing, a new and bizarre friendship, and the frustrating, heady allure of his former nemesis turned sexy globetrotting field researcher.

❤️ "this is so evocatively written; both the claustrophobia of grimmauld and the expanse of Norway, what amazing contrasts. I want to read this slowly to appreciate the gorgeous details!!! But I know I shall fail!!!" —citrusses

❤️ "God, I can’t even say how much I enjoyed following Harry’s journey throughout this. It was beautiful to see him finding his way, with help and on his own." —virgosun

[ART] Not Again by @caroll-in { M | Digital Comic }

Not allowed a wand and being on house arrest in Malfoy Manor which magic is acting up and won't provide any tap water is a challenge but Draco makes it work. He takes advantage of the summer weather and resorts to bathing in the small stream running through the estate. Everything would be peachy if only his parole Auror would stop timing his monthly probation visits while Draco is en déshabillé.

❤️ "I am WRIGGLING with joy. I love it! Draco's rosy little butt! And Harry's little peekaboo action! And their happy little faces in the last panel! And the scenery is gorgeous." —acari

❤️ "AHHHHHHH!!! OMG OMG OMG!! This is perfect 😭😭😭 you always slay me. I love it so much. Thank you for creating and sharing and giving us something so amazing." —nv-md

[FIC] The Re-Fenestration of Potter by @cavendishbutterfly and @sorrybutblog { E | 7.5k }

Harry wants the Prophet reporters to stop following him and Draco wants Harry to stop climbing through his window at all hours of the night…even if he’s taken to leaving it open, just in case. Everything is bearable until they both get doused with Draco’s latest batch of Wolfsbane, and then suddenly nothing between the two of them is bearable at all.

❤️ "Omg! This is wonderful! So hot and tender and lovely! And the ending. I was squealing in glee for them!" —melrilielen

❤️ "Wolfy Draco is my favourite Draco. Fun, fun, fun, and a perfect pick me up on a gloomy November evening ❤️" —oriberry

[FIC] After sunlit days, one thing stays the same by flightinflame { T | 2k }

Harry wakes up sore after a full moon. Luckily, Draco is beside him, and knows how to handle it.

❤️ "This was so so so incredibly lovely, you managed to fit into a short scene of intimacy so many unspoken words and feelings, I almost felt like I wasn’t supposed to have this glimpse into their lives because it was so private, so sweet. Great job 💜💜💜" —artcele

❤️ "This was absolutely amazing…it really feels like love - REAL love. And that can be tough to manage, especially in a fantasy setting." —coffee-scribbles

[ART] Rubber Drakey by @crazybutgood { T | Origami Comic }

Harry just wanted to indulge Teddy with a bath toy in the tub. Instead, his evening turns out to be filled with lots of bubbles, a frantic phone call, and an angry duck in a bucket.

❤️ "I adore rubber duck!draco with my whole beating heart. I want to squish him (gently) so much asdghjkl. Hope Harry at least got a few “accidental” squeezes in the process😂 Your origami art comic concept blew my mind btw, you have such a creative soul." —vivantesopales

❤️ "This is so gorgeous!!! Cbg your art is so amazing! I love all of this so much! And it's such a cute story hahahaha ducky draco!!!!! 💜 thanks so much for sharing this wonderful art with us! Love your origami so much. 😍" —teacup-tai

[FIC] The Art of the Bath by brit_girl /@drarrysworlds { M | 23k }

As Draco’s housemate, Harry thought him falling asleep in the bath just once after a long shift at St Mungo’s was once too many. Obviously, the best thing for Harry to do was to keep him company, even if it was at odd, post-Healer-shift hours. What could he say? He was nothing if not a good friend.

❤️ "I'm screaming. This was too perfect and too sweet and just exactly what I needed. This is EXACTLY how I see them, I couldn't have written them better myself. God, just all the feels happening here. If I could leave a million Kudos I would."—VictorieintheSmallThings

❤️ "so frickin sweet! and written absolutely beautifully 💛💛" —pansysimp

[FIC] Meet Me in the Daylight by @krethes { E | 6k }

The war has been over for more than twenty years, but despite becoming Head Healer at St Mungo's, the shadows of Draco's past remain in the memories of his contemporaries. A horrible confrontation at the hospital sends Draco right back into his old inner demons, but Harry is there to ward them away and remind Draco that he's not the boy he once was. 

❤️ obsessed with your drarry and with you and this was amazing and you’re amazing. also apple tart having nothing on *this* tart? snorted out loud hahah —keysie

❤️ "I saw Krethes in my inbox, and I was excited, as usual. THEN I saw that it was DRARRY and I RAN here to read this absolute gem of a fic. Bravo bravo bravo SO enjoyable, thank you for sharing this with us!!! ♥️♥️♥️" —booktopus

[FIC] Baby, Kiss It Better by @fuckboyregulus { E | 8k }

Harry has been avoiding his team’s athletic healer for five years now, but a broken ankle requires him to ask for help from his former boarding school enemy, Draco. Has Draco changed? Have Harry’s feelings about him?

❤️"Harry radiating pain under Draco's spell hurts my heart. So stubborn. Love the idea of the bubble ice bath with added rubber ducky. It's too cute. I was all 👀👀👀 at the description of Harry's tattoos and piercings. Very nice! Welcome to the wonderful world of Drarry!" —acari

❤️"What a fantastic ending to a sizzling fic! I loved this! And congrats on your first Drarry! Welcome! Suds is a wonderful way to get an introduction. It's lovely to have you, and I hope you write more of them! Lovely job with this! <3" —lqtraintracks

[ART] 1000 Kisses Deep by @getawayfox { T | Digital Art }

Harry keeps visiting Draco’s soap shop, trying – and failing – to ask him out for dinner. A few fruitless weeks and unnecessary amounts of soap purchases later, Harry finally gets the courage to say the words. Of course, with his luck, something entirely else slips out. Fortunately, Draco doesn’t seem to mind.

❤️ "In love with this world you created here. Gorgeous. My heart is so full, it's just… beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing your gift with us 💖💖" —rockingrobin69

❤️ "I absolutely adore this!! 🥺🥰 I couldn’t have imagined it any better!! Thank you for creating this wonderful art!! 💕" —cluelesspigeons

[FIC] Phoenix in the Fire by @lqtraintracks { E | 28k }

Harry never expected to have a hot summer fling with Draco Malfoy when he agreed to mind the castle with him. He also never expected that it would all have to end on August thirty-first. What happens when casual sex with Harry’s ex-enemy turns not casual after all? And how the hell is he going to stop Draco from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life?

❤️ "I love everything about this fic! Long hair desi harry and tattoos draco are a couple of my favorite things in general. The story was hot, sweet, and heartbreaking, and then so happy. The conflicting emotions fro.Draco, the desperation, it was all so well written and I may have shed a few tears. Thank you for sharing!!" —sunflowergirl28

❤️ "This fic was sweet and fun and lovely and I love Draco’s tattoos. Also this Harry like 🔥🔥🔥 damn. Thank you thank you!!!" —embrichard

Enjoy these incredible works in our Sudsfest 2022 Collection on Ao3!

weekly roundup header art by fictional, do not repost

#hd sudsfest 2022 #hdsudsfest2022 #drarry #drarry fanart #drarry fic #hpdm #hd sudsfest roundup #drarry fest

[rextasywrites]

Return - Part 1 / ?

“What do you want, Zack?”, Sephiroth’s voice felt as if was trying to pierce a dagger into Zack’s chest, filled with poison and hate. Seph slowly stood up from his sitting place on the floor, his bones audibly creaking, he hadn’t left the spot or even moved an inch in several hours. He brushed some dust off of his shoulders, a single spider jumping off his coat.

“We need to get out of here! Now!”, Zack nearly yelled, Seph making a face in return. Seph didn’t believe himself to be human anymore, but the very human feeling of a dehydration induced headache was just as real.

I was inspired by this ask sent to @altocat a few days ago. It'll be a fanfic with a few parts, and yes, I intended to make it as heartbreaking, if not even more, than the ask submitted.

Warnings: angst, AU - Nibelheim goes wrong in a different way, ff7 content so apply the usual warnings of the games to this fic

AO3 LINK

***

Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess We seek it thus, and take to the sky Ripples form on the water's surface The wandering soul knows no rest.

Three friends go into battle. One is captured One flies away The one that is left becomes a hero.

Loveless, Act 1

*

“Cloud! You pack up your mom, the girl you told me about, her dad, everyone you know in here. Run! I’ll take responsibility for it back at HQ, but you go and get away from Nibelheim NOW!”

Zack’s own voice rang in his head as he carefully made his way down the staircase. The wood was covered in wetness, making every step more dangerous than the last one. As careful as he wanted to be, Zack needed to be fast. Fast, fast, fast. He needed to reach Sephiroth as fast as possible.

Hot flames roared up into the sky, engulfing the houses close to the main square. The water tower had exploded, the water vaporized, not a chance to take out the fire. Sephiroth was standing inside of the flames, shaking like a leaf in the wind. His eyes were robbed of any humanity, what was once a comforting look for fans and friends alike was replaced with emptiness, screaming for something nobody could hear.

“Sephiroth! Why did you do this?!”, Zack yelled at his friend, his mentor, his buddy. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“Nothing with wrong is me, Zack. Everything is right. This is a new dawn for the world. Get out of my way.”

Zack had awoken soaked in sweat. It was barely 2am, the first sleep in several days after the appearance of Genesis and the reveal of Sephiroth’s identity. Only a hefty dose of sleep materia had managed to knock Zack out, but the nightmare…it had felt too real for him.

“Come on…I am not giving up on you, Seph.”, Zack muttered to himself as he ran along the corridor towards the laboratory in the Shinra Mansion. The silence made him deaf, hearing his heartbeat inside of his ears as the door came closer and closer. His legs were carrying him forward, his whole body on autopilot as the only thought inside of Zack’s brain became louder and louder.

He needs to save Sephiroth.

*

Torn pages out of old books, records and scientific papers covered every possible surface of the lab, and Sephiroth was right in the middle. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot from a clear lack of sleep. No sunlight came down there and no clocks were mounted anywhere, Seph probably had no idea how long he had been down there.

“Sephiroth!”, Zack called out once he had stormed into the room, making Seph snap his head around, looking at his fellow SOLDIER with big eyes. Once upon a time, Zack had visited a friend of his back in Gongaga. The poor guy had come in contact with Touch Mes, and the various poisons had caused him to suffer from insomnia. His eyes had been just as bloodshot as Sephiroth’s, and he had begged for someone to hit him with a chair so he’d finally get the sweet release of sleep, concussions be damned. It had taken him nearly a week to recover.

“What do you want, Zack?”, Sephiroth’s voice felt as if was trying to pierce a dagger into Zack’s chest, filled with poison and hate. Seph slowly stood up from his sitting place on the floor, his bones audibly creaking, he hadn’t left the spot or even moved an inch in several hours. He brushed some dust off of his shoulders, a single spider jumping off his coat.

“We need to get out of here! Now!”, Zack nearly yelled, Seph making a face in return. Seph didn’t believe himself to be human anymore, but the very human feeling of a dehydration induced headache was just as real.

“No. I am not leaving until I know everything!”, Seph spat back and turned his back to Zack, clearly done with the conversation.

“I am not leaving until you do.”, Zack replied, the chuckle coming from Sephiroth was something straight out of a horror movie.

“Good luck with that.”

There was no sense. Sephiroth wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t budge, it was useless. Thankfully, Zack was a clever one, even though his actions might sometimes made his peers believe him to be stupid. Wrong. The sleep materia Cloud had used to help his pal go to bed earlier was nestled inside of Zack’s pocket, and with a simple swipe, the materia was cast upon Sephiroth, making him fall to the floor like a bag of potatoes.

And now, how to get him out?

*

Genesis took a bite out of his apple, his eyes gazing down on Nibelheim. While he hadn’t spotted Sephiroth in a few days, he had noticed Zack and Cloud being out in town together, making sure everyone was safe. But something that hadn’t failed to catch Genesis’ attention was the increased security by Shinra, just outside of the borders of the town. Including artillery and enough bombs to level a city. Hu. He took another bite out of his dumbapple, its taste just how he knew it from back home. His beautifully, bombed home. What was going on down there?

*

It took Zack several hours to drag Sephiroth out of the laboratory, up the stairs and through the mansion. By now, the sun had risen, but the town was empty. Cloud had listened to his friend’s advice and managed to get everyone to leave. By now, Zack knew Cloud’s childhood home like the back of his hand, and the few more meters dragging Sephiroth along weren’t too bad. The door was unlocked and once inside, Zack dropped Sephiroth into the nearest bed.

*

“We cannot do this, Tseng!”, Cissnei crossed her arms, standing in front of the prepared gun arsenal. “We cannot let this happen, after everything Zack has done for us!”, Reno butted in, placing his hand on Cissnei’s shoulder in support.

“They are right and you know it!”, came one last resort from Rude’s side, backing his mates up.

Tseng rubbed over his temples, trying to think of an option that’d make everyone happy. They had gotten hold of the information. They knew Zack and Sephiroth would be used as monkeys for Hojo’s experiments. They knew the pain it’d cause them both. Despite the rare overlaps between the Turks and SOLDIER, Tseng had heard first hand of the experiments on Sephiroth. He had seen the pictures of ‘progress’ presented by Hojo with a sick pleasure which even made Tseng’s stomach turn around. He knew how badly Sephiroth was punished back when he came back from a mission with some candies in his pockets, a lollipop hanging from his lips. A thankful little girl had given her hero her last bit of candy supply, a grand gesture for saving her father’s life. Hojo denied Sephiroth any kind of food for a week, feeding him with a tube only. At this point, Sephiroth was 10 years old.

“Fine. Cissnei, do you remember the throwaway PHP I gave you ages ago? Use it. Warn Zack and Sephiroth.”

*

Sephiroth awoke minutes after getting tucked in involuntarily. His body felt warm for the first time in days, the water bottle Zack had placed under the cover with him comforted him like a hug. “Where am I?”

“We are in Cloud’s home. They, uhm, have left for the day and Claudia told me to make ourselves a home! Here, I made you some tea!”, Zack grinned as he watched Sephiroth sit up, stretching his hurting limbs and rubbing his eyes. The sleep he hadn’t consented too wasn’t too pleasant, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Sephiroth took a sip from the tea, the warmth going down his throat and settling in his empty stomach. Only now, Sephiroth realized how hungry he was.

“Zack…do monsters feel hunger? Do they feel cravings?”

“I don’t think so, Seph. I don’t think a Bandersnatch wakes up one morning and goes ‘Oh, today I wanna eat a Hedgehog Pie today! Quite tasty, its meat is so tasty and lean, and its spikes serve as toothpicks!”

“Hm.”

“Are you craving something?”

“I would actually like some noodle soup.”

Before Zack could give Sephiroth a witty reply, he heard the noise of his phone receiving a message. With a smile he took it out and started to read, his smile growing smaller with every word he read.

“Sephiroth. We have to get out of here.”, Zack stumbled over his words, eyes wide as he showed Sephiroth the message.

Still confused and a bit groggy, it took Sephiroth a solid few seconds to read the message and to understand it. The second it hit him, he threw the blanket off of his body, nearly falling over his own feet as they ran towards the door. But before they could make it out, the first bomb exploded onto the house vis-a-vis to the one they were in, knocking the two out cold.

Get out of Nibelheim. Bombing incoming. Get to Kalm asap. Meet u there. -c

***

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy 7 fanfic #zack fair #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos

[sunsetsixx]

lace & silk

a/n: this is a beyond random post for me here at sunsetsixx hq but as a journalism major & previous owner of a multifandom writing blog i guess i was bound to return to my roots at some point ! this isnt me becoming a writing blog, instead just a one-off fic of an idea thats been floating around in my brain for the last 2 weeks that came to fruition in a google doc at 2am. i dont know if theres even an audience for this besides me & maybe like 3 other people in my notifs so enjoy if you wanna & pls dont judge my out of practice writing too much <3

pairing: current!vince neil x fem!reader

word count: 2315

warnings: smutty dialogue, light (?) smut, mentions of tommy & brittany getting it on lmfao, a highly unrealistic take on the behind the scenes of the stadium tour that was necessary for the plot

“Can you fuckin’ believe we’re already halfway through this tour?” Brittany asked, shaking her head as the two of us walked back to where the buses were parked. “I swear to God we just hopped on that plane to Atlanta like yesterday.”

“Seriously.” I nodded in agreement. “Time has flown.” 

“It’s been a crazy ride. Like so fun.” 

“If I’m being honest though, it’s really not as chaotic as I thought it would be.”

“Really? What do you mean?” She asked.

“I don’t know…I guess it’s just different actually living the modern day reality. We’ve heard and read all these insane stories of them in the 80s but obviously life just isn’t like that anymore.” I let out a short laugh. “No real backstage shenanigans…it’s funny to see how much they’ve mellowed out over the years.”

“Girl you’re lucky you don’t have to deal with shenanigans. My husband thinks it’s funny to light shit on fire with hairspray every five seconds. There’s literally never a dull moment in that dressing room.” 

“I don’t know if I’m jealous or not.” I said laughing. “We keep it pretty chill in ours. Mainly just me helping with his outfit and hair. Lots of Fiji water and listening to Sammy Hagar’s solo stuff as ‘pump up’ music.” I explained as Brittany laughed this time. 

By this point in the conversation, we had made it to tonight’s stadium’s back parking lot where our temporary homes were located. All of the buses were set up in a line with the lights on, as if ready to drive off at any minute. But from the looks of Brittany’s face, and the absence of our men, we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

“Hold up.” She said, a look of disbelief gracing her features. 

“What?” I asked, laughing in confusion. 

“You’re telling me that you and Vince Neil haven’t fucked in your dressing room this entire time?” 

My mind began to rewind as many shows back as it could remember, but nothing of the sort stood out. I shook my head at her. “No. Just in the hotels and a couple times on the bus…” I trailed off as my gaze wandered over to the vehicle in question, all kinds of memories from the first week flooding back when Vince so romantically suggested “breaking in the new place” with multiple rounds on multiple surfaces. 

“(y/n)! What are you even doing? You’re a tour wife man, you gotta act like it!” She joked, lightly hitting my arm with her bag. 

“I don’t know! I guess it just always gets too busy back there, especially with all the meet and greets and photoshoots and filming…I never wanted to tire him out before the show or whatever. I haven’t even thought about it too much.”

“The rushing around is what makes it so good though. Tommy & I were like rabbits back in St. Louis. I don’t know what was in that water but shit got crazy.” 

I nodded, thinking about everything my best friend was saying. “You might be right, Britt. Truly what am I doing if not the lead singer in the sleaziest band to walk this earth backstage? It’s a disgrace to their reputation, honestly.” I said, shaking my head. 

“There you go!” She laughed. “Just because they’re getting older doesn’t mean we are too. We gotta keep them on their toes babe.” 

“You always do make a good point Ms. Furlan-Lee.” I replied, and the two of us broke out into laughter. We stood outside scrolling through our phones and judging each other’s Instagram feeds for a few more minutes before we were finally joined by the men of the hour. 

“Goodnight guys! See you on the next!” Nikki’s slightly raspy post-show voice called out. He was walking up with Courtney and a sleeping Ruby in tow on the way to their bus as well. 

“See you dude!” An unmistakable voice yelled back, followed by the appearance of the lankiest guy of the bunch, still somehow with a single drumstick in hand. 

Finally I caught a glimpse of my specific man of the hour, who had traded in the bright red glitter and leathers of his stage costume for a pair of camo shorts and a black tank top. His signature chain hung around his neck and for some reason he was also still adorning sunglasses at 1:30 in the morning. 

“There you are.” I said smiling as he walked up. 

“Hey lovey.” He said, wrapping me in a hug and pressing a short kiss to the top of my head. 

“You tired?” I asked, still in his arms. 

“Yeah I could sleep. Fuckin’ awesome show though. I still can’t believe how many people are actually showing up.” 

I scoffed at his words. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. This is literally the tour of the century. People are gonna be showing up for you guys forever.” 

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Hopefully.” 

He gave my back a quick rub before motioning for us to get on our bus so we could start off to the next city. As we got ready for bed, my conversation with Brittany played over and over in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. 

I just said it too– this is the tour of the fucking century. I need to start treating it like that for myself and my man. Tomorrow is a new day full of new experiences and new ideas and new desires. A million possible ways I could go about what I wanted to do swirled around in my brain, but as I settled under the covers of our shared bed in the back room, a lightbulb moment was had. 

~

The next night began like every other after we arrived at the latest stadium and got everything settled. Crüe was closing the show tonight, which meant we all had more time to hang backstage. We were currently in an in-between period between Poison and Def Leppard, meaning there was about two hours until Crüe’s set. Vince was mostly ready to go, and was over in someone else’s room with the rest of the guys in the band hanging out and doing whatever other pre-show rituals they all partake in these days. 

I was in his dressing room, putting last night’s ideas into action. I was nervous for a million different reasons; nervous he’d shun me off if there wasn’t enough time, nervous he’d think I was trying to act like some groupie on the Girls Girls Girls tour, nervous the idea my brain had conjured up was overstepping or I’d get in trouble with their stylist somehow. Lots of nerves. I just hoped Brittany’s advice was right to take for Vince and me. 

After connecting my phone to the speaker and turning some music up decently loud, I began the action steps of my plan. I grabbed my tote bag and wandered into the bathroom. I took off the ripped blue jeans and tank top I had been sporting all day and opted for something more…(well technically, less) appropriate. I had dug out one of my red teddies from my luggage on the bus, a lacey number I knew was one of Vince’s favorites, and slipped it on in place of my clothes. I touched up my makeup that had begun to flake off over the course of the day, and ran a brush through my hair. 

Once satisfied, I walked back out into the now much more noticeably cold air of the dressing room for the main operation. 

There on a silver rack hung Vinnie’s most prized possession this tour– a floor length, silk piece of art hand painted with Japanese symbols in reds, golds, and royal blue covering the back. I ran my hands down the oversized sleeves as it hung there, looking like something that should’ve been in the MOMA rather than trekking around dingy baseball stadium hallways being diligently followed by a short woman with a portable steamer. 

It had been almost a month of The Stadium Tour and I hadn’t dared to touch it, especially not after seeing how pissed off Vince got when someone (still a mystery who) stole his original show pants from backstage. Tonight was different though. I needed it to help me with the fantasy I had dreamed up after a middle-of-the-night conversation in a parking lot in Cleveland with my best friend. 

I took a deep breath before carefully taking it off the hanger and placing it on me. My smaller frame was of course drowning in it, since the length and size was custom made for Vince. I tiptoed over to the full length mirror hanging on the wall, careful not to drag too much of it on the floor. 

My eyes went wide as I took in the sight of myself. Bright red lace hugging my hips and chest perfectly, (the bodysuit had been a gift from Vince last Christmas, something that actually was custom made for my body’s measurements), with the iconic Wild Side performance look draped over my shoulders. I felt expensive– high class even, and now understood why Vince was always on such a high between the opening song and Shout at the Devil. This piece was enough to make anyone’s ego go through the roof. 

I tied the kimono up in the front to conceal what lay underneath and took a deep breath before walking back over to sit on one of the couches. My back was facing the door, so the surprise wouldn’t be ruined when he came back in, which after seeing the clock turn to 6:39pm, realized should be almost any minute now. 

I smoothed my hair over a few more times with my hand and picked at some stray nail polish that had chipped off onto my cuticles. My mind wandered to the endless amount of reactions he could have at the sight of me until they weren’t just fantasies anymore, but the real thing. 

It took everything in me not to jump off the couch like some sort of rabid animal in anticipation when I heard the doorknob turn and the heavy door creak open. 

“Hey baby, have you see my kim–” 

The sentence died in his throat as I rose from the couch in the very article of clothing he was asking about not a second before. I smiled innocently up at him as his wide eyes looked me up and down. 

I walked toward him, making a show of my bare legs peeking through the soft fabric with every stride forward. He bit his bottom lip when I placed my hands in his. 

“This what you were looking for?” I offered, officially setting the backstage plan into motion. 

“Oh yeah…” He trailed off, letting go of one of my hands so he could twirl me around. “Look at you baby doll.” 

“I got you a present.” I said softly, after a moment. His eyebrows raised when I didn’t continue. Finally I walked backward a couple steps and held my arms out so the kimono’s tie was on display. “You have to unwrap it.” 

He practically pounced on me the second the words exited my mouth. He pulled the silk fabric gently and the loose knot fell, allowing a glimpse of what was underneath to show through.

“You fuckin’ tease.” He said in a low voice, still smiling like a kid in a candy store. The plan was working. 

His hand graced my shoulder as he pushed one arm of the robe off so it draped down my back. “You want something tonight, huh sugar?” He asked, pressing a short kiss to the underside of my jaw. My eyes fluttered closed at the touches, almost completely abandoning the act then and there. I did my best to stay strong. 

“Don’t you have a show in an hour?” I teased, taking a small step back. 

His face dropped. “Don’t you start. Those fuckers can wait.” 

Before I knew it, I was being lifted up and carried towards the couch. He laid me down so my head was on the armrest as he hovered over me. I ran my hands up his tattooed arms as his lips pressed down onto mine. 

He ran his hands over the red lace that clung to my skin and massaged my soft flesh underneath. The couch was beyond uncomfortable, but I found I didn’t care at all when Vince was touching me like this. 

As we made out, his right hand snaked around my back to undo the thin fabric and pull it down my body. I started to slide the kimono off my shoulders to give him more access as well. 

“No.” He said and put his hand on my arm. “Leave it on. My girl wants to play dirty tonight, right?”

I bit my lip and took a deep breath through my nose as I nodded in response.

“That’s what I thought. You want me to fuck you in this then wear it onstage in front of 40,000 people…is that it?” He whispered.

Any and all facade of confidence and calmness I previously had completely melted away at his words. Just the thought of him putting it back on later after these less than wholesome activities to go sing in front of a stadium full of unsuspecting fans had me shuddering in anticipation. He started kissing down my jaw and neck again until he reached my heaving chest. 

“God I love these tits.” He spoke softly. “Especially when they’re filling out this outfit.” He trailed his hand over the kimono once again, down my curves until he reached the part of me dripping with need. 

“You’re lucky I got an extra one of these baby…because you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

#vince neil #motley crue #mötley crüe #the dirt #vince neil x reader #vince neil imagine #vince neil fanfic #vince neil smut #vince neil fluff #vince neil the dirt #the dirt imagines #the dirt movie #the dirt cast #daniel webber #vince neil x you #motley crue imagine #motley crue smut #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfic #sunsetsixx.gif

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

fic recs masterlist pt 2

So here's a part two to my first fic rec list because I thought the first list was too long to add more or I've only read them more recently

Haikyuu!

you're all i see, you're all i need by DailyMelody: iwaoi fic where iwaizumi lies to his family that he and oikawa are dating and he slowly realizes they haven't been faking their feelings, nsfw in the last chapter

Sprout, Bloom, Grow by SpaceJammie: matsuhana and iwaoi fic from the perspective of matsukawa, this is probably my fav hq I'm keeping up with rn, the characterizations and story are so deep and well written, unfinished

Let the Light Out by UhohShouto: post canon kagehina fic where kageyama realizes he's super into hinata and they make a bet that leads to them smooching and doing much more, nsfw

what i really mean by solyn: kuroken fic where they're both sort of clueless about their feelings while everyone else around them knows they're in love, nsfw

it drives you crazy getting old by atsumusbiceps: a sakuatsu 13 Going On 30 au that's absolutely adorable, omi is in love from the beginning but atsumu thinks being angry and attracted to someone is normal

Gray in the Middle. by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey): crazy good sunaosa fic where suna is a model and osamu is his new assistant, the development of their friendship while osamu slowly gets to see the real suna and coming to see the toxicity of the fashion industry, unfinished, future nsfw

Sakusa Kiyoomi's Short and Unhelpful Guide To Falling In Love by honest_pebble: sakuatsu fic where omi asks for atsumu to kiss one drunken night and they can't seem to keep their hands off each other in the months after

i pretend you're mine, all the damn time by theglitterati: bokuaka high school fic where bokuto is nervous about his lack of experience when a girl asks him out so he asks akaashi to help him learn how to kiss, very cute and silly

sleeping with strangers by starbeyy: kagehina fic where kageyama is a lawyer that's afraid of attachment and only sleeps with strangers until he gets an extremely cute client that makes him less afraid, nsfw in later chapters

Take a hint by badreputation: sunaosa fic where suna doesn't realize osamu is trying to woo him and is just an oblivious dummy

i sing the body electric by viverella: iwaoi getting together fic where iwaizumi beings to realize he doesn't have entirely platonic feelings about his best friend

dearly departed by radiantradish: daisuga ghost au where suga is stuck in limbo while he's in a coma and daichi is a firefighter that keeps dreaming about him

Winter is Red by MeikoAtsushi: technically this is the sunaosa spin-off to their original sakuatsu fic but the premise is that osamu can see the red threads of fate that tie soulmates together but he doesn't have one and falls in love with suna anyway, this fic is fucking PAINFUL because osamu is determined to make his life miserable and try to push suna away but he can never stay away for long, nsfw

the posterior probablity by izayas: sakuatsu au where omi is a professor and atsumu is an m.d. who's taking his class and they fall in love lol

SunKissed by Paintbrushyy_Ducky98: bokuaka fic where akaashi's family's new pool boy is really cute and he sort of seems familiar... nsfw

favor from the boy you can't resist by crossbelladonna: bokuaka fic where bokuto asks akaashi to be his fake boyfriend and things go as well as you'd expect

Miles by lettersinpetals: kuroken post canon/during chapter 402.1 fic where kuroo is very aware of his love for kenma but is convinced kenma doesn't feel the same

Night Moves by fluorophoring: kuroken fic where they just keep hooking up at night without actually dating or discussing their feelings, heavy nsfw

What to Do (to You) by Mooifyourecows: iwaoi fic where matsuhana set them up on a blind date despite already being roommates and having crushes on each other, nsfw

take me the way i am by almostsophie1: kuroken fic where kuroo wants to know if kenma is willing to have sex with him just to "practice", nsfw obviously

spill my guts by wasted: bokuaka fic where akaashi is a massive pining simp and doesn't know what to do about his crush

Legend Has It by sifuhotman: sunaosa crime au??? i literally think about this fic all the time and how it's not finished, such an interesting plot with osamu as a detective and suna is a con artist who has connections to some underground crime syndicates, the last chapter posted legit made me cry, i really identify with osamu in this fic, nsfw in later chapters

Miscellaneous

Apple of Your Eye by Kattythingz: sk8 renga fic but it's if Adam became obsessed with Reki instead of Langa, highkey NUTS how good Adam's characterization is because you want to bash his skull in with a hammer

A Crown of Gems and Gold by Kattythingz: fma edling fic that's basically a rewrite of the entire series but if edling got together soon after their first meeting, the best characterization, action, and dialogue ever utilized in writing, unfinished but ongoing

Always an Angel, Never a God by oktsukki: jjk satosugu au where hidden inventory didn't end as bad as they did in canon, a lot of good healing and characterization

lights out by phollie: hxh killugon fic where killua is just very soft about gon as gon shows him around the island he grew up on

Sword of Damocles by orphan_account: mp100 terumob au fic where teruki asks mob out as a joke but he actually starts to fall for him

#please rec me more jjk and bsd i'm begging #haikyuu!! #sk8 #jjk #fic recs #fma #hxh #mp100 #iwaoi #matsuhana #kagehina #kuroken #sakuatsu #sunaosa #bokuaka #daisuga #renga #edling #satosugu #killugon #terumob #jinx talks #jinx reads

[allwaswell16]

Are there any fics where you wish you could go and back read for the first time again?

Ohhhhh, anon. How much time do you have? I'm going to narrow this down into a certain kind of fic. I think there are some fics that had that real slap you in the face moment(s) that I wish I could relive. You can reread the fic, but you can't really relive that moment.

💜 Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse (E, 168k)

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

💜 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere (E, 149k)

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe. //an X-Men AU.

💜 There's Such a Lot of World to See by @crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 125k)

Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time. The boy should be impossible.

Maybe he is.

A love story that defies the boundaries of space and time. Doctor Who AU.

💜 Nothing But You On My Mind by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (E, 83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

💜 The Second Hand Unwinds by @kingsofeverything (E, 51k)

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

💜 And That's The Tea by @2tiedships2 (M, 27k)

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

💜 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou (E, 20k)

In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💜 I Am the Blinking Light by @dearmrsawyer (G, 19k)

There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

💜 Bot (series) by tomlinsunshine / @tornlinsunshine (NR, 11k)

Zayn builds robots; Harry is a big fan of his latest model.

💜 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way by runaway_train / @runaway-train-works (E, 3k)

Harry is well aware he should be studying or watching T.V or cleaning the kitchen or doing literally anything from a list as long as his arm instead of this, but he is. The list of reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this is probably at least double that, but here he most definitely is. He’s sitting on his bed, legs straight out in front of him, back propped up against the headboard and some fluffed-up pillows and his MacBook is resting on his thighs. His jittery fingers drum lightly on the edge of the keyboard as he stares at the tiny digital clock in the top right-hand corner of the screen, willing the seconds to tick by faster. He wants to get into this and get it over with in equal measures.

Or The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfil.

#ficrec #runaway-train-works #creamcoffeelou #2tiedships2 #mercurial-madhouse #crinkle-eyed-boo #kingsofeverything #tornlinsunshine #dearmrsawyer #absoloutenonsense #helloamhere #these all ended up being larry fics #I looked through all my rare pair recs but I just couldn't put my finger on any that gave me quite this feeling #maybe this one lilo one... #but anyway #ask #anon

[wardenannie]

Hi ani! I really miss your levihan fics a lot so I just thought I could maybe drop a prompt for you over here? No pressure if you don't wanna do it, tho, ofc.

So, the prompt would be:

Levi and Hanji end up having comfort sex after a meeting with military higher-ups goes terribly wrong. Hanji discusses over trains and helping develop technology in Paradis, but because they are not the traditional "cis-male" leader, the rests doubts them/puts their ideas down.

Then, when they return to HQ, Levi just fucks them to release the tension/frustrations.

Hope you like itt!

Love you and your writingg <3 <3

Hey friend! I don't really write Levihan anymore, but this prompt is so good I'll make an exception.

Friendly reminder to everyone reading this that my new Ao3 is sapphicoflight and you can find all of my Levihan works there, they are no longer associated with my previous username.

I hope that you enjoy this drabble!!

(NSFW obvs)

-

The infiltration into Marley was a no-go. The meeting with the brass had gone terribly, with the staunch, stubborn old men questioning Hange at every turn, every suggestion. At the slightest sign of weakness in the Commander they pounced, practically throwing the pair out of the room in flat in dismissal.

Hange was devastated and at a loss. Uncharacteristically silent as they and Levi mounted their horses in preparation to leave the capitol.

The uneasiness was palpable in the air between them. The stony silence speaking volumes where the Commander would not speak at all.

It was Levi who spoke first, once they had passed through the inner ring of the city, the dusty streets opening up some and giving him room to ride alongside his Commander.

"Hange..." he began, but he wasn't certain what to say. He wasn't particularly adept with words, and he didn't want to accidentally salt this obvious wound.

Hange shook their head, russet hair flashing like fire in the midday sunlight. They looked over to their captain, single eye alight with fury, but swirling within the wine colored depths of their iris there was also a great, deep sorrow. It shook Levi to see them so shaken.

"If I were a man-" Hange rasped, voice trembling with rage.

Levi swallowed thickly, "Yeah, probably."

Hange spat onto the ground, then dug their heels into their horse's sides, pushing the animal into a brisk trot.

Levi let them go ahead, thinking that some time alone might be in order. He wasn't usually of much help when it came to these sort of delicate matters. Sure, he'd known Hange for years now, he knew them inside and out. Backwards and forwards he could read them like a book. But in matters of gender, of how their sex and mind were misaligned, he was completely helpless.

It hadn't come up in quite some time. Not since before Erwin's death, actually. There hadn't been time to even think about such personal things as the tension with Marley mounted and Eren began to endeavor down a darker, ill-advised path.

But here it was, like it had always been there, lurking beneath the pristine surface of Hange's militaristic facade. It reared its ugly head once more, and Levi wasn't prepared in the slightest for its reemergence.

He wetted his lips, following after them at an ambling pace. Deciding what he would do when they met again at HQ. They would need to regroup, of course, plot another plan of action. But first Hange would need to soothe this fresh hurt; a scar reopened after so many years of mending.

"Tch," he tutted as a child ran across his path chasing a ball. She fell in the dirt on the other side of the road, squealing with delight.

Levi's mouth pursed and he looked away, his own heels now urging his mount forward at a brisker pace.

There was one thing he could do, he supposed. If Hange was amiable to the idea.

They'd come to an arrangement over the years of their partnership. One of... physical proximity and means. They were by no means lovers (except they absolutely were), and Levi derived no real affections from their exertions (except he absolutely did, he was simply unwilling to admit the depth of that emotion).

Sex was easy enough with Hange. They were attractive and coy when they wanted to be. Warm and wet. Body lithe and muscular and inviting. And their voice, he shivered thinking of their low, smooth tones guiding him towards-

Levi shook the thoughts from his head as he dismounted and left his horse to the stableboys. The last thing he needed was to be sporting an obvious erection through the halls of HQ.

When he arrived at Hange's office he did so as inconspicuously as he could manage. Slipping through the door on light feet and letting the latch click behind him. He stood with his back to the door, staring into the space which had once been so neat when Erwin occupied it.

It was trashed. Moreso than usual. It was like a tornado had swept through the room, throwing papers and books here and there and everywhere. The inkwell on Hange's desk was tipped over, a runnel of ink dribbling from the edge of the desk down onto the floor. The chair was tipped over as well.

It seemed as though Hange had passed over the room in their outrage.

"Four-eyes," Levi said with a sigh. He locked the door for good measure and crossed the room to stand in front of his Commander.

Hange shook their head, all of their rage having been exhausted in destroying the office. Now they simply looked bone-tired, with a deep dark circle punctuating their good eye, and defeated. They licked their chapped lips, resting a hand on the solid wooden desk to support themself.

"If I were just a man, Levi," they said, exasperation bleeding in their tone. "Then they might listen to me. Then they would listen to me."

Levi pursed his mouth, "Maybe. Or maybe they've just got shit for brains and it wouldn't matter either way."

"Either way," Hange laughed sardonically.

"You know what I mean."

They sighed, shoulder slumping. Levi righted their chair and they sat in it, pinching the bridge of their nose, "Yeah, I know..."

A beat of silence passed between them.

Then Hange made a pained sound, lip quivering slightly, "They just see me as a loud mouthed woman."

"You're loud-mouthed for sure, shitty-glasses," Levi reassured, "But you sure as hell aren't a woman."

Hange snorted, "Thanks for that vote of confidence, short stuff."

"It's what I'm here for."

Another beast of silence.

Levi kissed his teeth, glancing awkwardly around the room before he shifted forward with sudden intention. He caught Hange by the chin, angling their face upwards so it was mere inches from his own.

"Listen up, Hange," he intoned, low and hungry. The physical proximity was impacting him already. He hated to see them so upset, but he also knew exactly how to take that pain away, if only for a moment. "Those fat shithead bastards know fuck all about you."

"Oh?"

"They don't see what I see when I look at you," he said. "Maybe they do see a woman, but you know what? Fuck that shit."

Hange chuckled then, their breath tickling his lips, "And what do you see when you look at me, captain?"

"My Commander," the strongest person I know, he meant to say, but those words were too delicate, too close to his heart of steel. But Hange seemed to understand, and they saw no need for further preamble when they craned their neck upward and tugged him down by his collar, sealing their lips in a searing kiss.

Levi's steely eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into the kiss, savoring the bourbon taste of Hange on his tongue. He cupped their cheek, then dropped his hand to grip their arm, pulling to their feet and breaking the kiss, but only for a moment as he shifted them and pushed them onto the desk.

He stood between their spread thighs, kissing them with thorough hunger. Heat pooled in his middle, seeping down into his loins where his cock began to stir.

When they parted again their cheeks were flushed, eyes hooded. Both of them tousled from the other's touch. Hange shurgged off their coat while Levi's fingers worked deftly at the buttons of their shirt. Once they were bare save for their breast bindings (which Levi dared not touch), he kissed their throat, their jaw, their collarbones. His fingers pulled at the button of their pants, and they dropped their legs long enough to let the fabric slide away along with their underthings.

"Fuck, Hange," Levi cursed as his fingers slid skillfully through their folds, finding their flesh hot and yielding and wet.

Hange grinned, scooting forward on the desk so that they were perched on the edge. Then they reached out, undoing the button on Levi's trousers.

His cock popped free, heavy and wanting, a bead of precum already pearling at the tip of. Hange gave him a few cursory strokes and he groaned throatily.

"There's the big guy," Hange teased, tugging him forward by his member, they stroked the thick head of him through their folds, wetting him and earning themself another low, needy sound.

"Sh-shut up, four-eyes," Levi rasped, eyelids fluttering at the sensation of his body pressed flush to theirs.

"Levi?" Hange's voice was suddenly pensive, and when he met their single eyed gaze he found their eye wide and uncertain. He backed off slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Shut up," he seized their jaw in his hand and kissed them hungrily. With his other hand he aligned himself with their entrance and sank into their depths with a single thrust of his narrow hips.

They both gasped into the kiss; Levi at the tight, hot, wet depths of his Commander's pussy, and Hange at the sublime stretch of Levi's thick cock.

"Hnn," Levi sighed, setting a slow, easy pace. But it was still enough to earn him a few soft whimpers from his partner, who gripped his clothed shoulders tightly.

Hange pulled themself up as he worked into them, winding their arms around his neck and hiding their face in the crook of his shoulder. They kissed him there, tenderly as he fucked into them.

"Harder," Hange whispered sharply, raising their head head so their teeth grazed the shell of his ear. "Need it hard, Levi."

Levi grunted, acquiescing immediately. He seized their hip in one hand and leveraged himself against the solid wood of the desk with the other. Wet slapping sounds began to fill up the small room, mingling with their gasps and moans in a symphony that anyone beyond the door might chance upon.

Levi fucked Hange hard, and now it was his turn to hide his face in their neck as he rutted himself forward into their depths, feeling every rippling inch of them squeezing around his cock.

He gritted his teeth as he felt them beginning to tighten around him, a fresh wave of wet encompassing him, shining prettily on his shaft with each egress of his hips. Hange's moans turned into soft pleas, their ankles locking at the small of his back. Levi bit his tongue to distract himself from the orgasm that tingled at the base of his spine, tightening his balls and thickening his dick inside of them.

"Levi," they begged breathlessly into his ear. "Levi, Levi, Levi!"

Levi made a muffled sound of rumbling pleasure as Hange fell apart on him. Their seized into a vice like grip around his cock, drawing his own climax from him as Hange howled and pawed at his chest. White flashed behind his eyes and he bit his lip to keep from crying out in tandem with his Commander.

"Shit," Levi cursed as he blinked through the aftershocks. He swallowed thickly, slowly pulling his rapidly softening dick away from Hange. Flesh suddenly frightfully sensitive. He tucked himself away, taking deep calming breaths to steady himself.

Hange had reclined back onto the desk, fingers playing absentmindedly in the spilled ink, cum dribbling down their thighs.

They licked their lips, pupil still dilated with pleasure, "Thank you, Captain."

Levi grunted, "Anytime, Commander."

Hange sat up and pulled Levi into one, final hungry kiss. Then they parted, and began to right themselves.

And they slipped easily back into their stations as though nothing at all had transpired between them.

But Hange's anger and shame were entirely abated. Their wounds licked and soothed. And Levi's mood, the scouts would note, was surprisingly chipper for the rest of the day.

#levihan #my writing #n safe for work

[liyawritesss]

How you doing today love? I've been in my Gojo kinnie era because of this angst fic series I'm reading and MHA has been letting me down lately so imma turn to my HQ boys because they will never let me down.

Can I request the Karasuno Third Years meeting their s/o's parents? Whatever event they meet their s/o's parents is up to you.

ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ

Pairing: Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi x GN!Black!Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to bring the third year Karasuno boys home to your family?

Warnings: reader has both parents

A/N: Hello my love <3 I’m doing alright, cramps are killing me tho :(. I’m sorry MHA aint hitting for you, I haven’t gotten back into it cuz I was waiting for all of s5 to drop but i haven’t gotten back to it yet. I think MHA is coming down from it’s peak hype lmao but this aint the post to talk about that. This is for the Karasuno boys!!

Sawamura Daichi

The Karasuno volleyball team had just got done with practice. You had come to watch the boys and give some help to Kiyoko while she was still trying to find a new manager for the team.

Your parents were coming to pick you up, as it was late at night and you lived a ways away, and absolutely refused to have an exhausted Daichi walk you home when he lived in the opposite direction of you

Your parent’s pulled up to the front of the school and, without thinking, you and Daichi waved at them. Your parents knew you had interest in a boy from your class, but had never pressed any further on the topic - they wanted you to come to them about it in your own time. 

Sheepishly the both of you approached the car, and you introduced the tall brunette to your mother and father. Daichi was polite and sheepish, trying to not make a fool of himself. It was an impromptu meeting, but deep down he was glad that it finally happened. 

Since then, your parents  will sometimes hint about meeting the tall brunette again, under more approrpiate settings, and you’d expertly dodge the question, unsure of how Daichi would take the idea. But to your surprise, he more than agrees, joking that if you two are to marry one day, he doesn’t want the first real meeting of your parents being at the alter.

Sugawara Koushi

You were hosting a pastry stand at the Karasuno school festival, and even with his busy schedule with practice and matches with other schools, Suga was there to help you with the setup of your stand

You appreciated his help greatly, and showed it by giving him kisses throughout his time helping you out. And he absolutely adored your affection, so it was an added bonus for him helping you out.

You’d finally finished setting up everything, you were just waiting for your parents to bring the pastries that had been kept warm at home. You had your arms around Sugawara’s neck, his arms around your waist, just off in your own little world. You hardly notice your parents approaching your stand, and its only when you feel Sugawara stiffen that you turn to see them.

Your mom and dad are holding the containers with your pastries inside, trying not to show that they were flustered by the sight of you and your boyfriend (who they haven’t met, but have heard much about) very close and intimate. 

Sugawara remains stiff and on edge the entire time your parents are there, and probably ends every other sentence with an “I’m so sorry” because this was not the way he wanted to meet your family. And at the remark from your father to one day have dinner together so that he can have a redo, the poor boy flushes bright red.

Azumane Asahi

Your parents were having a small get together at your house, and having heard so much about the boy you were seeing, they suggested you bring him over so that they could meet him formally

Asahi, like in anything, was a nervous wreck. He fretted over what to wear, what to do with his hair, how much cologne he should wear, and most importantly, what to say to your parents when the time came.

If possible he would like to not let go of your hand. He needs you for grounding. This man will die on the spot if he loses sight of you, especially around the parents of the girl he’s dating

At first your folks are skeptical, because due to his older appearance, they think you’re dating some kind of delinquent who was held back. But after straightening out the misconception, they’re more than welcoming to the volleyball player. Your mother marvels at his height, and your dad enjoys talking sports with him.

Though he was nervous the entire night, Asahi’s glad that the inevitable was finally done. He wouldn’t have done it if he truly didn’t love you and didn’t see a future with you. Now all he has to worry about is asking your dad for your hand in marriage. Yup, no pressure at all.

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#black reader #black tumblr #black haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu daichi #haikyuu sugawara #haikyuu asahi #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #koushi sugawara #azumane asahi #asahi azumane #daichi x reader #daichi x black!reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara x black!reader #asahi x reader #asahi x black!reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x black!reader

[kkaewrites]

sugar, spice & everything nice !

ITOSHI KAE . 18

itoshi sae’s, miya osamu’s & haitani rindou’s !

#ITOSHI SAE: “you’re lukewarm.”

main blog : @itoshikae

— where i interact i guess... its my primary blog & i cant change it anym TT

side blog : @fruitymiyas

— shared between my best friend & i. it mostly revolves around sports anime (knb, hq, bllk, etc . . )

wattpad : RlNDOUS / ohsamoos

— currently on a hiatus, mostly ab tokyo revengers [1]

— inactive, mostly ab dc & haikyuu! [2]

— BLUE LOCK !

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

multi-part fics . .

FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

itoshi sae x reader !

fake dating, (slight) enemies to lovers !

parts : one , two , three

GOOD AS STRANGERS

chigiri hyoma x reader !

no strings attached, let’s not fall in love !

parts : one , two

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

one-part fics . .

MISS STRAWBERRY

nagi seishiro x reader !

meet-cute, first kiss, fluff !

REAL OR NOT REAL

nagi seishiro x reader !

meet-ugly, enemies to lovers !

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

time stamps . .

[ 11:45 pm ] — itoshi sae.

[ 10:46 am ] — nagi seishiro.

— MISC !

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

multi-part fics . .

OK THEN, KISS ME

osamu miya x reader !

damsel in distress, meet-cute !

parts : one , two

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

one-part fics . .

THE EVENS & ODDS

haitani rindou x reader !

falling out of love, grovelling, angst !

this blog will now be bllk centric <3 i won’t post fics from other fandoms but i might finish the osamu fic (who knows). i debated on just deleting the posts but i decided to still keep them here :)

@itoshikae / 2022

#kae’s 💭 #kae’s writing . . . #masterlist <3

[konohamaru-sensei]

i was tagged by the lovely @lemony-snickers <3 thank youuuu!! <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

83

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

648.098

3. What fandoms do you write for?

According to my AO3 page that would be Naruto, Fairy Tail, JJK and One piece. Tho I have written for HQ and Bnha behind the scenes (for friends)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Private Tutoring - 627 (Naruto)

what the f-- is an isekai? - 445 (Naruto x JJK)

To build a home - 396 (Fairy Tail)

Fool for Love - 272 (Naruto)

Welcome to the Akatsuki! - 219 (Naruto)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

As often as possible. THere are times when I'm not doing so well and feel a little jaded and then I might just "mark them as read". But usually I leave them in my inbox for a long time before I do that to find it in me to reply. I want to reply to all of themf or sure.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

At the end of "MIrror Image" , that I set up like a Soulmate Au, Obito is dead like he is in canon. wampwamp

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I dont know which would be the happiest. PT maybe? My readers have to decide that. I usually write happy endings because I like them

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I have gotten criticim very early on for a fic that I instantly delted and its been real quiet sinc then.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yeah, a lot lately. I am not a kinky writer (I also dont really read it), so probably the... uh.. "vanilla" kind.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I wrote a Naruto x JJk crossver which blows me away at how popular it is. It was crazy fun so it doing well is a nice cherry on top.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hopefully not Hahah

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, once I think.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! @butter--peanut and me collabed on a fic for the birthday of a friend :)

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I flip flop around depending on hyperfixation, currently nothing makes me tingle with love as much as Fairy Tail's Jellal and Erza

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Started a reader insert story for Buddha from Record of Ragnarok after @kankuroplease and me endlessly talked about how hot he was, but I dont think that will ever lead anywhere lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hm. Set ups?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My dialogues is usally pretty boring. Also I cant do action well at all.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Dont think Ive ever done that, though I can tell you that writing stories in German feels so hard now that I've written so much English.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

When I was 13 I was really into german boybands but if you mean fandom in the more international sense then I started writing Naruto fic in 2008.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Giving you 3 for each of the main fandoms that matter:

Fairy Tail: Innocence dies screaming

Naruto: Hymn for the missing

JJK: The Six Eyed

Both latter two are rather old and probably could use a rewrite, but I very much love them for how they came to be.

I havee nobody to tag so ill taaaaaaaag @butter--peanut aand @akamikazae

#tag yourself #nisi talks tag