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tennessoui · 2 years

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“You always this quiet”, for the prompt. Maybe for the Stacy’s mom au and obi-wan is overcompensating after his word vomit from last chapter.

hey hi hello, love!!! so i couldn't do the stacy's mom au, as i've already written what the beginning of the next chapter will be, but i set this prompt in a similar universe: my og reverse master/padawan au, burn every bridge but please leave me a boat!

this takes place at the very beginning of their master&padawan assignment and it's mostly anakin being very kind to obi-wan, and obi-wan being like 'wow i knew i was prone to deep attachment but this must be a new record.'

(1k)

Obi-Wan Kenobi has been Anakin Skywalker’s padawan for four hours now, and he’s not sure how he’s going to last until he’s Knighted. If he’ll ever be Knighted of course, and that’s a version of the future Master Jinn had seemed staunchly skeptical of.

It’s been four hours since Anakin Skywalker had announced that he’d finish Obi-Wan’s training, interrupting Master Jinn’s speech about why they were ill-suited as master and apprentice (and why he thought that perhaps Obi-Wan may be ill-suited for the Jedi Order as a whole.

“Perhaps it was the will of the Force, for Padawan Kenobi to wield a trowel instead of a saber.”

Obi-Wan’s throat feels awfully tight suddenly. He wonders at the reaction, at the power of some words to nestle into bone and corrupt one’s spine the longer they sit there. It had felt almost impossible to lift his head to meet Master Skywalker’s eyes when he’d stood from his Council seat and moved to stand before him. He’d kept his eyes firmly on the floor, up until the man had knelt down on one knee to look up at him.

It had felt like too much, practically indecent, a master kneeling before a mere padawan, one that wasn’t even all that good at being a padawan.

“I would like to train you,” Master Skywalker had said, the words like a balm of Obi-Wan’s wounds. Spoken low, eyes earnest. Inappropriate already, but that was what Master Skywalker was known for.

It’s been four hours since Obi-Wan has become Master Skywalker’s padawan. He’d been ushered out of the Council Chambers soon after he’d agreed, tucked protectively under his arm in a way that made him feel like a youngling again. He’d never just walked out of the Council Chambers in the middle of a meeting. The sheer level of disrespect in the action kept him quiet for the entire journey to Master Skywalker’s quarters.

Master Skywalker hadn’t been quiet though. His mouth seemed to move as fast as his feet, and Obi-Wan struggled to keep up. He had thought maybe if he fell behind, the Jedi Master would simply pick him up and carry him the rest of the way, which had made twelve different feelings and emotions well up in Obi-Wan, all too dangerous to name.

“It’s a load of bantha shit,” Master Skywalker had told him fiercely. “All of it. Jinn just trying to give you back? For no good reason I heard! And making you listen to all of that! You’ve been a perfectly respectable padawan, I know half the Council thinks so. There’s no way they would have agreed with Jinn and sent you away, Obi, you have to know that. Windu was thinking about training you, I could feel it. But he wasn’t going to interrupt Jinn, and I couldn’t stand listening to any more of that absolute bantha shit.”

Obi-Wan had blinked and then looked at his feet. Master Skywalker’s words seemed too fantastical to be true.

They’d stopped in front of a door, and Master Skywalker had keyed in his code slowly, letting Obi-Wan see without having to ask. Of course. These were his quarters now too. 0459311. Obi-Wan had wondered if the numbers meant anything to the master, but he’d also known that he’d never ask.

So it’s been four hours since he became Master Skywalker’s padawan, and he isn’t sure how he’s going to make it until he’s a Knight. Master Skywalker is so…much. He’s loud, he’s active, he’s…touchy. And he’s raised a padawan just as loud and active and touchy as he is.

Knight Tano had arrived at the quarters an hour ago, letting herself in as if this were still her space, thrown herself down on the couch, and kicked her feet up on the table.

“You always this quiet?” Knight Tano asks, breaking away from her latest bickering with Master Skywalker in order to size Obi-Wan up with her eyes.

Obi-Wan looks at her and fidgets with his empty mug of tea. Master Skywalker had prepared it for him. It’d been the worst cup of tea in the entire galaxy. He’d drank it all anyway.

It made him feel warm.

“Hey, Snips,” Master Skywalker says, voice heavy with warning. “He can be as quiet as he wants to be. It’s been a rough day.”

“You don’t like quiet,” Knight Tano tells him with two raised eyebrows. Obi-Wan sucks in a quick breath at this. If Master Skywalker doesn’t like quiet, then should Obi-Wan be trying to talk more? What if he’s going to lose two masters in the same day? He’d really be a failure of a padawan then.

He’s sixteen. Surely he can hold a conversation with a Master and a Knight. Even if just looking at how casually they interact, how friendly they are with each other makes his throat feel even tighter.

Master Skywalker moves to stand behind him, hand falling to his shoulder and squeezing. The suddenness of the contact makes him want to jump. Master Skywalker’s palm is warm on his skin, and Obi-Wan begins to burn under the weight of it. “I like his quiet,” Master Skywalker announces, squeezing at his neck once more before letting go.

Obi-Wan blinks up at him. His mouth is dry and Master Skywalker’s eyes are very blue and crinklled with warmth. “Thank you, Master,” he murmurs and he means it.

He also has no idea how he’s going to make it to Knighthood. Not without falling in love with his new master, who has been so kind and caring towards him. Who made him tea, even though Obi-Wan is quite sure Master Skywalker has never made tea before in his life. He’d not strained the leaves out.

Obi-Wan had emptied his cup anyway.

He has a very bad feeling about all of this, but when Master Skywalker grins at him from across the room and tells him to call him Anakin, the bad feeling is easy to ignore, just like the ridiculous request. “Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan tells him and raises his empty cup to his mouth to hide his smile at the sound of Anakin’s disbelieving laugh.

#asks #obikin #reverse master/padawan au #this is more like preslash obikin i guess because obi-wan is just beginning to nurse a lil crush #and anakin doesn't really develop any romantic feelings for him until he's 19 #when he's really become slutwan kenobi etc etc #but it was fun to write obi-wan whump

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cherry-shipping · 1 year

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ooooohh i wanna draw me and papyrus having a fun cool besties sleepover. and an additional doodle with sans like i talked about in that one post awhile ago that i cant find for like the life of me

#its somewhere. to recap though me and paps have cute silly bff high school girl sleepovers where we paint our nails and giggle and talk abo #ut our crushes and stuff and its the best #imagining hmi with those hair curler thingies on his skull. htink about it #and then sans is in the room next to us still awake cause he can hear our stupid giggles and hushes whispers and hes like #What The Fuck Are They Talking About In There #this is especially a preslash thing and sans is also my best frienf before all th other stuff but hes not invited #its me and paps ONLY. frisk would be invited but they go to bed at like 8:30 so theres not really any point #ohhhbiy ok i was gonna talk more. but its past 6am and im drunk and i do NOT wanna get in trouble until tomorrow #so um. BYE I HAVE TO GO HIDE IN MY BOX NOW LULZ #cherry chats

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saintsenara · 23 days

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Do you think there’s any situation in which Sirius/Snape could work as a ship if James Potter was alive/around?

I love both Sirius/Snape and Sirius/James (platonic, romantic and everything in between) as ships so I’d love to see a universe in which the 3 of them have a lovely time together but I dunno if I can picture it. I can mainly see Sirius/Snape working with James and Lily dead and Sirius post Azkaban because it really brings him off his pedestal and leaves that shared grief and longing for that intensity of companionship.

I guess part of the problem is trying to imagine Sirius being able to even remotely care about or prioritise someone else with James in the picture, even if James is only giving platonic on his end. But then doubly so if that person was someone James had a massive rivalry with and doesn’t want near his wife. (Although if he knew Snape wasn’t interested in Lily like that maybe he’d chill out about it? Or would only child syndrome kick in and he’d hate him even more for trying to “steal” Sirius from him because it would be really shocking and maybe low key traumatic for James to have any less than 110% of Sirius’ attention…again even if they were only platonic… 🤔)

If it was going to work I could see it maybe more after Hogwarts when they’ve all grown up a bit and James and Lily are wrapped up in their family and Sirius is a bit adrift at adjusting to not being able to have all of James all of the time.

The closest I’ve seen to making something like it work was a fic where Snape was horribly tortured for killing Peter in front of Voldemort to stop him telling the secret and it left him vegetative for years and the Potters cared for him and eventually Sirius took over so they could go live their married lives. I was really interested in where they were going with it and pretty sold on that being a situation in which it could end up all happy families but unfortunately the fic was kinda preslash and stopped before it explored how things would go romantically for Sirius/Snape after Snape regained his consciousness.

Would love to hear your thoughts on any scenarios in which you think the 3 of them could get along swimmingly!

My other thought was maybe if Sirius had been put in Slytherin and James decided to talk his way into Slytherin to be together, they might eventually adopt Snape into their wider friendship group for his dry wit the way they did Remus. I feel like James was waiting his whole life to have both a best friend and his own gang and would make one wherever he was with the best of what he had available (lbr Peter is hardly a stellar pick), and without the “he’s evil because he’s Slytherin” divide they could potentially find the Dark curses Sev knows fun/useful against whoever else they decide to bully instead, might notice in the shared dorm how poor he is and get a pity thing going like they did for Remus’ werewolf issue (which Snape’s pride would hate but he’d probably milk knowing how he was with Lucius?), and if Snape was gay and as devoted to a crush on Sirius as he was to the canon one on Lily and therefore willing to do some wing maning for James with Lily to keep in James and Sirius good graces, it could really cement his value as a pal….and if Snape had other options for well connected friends who could get him out of Cokeworth (picturing Fleamont setting up summer internships for James’ unfortunate looking poor but impeccably mannered pal at Sleekeasys R and D department 🥹) I’m sure Snape would be happy to not bother with the blood supremacist half of his year who want his childhood best friend dead (unless we think he joined to be in with them as a way to keep Lily safe, but I think that would be more a rationale he’d give himself or her later to justify his behaviour) ……..but anyway even if all of this elaborate scenario could happen so that the 3 of them would be pally, I still can’t picture Sirius being able to love/fancy someone more than James if James is right there, even if it’s only platonic on James’ end.

Unless I guess we take a reading of canon that Sirius was so mean to Snape because he fancied him madly and was furious about it, or because he could sense the queerness in him he hated/was being told by family to squash out in himself. Then maybe they’d have a special type of connection that could be powerful in a way Sirius wouldn’t be able to share with a straight James? Would that be enough though for Sirius never see one without the other Black? 🤔

I do think if that was the friendship group and they made Snape the secret secret keeper instead of Peter James and Lily might have lived! (And Snape might have let himself get killed keeping the secret 🥲) …although that said if Peter had an inkling James Potter might go to Slytherin he probably wouldn’t have fought the hat so hard and would have still been in the gang too!

I’ve really gone on a tangent here but yeah so interested in any scenarios you could see it working, I think about this a lot and I love the way you think about HP things! 👏

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

this is a question which i've wondered about for a while, which i'm going to answer with a tentative... yes.

because i do agree with you that one of the things which makes snack-in-the-90s really work is their shared grief over the loss of james and lily [and their shared guilt and desire to punish themselves for the role they each played in their deaths] and how it contributes to them being one of the series' most interesting narrative mirror pairings.

but it's equally true that they're narrative mirrors even without the grief aspect simply because of their mirrored love - whether you wish to interpret this as platonic or not - for one half of james and lily, and the quiet devastation [even though sirius expresses this very differently to snape] they feel when the two pair off.

and so i do think - in a world in which both james and lily survive [i don't think it can be either/or] - there is the potential for snape and sirius to find themselves drawn together by a grief which is less profound than that caused by james and lily's deaths, but is still transformational in a way that i think is often overlooked in fandom: the grief of realising that the person you love doesn't feel the same way.

because i love platonic prongsfoot and platonic snily as much as the next girl, and i think that the grief i'm describing can apply just as much to platonic love as to romantic love.

but i prefer - and, indeed, i'm on the record as being convinced this is the text's actual intention - to read both snape's love for lily and sirius' love for james as romantic.

and - obviously - the intensity of this feeling prevents either snape or sirius getting a grip while they're in their teens [especially if they're both also grappling with the idea that they're not straight - i'm afraid i've never bought the fanon that the wizarding world is more enlightened when it comes to sexuality]. it makes perfect sense that - as you say - it's impossible for the nineteen-year-old sirius to imagine caring about someone the way he care about james, and to convince himself that the only way he can live his life is to spend decades pining nobly from afar, never letting on how much his heart aches.

but one of the great tragedies of the canonical snape and sirius is that they get stuck in a state of arrested development from their lives - essentially - stopping when they're both twenty-one. there's an inherent pettiness to their interactions in canon - the obsessing over schoolboy experiences, the fact that snape finds himself stuck at school and sirius finds himself stuck in his childhood home - which other characters clearly don't quite understand [dumbledore saying to harry at the end of order of the phoenix that sirius was too sensible to be goaded by snape seems dismissive in the context of what we - the readers - have seen, but it makes perfect sense that - from dumbledore's perspective - a thirty-six-year-old man wouldn't still care about playground beef from twenty years ago.]

in a world where james and lily live, snape and sirius get a chance to act their actual ages - and with that, sirius gets to learn how to accept that his role in james' life will change as his best friend settles into being a husband and father and snape either gets to learn how to stop pining for lily from afar or how to start trying to make amends for his treatment of her.

and james and lily also get to grow up too - to recognise how their priorities towards their friends will change as they form a family of their own and to see their school days [and their behaviour during them] more objectively the further removed from them they become. james at eighteen would rather die than have anything less than 110% of sirius' attention. james at thirty has other things to worry about.

i think that it would only work in a scenario where snape and sirius encountered each other again after having left hogwarts [i like the slytherin!james suggestion - and i'd be interested to see how you'd write it - but i personally think that there's no way on earth james is having snape anywhere near him until he's - for want of a better term "won" their rivalry over lily]. but i also think it would only work if that scenario was decades after they graduated, rather than years, and that the two don't meet again until they're - at least - in their early forties.

i think you could do something really quite interesting with james in that setting - as he realises, as his children reach adulthood and start to fly the nest, that sirius is chronically single and decides the project he wants for his middle age is to find his friend true love.

never expecting that his friend will bail from a date he arranges with a lovely woman and end up hiding in the leaky cauldron talking to snape - but then being mature enough [after some running around screaming "snape? snape?" at lily] to think that if sirius is happy, then he is.

and on this point, both sirius and snape canonically struggle to be realistic about how they see themselves and their worth - for example, in how they both refuse to believe that they could successfully atone for their roles in causing james and lily's deaths. when this is combined with the fact that sirius grew up in a community which is obsessed with blood and lineage - and how that blood and lineage is continued - and snape grew up with his primary masculine role-model being a violent man who was presumably also a homophobe, i do think that both of them would find it difficult to be open about their sexuality, especially since - in a world where they get to live normally after 1981 - they would be starting to understand themselves as queer during the aids crisis [which i refuse to believe doesn't impact the wizarding world, because i loathe the implication of canon that wizards are resistant to muggle diseases].

i think you can plausibly write them as both still in the closet in the 90s/00s - and for sirius especially to be worried about james' reaction if he found out he was interested in men. [which is a dimension often left out of things which examine sirius as queer and james as straight. lots of queer men worry - sometimes unnecessarily, sometimes, sadly, justifiably - that being open about their sexuality with straight male friends will cause those friends to back off from their platonic relationships due to a homophobic fear that queer men will automatically interpret platonic physical and emotional intimacy as romantic.]

but - whatever else he is - james clearly isn't a bigot. and i think he could once again get over the fact that sirius has shacked up with snape [snape?] in order to be proud that sirius was finally comfortable with who he is.

[and yes, i do genuinely think that sirius and snape's canonical vibe can be read as having some level of sexual attraction in it - they are both just so obsessed with each other that it's giving "why do i have this hyper-intense need to get in this other boy's face oh wait that's why"...]

#asks answered #asenora meta #asenora's opinions on ships #starprince #snirius #sirius black #severus snape

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ao3feed-jonmartin · 11 days

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what a drag to love you like i do

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FE4SjO3 by martinimartini Martin squinted as he routinely cleaned his glasses on the end of his jumper, trying to make out who opened the door so gently. The blurry figure stood, dark skin against a loose green outfit. “Hold on, let me— My glasses are foggy.” “I’m afraid I’ll only make it worse.” Huffed the figure. “Can I stay?” “You… are you asking?” “Yes, Martin, I’m asking.” Jon’s tone was almost that of fond exasperation. Martin paused, and then nodded. “Yeah, of course. Don’t really wanna be alone anyway,” Words: 5156, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Pre-The Unknowing (The Magnus Archives), First Kiss, Last Kiss, ooh yeah baby we got parallels, Trans Martin Blackwood, Autistic Martin Blackwood, wooohoooo, Past Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker - Freeform, Autistic Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Mechanisms Were Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist's College | University Band, Background Melanie King - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, tbh this fic was an excuse to write jon and martin preslash rambling, and some insane timmartin angst cuz i loooaaauve them, Angst, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, not important nor relevant nor mentioned but u should know shes transfem TO ME!! read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/FE4SjO3

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tma #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin fanfic

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swissmissficrecs · 1 year

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Underrated Fics, Part 18

It’s been almost a year since my last batch of underrated fics, so I’ve got a good crop to share this time. Criteria:

- Fic is complete - Minimum 10K word count (with wiggle room) - Last chapter posted prior to November 1, 2022 - Fewer than 150 kudos as of this post - “Favorited” by me on AO3

(Previous underrated lists here)

In order of length:

1. I can’t imagine why this hasn’t been picked up by the masses yet. Just look at that summary and tell me it isn’t what you want to read right now!

A Scandal at Paladia by disfictional (34K, E, Johnlock) An ill-fated visit to Uncle Rudy's drag bar unlocks a memory of John's past- a memory that wreaks havoc on their sex life. John has a secret, and Sherlock is determined to solve the case.

2. Yes, there is major character death but also time travel, soulmates, and devastatingly hot sex:

Come Back to Me by BenAddictViolaBatch (21K, E, Johnlock) A fusion of Sherlock and the classic 1980 film, "Somewhere in Time." In 1945, young army doctor John Watson receives a brief and mysterious visit from an elderly scientist, Sherlock Holmes. Intrigued, John researches Holmes and learns that he died on the same night of the visit. He becomes fascinated by Holmes's renowned work in criminology and his secret obsession with time travel. When he encounters a photograph of a young Holmes, he is instantly and deeply enamored, realizing that they are destined for each other.

3. An intriguing series 4 fixit casefic that delivers on the emotions:

The Slow Dance and Death of a Carbon Copy by batslikepastel (15K, T, Johnlock, Warstan) He hasn’t talked to Sherlock outside the bedroom since that first night. Today, though, when Sherlock painstakingly makes John’s favourite breakfast- eggs benedict- he smiles delightedly and kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Mary.” The first sign of delusion.

4. For those who want to see what Sherlock got up to during his time away, you can’t get more intense than this:

Serbia by BeautifulFiction (13K, T, Gen with Johnlock undertones) He could not return to John knowing this mess remained unfinished. He could not return to London and expect forgiveness if the ruse had no reason.

5. Deeply thought-provoking philosophy couples with exquisite narrative tension in this soulmate-esque apocalypse AU:

Learning the Heart by Calais_Reno (11K, T, Johnlock) An android tries to understand love and grief.

6. An exciting, snarky zombiefic with simmering Johnlock feels:

Haemophilia by kaasknot (10K, T, Johnlock) It started at Baskerville. A leaky pipe, a faulty experiment left to seed by an absent scientist; in the end, it didn't matter. What mattered was that an epidemic spilled through the medical halls of Baskerville, and no one knew the cause—or how to treat it.

7. This fic might look hardcore, but it’s really fascinating with a gentle, calming vibe. Not exactly Johnlock (yet), but the spark is definitely there:

Fit to Be Tied by Kameo (10K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes is ever on the lookout for new experiences, and for the first time he is exploring BDSM play at a tasting being held at a local dungeon. He has no idea what to expect but it certainly wasn't a rope-tying army doctor.

8. A tidy casefic/series 4 fixit with preslash setup for more:

The Adventure of the Solicitor’s Mansion by aTangledSkein (9.8K, Johnlock, M) Set post Season 4, this is an update to ACD's "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange." John is questioning his relationship with Sherlock and wrestling with his own demons.

#rec list #underrated

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vermin-disciple · 10 months

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[PODFIC] The Spy Who Robbed Me

Summary: Julian's dress uniform has mysteriously vanished. He has his suspicions about who might have stolen it. (Garak/Bashir, preslash, rated: T)

So I've been listening to a lot of podfic while I do yardwork lately. (And I've been doing a fuckton of yardwork over the last couple months.) Whenever I go on one of these podfic binges I always end up thinking, 'I should really take another stab at recording some podfic myself,' before promptly chickening out.

BUT somehow the anxiety stars have aligned and I actually got one posted this time!

The choice of fic was largely motivated by it being the right length (short but not too short), and not quite as dialogue heavy as some of my others. And I went with one of mine because I thought if I started with someone else's I'd probably fall into a fit of perfectionism and end up re-recording every sentence multiple times.

The AO3 link includes streaming and download options through both Archive.org and Soundcloud.

#nothing will make you question your pronunciation of random words quite like recording podfic #podfic #my podfic #my fanfic #star trek #ds9 #garashir #fanfic #vermin rites #SoundCloud

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wiredaughter · 2 months

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day 5: anxiety

Fight or Flight

john doe×bruce wayne ♡ hurt/comfort ♡ pov second person ♡ anxiety attack ♡ preslash ♡ ao3

Saturdays. He always comes earlier on Saturdays, so you make sure to clear your scrapbooking away on time. You mean to surprise him with it, but it’s not yet ready, so by the time four in the afternoon rolls around your desk is empty in the least suspicious possible way. So four o’clock comes, and goes. It’s only natural, he’s a busy man. You pace your room, not unhappy but ticked off some; lately you find yourself missing him and then recriminating yourself for missing him. It’s a cycle that only works you up.

By four twenty three your desk has a couple of notebooks lying on it, and a textbook. Idle on your wait, you’ve created a likely decoy for a man that’s not here. You exhale, falling back into bed, He’ll be here. He said so last time. He’ll be here. You pace, repeat those words to yourself like a mantra, one you can’t stop poking holes into. For all his words, his intentions, he’s got no good reason to be here. After all you’ve done to each other, even if he’s put it behind him it doesn’t tell you he hasn’t put you behind, too. People move on.

You’ve thought yourself into a cloud of despair and chased it away a couple times before he finally makes it, at fifteen to five. He calls your name before opening the door, and you’re on your feet in an instant, smiling. He's here, and it's like nothing can get you down now. He’s apologetic, just got back to Gotham and came as soon as he could, and you appreciate that. You appreciate that, you do. You really must be the bane of his life, getting him back to the city in the middle of a potential merger. He doesn’t accuse it, instead getting you to explain what you’ve got up to in occupational therapy, and you manage to shove those thoughts to the back of your head where they belong.

It’s not until his phone rings and he excuses himself because he absolutely has to take this, giving your arm a quick touch before he exits for the hallway, that you find yourself unable to keep them away. He’s got a perfectly okay life without you, you’re nothing but a remnant of a past he’s let go of with no problem. You’re holding him back. The realisation is like a blade to your chest, and you feel your heartbeat picking up. You’re keeping him from the life his friends, his real friends, want him to live. You fold on yourself as you feel nausea raise up your throat. You need to tell him it’s alright, you need to tell him you’ll be fine. Will you be fine? You need him, more than that, you want him with you, in ways you've got no right to want of him. No right, and still the want eats at you in hysteric bursts. Three things you can see, you remember from therapy, things you can see. You see your unfinished game of cards on the table, you see… your own shaking hands and you see him.

‘John? Are you alright?’

He’s here, he’s done with his phone call and he’s here, seeing you freak out over nothing, and this is not what you planned, and… he’s asked you a question, he did. You shake your head before you realise what you’re doing, then nod hesitantly. There’s movement on your peripheral vision, and he’s crouching in front of you. Close. Too close. You wish he’d get even closer. Closer.

‘Just breathe with me, will you?’ His arm moves up and down like marking a tempo and weird as it is it does help to follow its rhythm. You grab his hand midair and pull it to your chest in a movement that feels as instinctual as a reflex, whine low on your throat. ‘I’m sorry.’

He squeezes your fingers, bringing his other hand to cup your face. ‘You don’t need to apologise-’

‘I do.’ Your voice is quiet but firm, and you’re standing up to get away because you’re not going to be able to say your piece this way. ‘I need to, because I’m making your life more difficult, and I made you cut your trip short, and even though you keep trying to be my friend I cannot be the kindof person you should be friends with, and I never will! Because you keep trying and I cannot be-’ You cut yourself short when he catches your hands where you’re throwing them in the air in wild gestures, bring them down to a relaxed hold between your bodies. You sigh, concluding; ‘I should be better.’

‘I don’t need you to be. I don’t need you to be anything but what you are.’ You give him a sullen look and he, unbelievably, smiles. ‘Do you feel like I should be something else?’

You shake your head no. ’That’s different, though, you’ve got no reason to. I ruined everything. I ruin everything.’

‘Don’t I?’ His thumb slides over the raised scar on the back of your hand where his batarang went through. ‘I hurt you, I lied to you.’

The memory of the violence settles something inside of you, and you finally meet his gaze. The sadness in it takes you aback. ‘I tried to kill you.’

‘I know. We’re both changing, but that’s only natural. I don’t need you to be anything but what you are.’

His level voice leeches your anxiety away, and you’re stumbling forward to hide your face in his chest. His arms come to wrap around you and you’ve missed him so much. You allow yourself to acknowledge that, even if you can’t get the words through your mouth. You hope you’re being evident enough without having to voice it.

#marchofpain2024 #telltale batjokes #whump

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dinluke-ao3feed · 12 hours

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Wild Mynock Chase

Read it on https://archiveofourown.org/works/55376785 by pixie_rings Din Djarin winds up captured, along with Cobb Vanth, by Cad Bane. Luke Skywalker, determined to get his husband back, winds up on a merry chase across the galaxy, in a reluctant team-up with an old enemy: Boba Fett, ex-bounty hunter turned daimyo of Tatooine. They'll need to call on some old faces in order to finally catch up with Cad Bane and put a stop to him once and for all. Words: 16216, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 11 of A Softer Epilogue Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV), Star Wars: The Book of Boba Fett (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Boba Fett, Cobb Vanth, Cad Bane, Hondo Ohnaka, Latts Razzi, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Asajj Ventress, Grogu | Baby Yoda, Ezra Bridger Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Rescue Missions, Established Relationship, Minor Boba Fett/Cobb Vanth, (it's preslash really), Cameos, So Many Cameos, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

#dinluke #lukedin #din x luke #luke x din #skydalorian #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfiction

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 6 months

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Mythology: Character A is an immortal being/god and Character B is the only mortal who’s interacted with them in centuries.

This is turning into more of a Trope-tember/tober/vember but that's what happens sometimes. 😆 I had to cut this one off because I was afraid it would go from 1K to 10K really quickly. I may revisit again though if I have more time.

The idea is that Guillermo is an archeologist studying ancient religions, and Nandor is a god who hadn't quite moved on.

The Power of an Offering

Ship: Nandermo (Preslash)

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1010

He was Nandor. Nandor, god of Relentlessness. And if there was one thing Nandor did well, it was…not relent. So as centuries passed, turning his beautiful temple, once the jewel of Al Quolanudar, to ruins, Nandor remained.

Once the world was full of gods and god-like beings. Each served their own purpose in the world, and sometimes depending on what that service was, they were praised by the mortals. Temples built in their honor, wars raged in their names, prayers sobbed into their ears. That was many centuries ago. Most of the so-called ‘well known’ gods were dead now. Killed by the very mortals that claimed to love them. The rest scattered to the wind. Hiding away to lick their wounds. Nandor didn’t know how many of his kind remained.

Nandor missed the days of warriors and kings bowing before his feet in the hope of outlasting the next battle, the next opponent, the next day. However, things weren’t so bad. Every morning, he rearranged the sand piles, trying to straighten up but not dislodge the scorpions or vipers of their homes. By the afternoon, he would go down to the underground library to read from the scrolls that hadn’t crumbled to dust yet. And in the evenings, he found himself staring up in the gaping hole at the center of his temple to look at the stars. It was a meager routine for a god, but Nandor had found immortality had worn on his ability to care. For the first time in his long, long life, he started to wonder what would happen if he just…relented? Not even a full twenty-four hours after having that thought, something new wandered into his life.

“Guillermo! Get over here! I think we found something.”

Nandor watched the humans that walked on the roof of his temple gather near the hole somehow managing to shine their concentrated torch light down towards him. Nandor hid behind one of his pillars, watching with narrowed eyes. He has dealt with looters before. They quickly and fatally learned the definition of relentless at the hands of the warrior god.

“I think this is it! Let’s get some ropes to lower me down.” Another voice declared.

Nandor slunk back into the shadows, retrieving his scimitar as he waited for his prey to enter his realm. Then he waited, and he waited, and he waited some more. Honestly, he was about to go up there and check things out for himself. What exactly was taking so long? When finally, a form was lowered into his domain. Nandor couldn’t help but stare at the surprisingly wonderfully plump man with some sort of odd glass lens on his face. When Nandor had been offered concubines and human sacrifices that he allowed to live if they served him, he always had a tendency to prefer the heftier ones to the skinny ones.

He still could cut the ropes and watch the human thief fall to his death. However, Nandor found himself hesitating. Perhaps the human didn’t intend to steal from him. He really hoped this human didn’t intend to steal from him.

“I’m down. I’m going to take off the harness now.” The human called up to his human friends after reaching Nandor’s temple.

He undid the ropes surrounding his body, disappointing Nandor to a certain extent, before using his bright torch. Nandor became one with the shadows, keeping himself hidden from the blinding light. Seriously, it was like the human was carrying around a mini sun with that thing.

“Wow,” The human breathed. “The temple of Nandor, the Relentless god.”

Nandor has always called himself ‘god of Relentlessness’ but he supposed that worked too.

“I don’t know if you’re still here, Nandor.” The human continued to speak.

Nandor perked up at being addressed.

“But I thought it would be better to bring an offering just in case. The legends say you’re a warrior god who kills anyone who invades your realm without permission, so I thought I should play it safe.”

Nandor didn’t care for the laughing tone the human seemed to have while making his speech, but he would forgive it under the circumstances. He was about to receive an offering! After all this time.

“I don’t know what’s traditional in this case, but I do have this loaf of bread…”

The meager meal, that would have been an insult a mere couple of centuries ago, was laid on the offering table. Immediately, Nandor could feel power surge through him again. He released a sigh, extinguishing the overly bright torch as he lit his own surrounding the room. The human jumped in fright shouting to the humans who lowered him in. Well that certainly wouldn’t do. Some of his powers restored, Nandor created a sandstorm. He could hear the humans above shouting and running away, leaving their friend behind. Typical humans. Nandor’s human was frightened though, and Nandor didn’t want him to be. Especially not after receiving such a wonderful gift.

“What is your name, Bread Man?” He purred.

The human whipped his head around, trying to pinpoint Nandor in the shadows. He held his mini torch as one would a sword, ready to attack at any moment. Good! Nandor loved warrior servants. And that’s just what he was going to do. Turn this human into the first of his new disciples.

“My name is Guillermo. Guillermo de la Cruz.”

“Guillermo.” Nandor tasted the name on his tongue, loving the way it made the human shiver. “Yes, it is decided then.”

“What’s decided?! What’s going on?”

Nandor waited until the human was facing him once more before materializing before him. Guillermo gasped, the torch falling from his numb hands as he stared at Nandor in a state of total reverent shock. At least Nandor assumed it was reverence that caused his mouth to drop and cheeks to pink.

“I have decided…to choose you to serve me. I am Nandor, God of Relentlessness! And you, Guillermo de la Cruz, shall be the greatest warrior ever known once I’m through with you.”

#wwdits #nandermo #tropetember #mythology #basically the vampires are gods

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consistentsquash · 1 year

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HP Fic Recs! Snapecase Sunday!

Check out Snapecase! The fest is still going on. Lots of Snape centric fics/art! I didn't get the time to read everything but I got some recs from my reading. Definitely check out the fest for yourself.

5 fav fics with 5 different vibes.

Candles Lit Against the Dark

Pairing - McGonagall/Grubbly Plank.

Length - 11000 words

Vibe - Feel good with a happy ending. BANTER!!!!

Author's summary - It's been a few months since Minerva's retirement, and she'd promised Wil a dinner out. Before she knows it, friends start turning up on her doorstep and then at the pub, not least among them a certain spy who came in from the cold.

Rec - READ THIS! The longest fic of the fest iirc. But also the best! My favorite fic of 2023 so far!! Don't miss this fic! I love literally everything about it. The prose, the really sharp banter, the characterizations, the dynamics of their relationships. A lot of times we get to see the postwar setting when stuff is really raw or when they sort of got over it. This fic has a really low stakes premise of a retirement party but the undercurrents of their history/war is super present. The writing has this really precise balance where it feels light but it is at the same time dealing with tons and tons of complicated PTSD and messy baggage. ALSO SNARRY! Technically background Snarry but not really. It's right in your face. McGonagall's face I mean! :D :D ALSO THE BANTER! Sorry but not sorry! This is an ALL CAPS SCREAMING fic. Some real Seinfeld moments with the sharp banter.

Vibe quote

Wil wasn't a smirker, but it was a near thing. "Not that our dear old Skunk isn't capable of riding a bucking broom into the nearest cloud all on his own, but I did put the wind up his bristles. The therapeutic effects of working with the herd get raised now and then when we're out on the hillside and Severus is in a receptive mood. Harry being one of our lad's personal Boggarts – not that that's ever been a secret – I thought it worth mentioning his recent distress. Divorce and all. Gave my opinion that somebody ought to nudge the lad into beneficial activity."

Rec note - the fic that made me late for work. No regrets.

Womb

Pairing - gen, Phineas POV

Length - 2900 words.

Vibe - Angst with a happy ending. GENDER!!!

Author's Summary - Phineas revisits the question of legacy.

Rec - a solid premise of Found Family with a twist like A Christmas Carol. Phineas thinks his legacy is over because Sirius is dead. But he starts to accept legacy isn't about blood and "adopts" Snape. I mean. Sort of. Technically he saves Snape. I mean. It's complicated! Read it read it read it!!!! OMG!!!! It's a beautiful and eerie fic with lots of unforgivable magic which you forgive anyway because the motive is love. Also lots of gender. Definitely be careful with this fic if you have some gender dysphoria. It has a lot of detach/remove and some really clever techniques to kind of abstract the harder stuff so it doesn't feel dysphoric but these things can be YMMV. Phineas POV! He is super hard to sympathize with because he's pretty much into the purity thing. But you can definitely see where he is coming from and why/how he changes. ALSO SNARRY PRESLASH??

Rec note - So this fic has some serious Giger vibes. Giger designed the chestburster Alien in the Alien franchise. A strange combo of gender imagery.

Vibe Quote

And out came bursting a stick-shaped, sour-shaped man, bawling as only a newborn could, naked as something sprung from the mother, with pigment smearing him in afterbirth.

Some Semblance of Family

Pairing - gen, Eileen POV

Length - 2200 words.

Vibe - Angst with Glass Onion vibes!

Author's Summary - Eileen returns to Prince House on familial business.

Rec - Hardcore Snape fam angst. Really brilliant/sharp Eileen characterization. Love the character study. Also really loved the world building in the fic! Shortfic but does a lot with the word count! It's going to break your heart.

Vibe quote

Eileen realised that her great uncle was right, that she was wrong, that she had allowed hope, as usual, to poison her, and with a bitter, eldritch shriek, she began unburdening herself of her own searing disappointment.

The Watched Pot

Genfic with Snape POV.

Length - 2100 words.

Vibe - Angst!

Author's Summary -In the aftermath, Severus has no plan other than a potion.

Rec - I don't want to spoil the fic because the suspense is a big part of this fic. It's a brilliant Snape POV fic with super sharp characterization of Eileen and her relationship with her son. Heartbreaking. But ofc it's Snape. That's his thing!

Vibe Quote

"It's an old wives' tale, you know," Eileen says. "What is?" "That a watched pot never boils. Eventually, with enough time and heat, everything boils."

It was Magic

Pairing - Tobias/Eileen

Length - 1100 words

Vibe - SCHEMING!

Author's Summary -Tobias and Eileen's wedding day is the result of a magical connection.

Rec - OMG! This fic! Tobias and Eileen are big little liars!! Lots of intrigue/mystery/complicated motives. But you also feel for them and also feel really scared for their future/Snape's future. Super sharp writing which keeps you guessing nonstop!

Vibe quote

It's a small wedding because neither Tobias nor Eileen have any family, at least, that's what they've told each other.

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mistysharks · 1 year

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Five times Steve walked in on Eddie and Chrissy (and one time they walked in on him)

Read on Ao3 Rating:M Pairing: Hellcheer + Stedissy (preslash)

The first time it happens, nobody is to blame. Not really.

They're minutes away from their final showdown with Vecna, dressed in the finest battlegear the army surplus can provide, and for the first time since all of this started, Eddie and Chrissy are alone.

She's the one to take the initiative, getting up on her tiptoes, cradling Eddie's face with a hopeful look. And listen, though a stolen RV has never been on Eddie's list of top five making out spots, he is not letting this opportunity slip him by. He meets her half way, hopes that his breath isn't as disgusting as he imagines, and finally, finally, he catches her lips in his.

It is meant to be a kiss for luck, perhaps a promise of more, later, if there is to be such a thing as later. With a hitched breath and a fist in his shirt, though, Chrissy quickly turns up the heat.

It's definitely fueled by the adrenaline of the looming danger, as well as the days they've just spent circling each other, quick touches and searching looks finally reaching its apex in soft gasps and little moans as Eddies confidence builds and he lets himself be just a little bit greedy, a little bit pushy, pulling her bottom lip in between his and biting down. If the noise she makes is anything to go by, Chrissy does not mind that in the slightest and Eddie has just enough time to think how the hell did I get this lucky before-

Before the door to the RV opens, followed by a very surprised looking Steve Harrington, arms full of molotov cocktails, makeshift spears and god knows what else. There is a brief moment of frozen confusion, followed by a loud squeak from Chrissy as she hides her face against Eddies chest, and an awkward laugh from Eddie himself, before Steve finally turns on his tail with a mouthed ”sorry” over the shoulder before he shimmy's the door back closed with his hip.

As fist kisses go, though, Eddie still thinks it was pretty fucking fantastic.

The second time, however, it just might be Eddie's fault.

The thing is – he's only just out of the hospital, battered and bruised but back on his feet, finally , and Chrissy is a god-damned dream in her oversized jumper, biting her lip and asking if maybe they can do this thing in like, a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of way, and jesus, he's only a human man, all right?

You can't really blame him for forgetting the fact that Steve is still right outside, grabbing their bags from the car. And it's Chrissy, actually, that encourages them down on the sofa, straddling him in that suddenly-confident way that he still isn't quite used to from her, but loves.

And... yeah, maybe he loses track of anything and everything for a moment, letting his hand snake up her shirt to cop, just like, a smidgeon of a feel in the exact same moment that Steve clears his throat from the very much still open (oops) trailer doorway...

So yeah, maybe, totally, absolutely Eddie's bad, that one.

Anyway...

The third time it happens, they blame it on the alcohol. Well, that, and the fact that Chrissy's parents absolutely hate Eddie, and Wayne has been... hovering a bit since the whole near-death thing, so alone time has been... hard to find, to say the least.

So when they get a little too tipsy during a barbeque at Steve's the upstairs bathroom starts looking more and more like the perfect solution to all their problems.

If they had been less drunk, they might have remembered that after everything, their merry party has developed a tendency to worry. Steve, especially, with his mother hen fussing and guard dog vigilance.

It would be sweet, really, if it hadn't manifested in a knock on the door at the exact moment Eddie gets his first, proper taste of Chrissy. She's leaning on the sink, one of her legs up on his shoulder, fingers gripping onto the porcelain behind her, her breath hitching in surprise as he stills against her.

”Everyone ok in there?” Comes Steve's voice, soft and only slightly concerned and Eddie... Eddie should answer. Should pull his face away from between her legs, make some excuse since he is the less compromised of the two of them, and let Steve be on his merry way.

Buut...the thing most people forget about Eddie is that he's kind of an asshole, when it comes down to it. And he really, really doesn't want to stop. So, he doesn't do any of that. Instead, he pushes a little closer, lets his tongue move again, tentatively, leaving some room for Chrissy to pull him off, but no protest comes. In fact, she tightens her grip keeping him in place and – fuck, he likes her so much.

After a moment of almost-silence, the knock comes again.

”Guys?”

”Fine!” Chrissy answers, a little too loud, as Eddie pushes his tongue lower, dipping inside. ”Totally- totally fine. Be- ah- be down in a minute!”

There's a moment of silence on the other side as Steve's tipsy mind must be processing, before..

”Oh my god, really?” He says, and Eddie can hear his eye roll through the goddamn door. Steve leaves after that though, with a muttered ”All right, all right, have fun I guess” but to be honest, Eddie's kind of stopped listening.

And Chrissy? Well, she's not complaining.

The fourth time it happens, it is absolutely Chrissy's fault.

Because Eddie's determined to be good, ok? Sexual frustration and the lack of privacy be damned, Steve let them stay over out of the goodness of his heart. Which means no funny business in his guestroom. Because they're friends now, and friends don't have sex in their friends beds, right? That's.. bro code, or whatever.

What he hasn't accounted for, of course, is Chrissy. With her wandering hands and inviting lips and absolutely filthy whispers - Jesus H Chris t- and Eddie's morning wood is right there Ok?

What is he supposed to do, tell Chrissy no, I don't think I would like a blowjob today, thank you very much? Yeah, no chance.

Thank god for Steve's giant, fluffy comforter being able to obscure most of what was happening below it though, because of course theyve barely gotten started when the man himself casually sticks his head through the door.

”Hey guys, I'm gonna have to clear out in a bit, gotta drive Robin to school” he says, casual as anything, toothbrush still in hand and Eddie.. Eddie's forgotten what a normal face is supposed to look like. In fact, now that he thinks about it, it is entirely possible that he's never made a normal face in his life.

Meanwhile, though she's mercifully stopped the bobbing motion of her head, Chrissy's tongue is still very much actively moving on him and ah – this is revenge for the bathroom incident, isn't it? Shit.

”Yeah, uh, ok!” Eddie manages to bite out as her tongue swirls gently around the head of his dick ”be- be right there?” followed by what is probably the most deranged smile ever to grace his face, and … finger guns? Fuck .

”Cool. Robin made some waffles if you want to grab them on the way out,” Steve continues, voice still normal as he indicates with the toothbrush in the direction of the kitchen ”they're a bit burnt but still pretty good”

He retreats from the doorway after that, giving Eddie exactly a second of relief when he thinks that maybe, maybe they're in the clear, before Steve stops the door with his hand just as it is about to close, sending one last smirk Eddie's way.

”Oh, and don't last too long, will you? Don't want to be late.”

Aaah yeah, ok, he definitely knows.

In the end, Eddie gets there there embarassingly quickly, before spending the entire rest of the morning shovelling burnt waffles into his mouth because fuck if he's meeting anybody's eyes today.

The fifth time, they are really fucking careful, ok? And... perhaps that is the problem.

He's convinced Wayne to head out for the night with his drinking buddies, and Chrissy's lied to her parents about staying over at Robins, and the walkie is turned off, the phone is unplugged, the door to the trailer is locked, and they are doing this.

By the end of the night, Eddie is going to be a virgin no more, or he is going to die trying. Which isn't a very romantic sentiment, sure, but it makes Chrissy laugh when he says it so...

And it starts off so well! A romantic pizza dinner (because fuck you and your enforced diets, Laura Cunningham), soft kisses on the counter, a movie half watched as they make out on the sofa, lazy kisses turning passionate as the tension builds.

They take their time removing each other's clothing, kissing scars and tattoos alike, giggling and gasping and breathing each other in, and …. It's perfect. So perfect that when she finally tells him she's ready, rising up on her knees before sinking down on him, inch by inch, it takes every ounce of his self restraint to stop him from blowing his load right then and there.

Slowly, they build up a rhythm, foreheads touching and hands entertwined and fuck- Eddie thinks that maybe death is on the table after all because jesus christ- and then-

And then a voice emerges from just outside the trailer, causing both of them to freeze mid-motion.

”I bet he's just asleep or something, Jesus Henderson, calm down-” it's Steve's voice. Of course it's Steve's voice. Followed by the unmistakable jingling of keys in the door and suddenly Eddie remembers, with startling clarity, that he's given his spare keys to Steve. In case of emergencies. Like perhaps if one of them went awol and... unplugged their phone. Ahh Shit.

In the seconds they have before the door opens, they manage to share a look, both horribly aware that there is no way in hell they're going to get out of this situation in a dignified manner – at least Chrissy's skirt is covering her somewhat – and then the door opens.

Outwards, thank fuck, and perhaps Steve had learnt something from all their previous... encounters, because he only opens it a smidgeon, sticking his head in, not leaving any room for any of the gaggle of children undoubtedly behind him to see. Eddie sends a quick prayer of thanks to god, satan, jesus, whoever is listening for that, and also for Steve, who takes one look at them – meeting Eddie's deer in the headlights look with his own identical one, before he slams the door shut.

”Steve what the hell?” Henderson exclaims, cut off by Steve's strangled sounding voice-

”DEAD RACOON”

”what?”

”There's a dead racoon in there. Could- could be a health hazard. Your parents would kill me if I let you close to it. Also, actually, haha, funny story I just remembered Eddie told me he was going to the hideout tonight- isn't that funny, totally slipped my mind-” he says it all in a loud, manic voice and Dustin is definitely not going to believe any of it but it seems to be enough to make them leave, thank god.

”...Fuck, we're going to owe him the biggest cake after this” Eddie whispers as their voices dissappear in the distance, leaning forward into Chrissy's shoulder, hands a little shaky with adrenaline. Her answering ” Yeah ” is a little weak, a little shaky too.

”You uh... wanna keep going?” He asks after a moment of silence because- he's still kind of inside of her and apparently his dick is still on board for some undoubtedly fucked-up reason and-

”Is it bad if I say that I do?” She says, looking embarrassed. Oh chrissy. A woman of his own heart.

”Not at all, sweetheart.” he says, smiling into her hair. ”not at all”

They do bake him a cake. It's awful, the frosting is dry and cracked and Eddie should NOT have been in charge of the piping because he managed to spell ”Sorry” wrong, and who does that?

He’s never showed up at the Harringtons unannounced before though, and when they reach the door he's worried, suddenly.

”What if his parents are home?” He says, hand hovering over the doorbell ”They definitely wouldn't be happy to see me ”

”I don't see a car?” Chrissy counters, clearly not as worried.

”Chrissy, he's got like, five garages.” He counters, which she admits is a fair point.

They spend a few more minutes going over their options - ”what if we leave the cake out here?” ”In the rain?” ”We could break into his bedroom?” ”you would break your neck climbing up” “hey-”

In the end, they decide the safest option is probably just to peek in through the living room window. This... turns out to be a bad idea. Because yeah, Steve's parents aren't home. Steve... very much is though. And he's clearly not expecting company.

In fact, the lights are down low, and if it wasn't for the light of the TV, Steve wouldn't be visible at all, where he's lying on the sofa. But he is. Lying on his back, his shirt tucked up to his armpits, his sweatpants pushed down just below his hips, and he's – He's touching himself, there's no doubt about that, one hand on his dick and the other in his hair as he arches, a little shiny with sweat, against the sofa and-

”Holy shit” It's chrissy's voice that says it, though he wholeheartedly agrees, and Eddie's just trying to reach out to stabilize himself, really, but the rain has made the windowsill slippery and all his other hand can reach is Chrissy and before he know it, they are both tumbling into the flowerbed, knocking one of the dead plants off of it pedestal, sending the pot crashing into the ground and them next to it, Chrissy's weight knocking the air out of him and for a moment, and he is sure he sees stars.

And then, the front door opens to reveal a flustered looking Steve squinting at them in the dark, clothes mercifully covering him properly now because Eddie's brain still hasn't decided where to file that image yet.

When he sees that it's them, a little muddy and a lot embarrassed, who are hanging out in his flower bed he relaxes visibly.

”What the hell, guys?” he says, but there’s not much fire behind the words.

”uh..” Eddie says intelligently.

”We can explain?” Chrissy says, gesturing vaguely where the bag containing the cake still sits on Steve's front porch. He bends over to pick it up while Eddie and Chrissy try to detangle themselves with minimum mud-transference (it goes poorly) and peers inside.

”So...ry for the Sex?” Steve reads out as he looks at the cake, brows furrowed .

”It was meant to say sorry you had to walk in on us in a delicate situation multiple times but...” Eddie shrugs at Chrissy as he pulls her up from the ground.

”It didn't fit” She fills in, and Steve sighs, shaking his head at them both before opening the door wider behind himself.

”Well, I guess this means we’re even. Come on, you might as well come in if we're gonna eat this thing”

And they do.

The next morning, Robin finds the cake, half eaten in Steve’s fridge, now only spelling out The Sex and asks a lot of pointed questions, none of which Steve is able to answer truthfully. She does figure out it has something to do with Eddie and Chrissy though, and gives them both the stink-eye for a week. Eddies… Not sure if they deserve it or not.

#Stedissy #Steddissy #Eddie/chrissy/steve #stranger things fic #5+1 times #Had some fun with this one #hello tumblr posting here is kinda scary but i find so much good fic here i figured why not #hellcheer

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messyhairdiaz · 2 years

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“You’re safe with me. You know that, right?” Pretty please? 💕

Thank you! 🥰 kind of preslash

Eddie hasn’t had a panic attack in months. He naively thought they might be behind him, that the whole therapy thing meant the end of them.

And maybe it would’ve, if a three story building hadn’t caved in on him and Buck.

He should be grateful. The universe or God or just pure dumb luck was looking out for them, apparently, because instead of being flattened beyond all identification they crash into a perfectly Buck and Eddie sized pocket, and their radios work to call out an sos to boot.

He manages to keep his cool for exactly four minutes and thirty eight seconds by his count before his breath catches.

Buck, being plastered to Eddie’s chest, notices immediately.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He asks instantly, concerned. He tries to bring his arms up, likely to try to check Eddie over, but he mostly just succeeds in pressing him back into the rubble behind him, exacerbating the problem and making Eddie’s chest tighten in panic.

“I’m ok,” he says, telling himself that more than anything. Buck’s hands still, but it doesn’t give Eddie any more space.

“I don’t think you are, Eddie,” Buck says. Eddie can’t see his face. Their utility lights are on, keeping the space from being pitch black, but their proximity keeps the beams pointed directly at each other’s chests, leaving their faces in shadow. But Eddie doesn’t have to see him to picture the crease he knows is marring his brow, the frown pulling down the corners of his mouth, and the way his eyes will be glued to Eddie even though he can’t really see him either.

“Your breathing is shallow,” Buck continues. “And I can feel you trembling…” he trails off, and lets his arms drop, giving Eddie just a tiny bit more breathing space. “Eddie, are you panicking?”

“Trying not to,” Eddie answers truthfully, gasping now.

“Hey, hey, ok. You’re safe with me. You know that, right?”

Eddie drops his head, their positions making his forehead land directly on Buck’s shoulder. “You’re trapped with me,” he points out.

Buck makes a dismissive noise. “Oh that? No big deal. We’ll be out lickity-split,” he says, and Eddie smiles in spite of himself. Buck takes an exaggerated deep breath, his chest expanding against Eddie’s, and this time the pressure doesn’t make him feel trapped. “I know you can feel my breathing, try to match it,” he says, his voice going soft and soothing. He breathes carefully, evenly, several times in and out before Eddie is able to get his own to slow, and several more before Eddie can match it. But eventually he’s breathing evenly, his heart rate stabilizes, and he stops trembling.

And then the rubble shifts around them, and he has just enough time to feel one hot burst of terror before the debris is sliding away and their team is there to pull them out.

——

Buck is putting gear away when Eddie approaches.

“Hey,” Eddie says lamely, wincing at himself, but Buck just smiles, shuts the compartment, and leans against the truck.

“Hey yourself.”

Eddie leans next to him, brushing their shoulders. “Thanks. For calming me down back there.”

Buck ducks his head, shrugs. “So, tight spaces, huh?”

Eddie sighs. “I used to be fine with them. And they don’t always bother me now. But, since the well, if I feel trapped…” he trails off and shrugs. “So, thanks.”

Buck looks up and catches his gaze. “I meant it, you know. You’re safe with me. Even if I’m trapped right there with you, you’re still safe with me.”

Their hands hang between them, and it’s the smallest movement for Eddie to take Buck’s, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah,” he nods, knocking their shoulders again. “I know I am.”

Buck squeezes his hand, and they lapse into silence as they watch their team finish up. The weight of Buck’s hand in his is comfortable, and right. They aren’t together, but they’re on the precipice, he can feel it. But he’s in no rush to tip them over, and he thinks Buck isn’t either.

But, together or not, they’re safe with each other.

#asks #Elvensorceress #my fic #if you’re wondering why this is not what I asked you about it’s because I failed at that and did this instead 😂#prompt fill #buddie #prompt fills #tumblr ficlets

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blazingstar29 · 1 year

Text

Beers For Breakfast - Icemav

Requested by: @blackcat2907 - 'May I ask for an IceMav one-shot based on the song Poison by RITA ORA?'

warnings: allusion to internalised homophobia

pairing: preslash iceman x maverick

a/n: i meant for this to be more centralised to the song but i've never written a song fic before so i hope this is okay :D

Control is a thing Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky has strived to hold for most of his life. Up in the sky, at the stick of a jet, mission leader, that’s where control thrives and blooms in the palm of his hand like a plant in the sun. It was addictive and that’s why he’s never let it go since. Nor does he want to.

That’s what makes Maverick Mitchell so infuriating. He’s a wild card for one, completely unpredictable and flying by the seat of his pants. But the worst thing about it? Tom likes that. He likes it! There is not a day where Tom can predict what Maverick is going to do or say. It’s like he shows up to class already having had a beer for breakfast and it feels like he’s eyeing up Tom’s sanity for lunch. The man is incorrigible and dangerous and Tom can’t get enough and the whole thing fucking sucks.

Because out of all the impossible things that might be possible, controlling Maverick not one. Yet Tom has never relinquished control and he’ll be damned if he’s going to start now.

A big misconception about The Iceman is that his clear glass at the O Club is just straight vodka. Well, sometimes it is. Most of the time it’s just water. No, he doesn’t need anything else in his system. Not when the presence of his fellow classmate goes straight to his head.

He, Goose, Wolfe and Wood are holding court at the bar. Maverick flashes his white teeth and Tom wants nothing more than to take that jaw in his hand just to shut him up. And it’s just his luck when the quartet wander towards him.

Maverick eyes up his glass. “What’s your poison, Iceman?”

Tom doesn’t dignify that with a response. He’s never told anyone about the water and he enjoys the illusion because he can control it. Hot breath tickles his ear and he realises too late that Maverick has leaned in close, beer on his breath.

“Competition is paused, don’t be such a tight ass,” Maverick slurs just slightly but his voice is the wrong side of too loud. Tom blames it on instinct, a visceral reaction. Slamming his own drink down on the tall counter he pushes Maverick away from him with more force than necessary.

“You really are fucking foolish aren’t you?” He spits. Maverick landed against Hollywood’s chest, the taller, older man instinctively catching him. The look on Maverick’s face is nothing but one of shock and hurt and…fear. Without a word he leaves the stunned group

Jesus, he’s heading straight for the edge. That’s why he doesn’t like losing control. For all the shit he gives Maverick about being dangerous, he’s the dangerous one. The one who can hurt people and not realise until it’s too late.

Outside the warm summer air is fresh on his skin and clear in his lungs but he’s still not alone.

“You alright Kazansky?” Hollywood shouts. Tom turns around to see Wood striding up to him. “You alright man?”

He nods once, confused. But Hollywood doesn’t stop until he’s in Tom’s face and with the last step he takes he shoves Tom back. Okay, yeah should have seen that one coming. Still, it feels a little uncalled for.

“What the hell, Rick?” Tom protests as he catches himself before stumbling. “What is this, Maverick revenge squad?”

It’s petty but it’s all he’s got at the moment.

“Maverick’s a lightweight and you know it. He’s actually trying to not be a dick which I know is crazy but you don’t need to shove it in his face unless you want class to be even more of a shit show.” Rick narrows his eyes at him. “He wasn’t coming on to you, you know that right?”

He wants to say something like thank God but he can’t, he just keeps coming back for more of Maverick and now it’s over.

“I know that,” he spits instead. “But I’m not going to be stationed in the middle of nowhere just because he’s a friendly drunk.”

“He’s not fucking stupid!” Hollywood shouts out of nowhere and it takes Tom by surprise. “Stop acting like he is. He’s got just as much on the line as you, so please for the love of God pull your head out of your ass.”

Heat radiates off the ground as silence echoes between them.

“It just took me off guard,” Tom mutters.

Hollywood sighs like he knows all the inner workings of Tom’s mind. “Yeah well, maybe you need to drop it every now and then.”

And he will. Of course he will. He picked his poison. He picked his poison and it’s Maverick.

#icemav #iceman x maverick #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986 #top gun fic #blazingstar 29 fanfic #rick hollywood neven #top gun fanfiction #cross posted on ao3

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