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ghouljams · 2 months

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Hockey au my light my love. The most chaotic boys. The Goon squad. The bane of coach Price's existence.

"Just talk to 'er mate," Soap nudges Ghost's shoulder. Poor guy has been staring you down all night, glaring like you walked in with his brother.

"What am I s'pposed ta say," Ghost grumbles over the lip of his beer. His eyes hardly budge from staring, watching you like a hawk as you laugh with your friends.

"Oh use a pickup line," Gaz chimes in, leaning around Soap at the bar.

"Good on ya Gaz," Soap pats the man on his shoulder in agreement before turning back to Ghost, "pickup line breaks the ice, get 'er to laugh and youre in."

"You're not suppose to break the ice," Ghost turns to look at his teammates. Soap groans, Gaz snorts, taking a sip of his drink.

"Go up to her and say something hockey like," Gaz chews his lip, thinking, "you should get two minutes for tripping, because I just fell for you."

"That's a good one," Soap says, almost surprised, smacking his hand against Gaz's chest.

"I know," Gaz boasts, sipping his beer.

"Got a better one though," Soap grins.

"Let's hear it," Gaz tips his head, yielding the proverbial floor.

"You want my sweater? 'Cause I think you need my name and number."

"Pretty good," Gaz nods, "how about this one-"

Ghost stands from his seat as Soap and Gaz go back and forth. Pickup line, he can do that, that's easy. He's good looking, he can talk to pretty people in bars. He stops next to your table and watches you turn to look up at him, your smile good natured and your brow raised in question. He stares at you a moment longer, God you're pretty. Prettier up close, he can't take his eyes off the sparkle in your eyes or the crooked tilt of your lips. You're waiting on him to say something, you deserve something good for putting up with his staring.

"Hi," he starts and your smile grows a little wider and everything flies out of his head, "I'm Simon, I'm a goalie."

"You play for the 141 right?" You ask, grabbing your drink to take a sip. It's something dark on ice, it tips in the glass like bourbon. Ghost nods. "You've got a .9 save percentage."

".921," Ghost corrects, "and six shut outs."

You set your drink back on the table and grab your jacket, Ghost doesn't move when you stand, even if it means you nearly bump into him. He wouldn't be mad if you did. He's hoping for it actually.

"You should take me home," you tell him, and Ghost wastes no time settling a big hand on the small of your back to lead you out into the cool night air.

He only realizes the mistake he made in the morning when you shake him awake the next morning and tell him, "We have practice at six, get your ass up."

Ghost groans and cracks his eyes open to stare at you, half asleep. "We?" He asks, not sure what you have to do with him or his practice schedule.

"New team manager nice to meet you," you pat his cheek and roll out of bed, "get your ass up Riley, we got a long day ahead of us."

Ghost sits up, watches you fish around on the floor for your underwear and tries to make the cogs in his head turn the right way. He's gotta stop getting into fights, he thought you said team manager. That- he'd know if you were his manager. He knows the team manager.

You toss a tee at him with a 'what are you doing?' look, "hell are you sitting around for ya fuckin' muppet? You got practice."

Ghost grabs the tee and tugs it over his head with a grumbled swear. You better stop yelling at him or he's gonna fall in love with you.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x oc #oc: goose #hockey au #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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ultram0th · 3 days

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How about one where a frat boy turns into a lazy, slobby stereotypically dad. Maybe muscular but with a beer belly and barking out orders to his old frat bros. But instead of bringing him a beer, it's to suck his massive cock while he watches sports or Nascar.

When Coach told all the frat boys at the start of the year that he was giving up his position, most of them had scrambled for the opportunity to be the proverbial "Top Dog". The older man had commanded the respect of the numerous frat bros, each one looking up to the older man as one of their own-- and he must have been back in his prime. However, after years of no longer playing sports and drinking, the older man had gained a big belly and a layer of fat that covered his impressive musculature. Instead of looking like a strict athlete, Coach looked like a burly musclebear.

And when he'd announced that Trevor, the newest recruit on the baseball team, was going to be taking his place, the young jock had been ecstatic.

Trevor was brand new to the university and the fraternity, and although he was the smallest, he still had rather sizable muscles. The stud opted to go for a toned aesthetic, his trimmed bulk looking like it was ripped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad.

Some of the other jocks muttered under their breath, jealous that they weren't getting picked. Whereas others were fighting back laughs because Trevor was still brand new, and therefore didn't realize all that the position entailed.

Trevor proudly stood before the rest of the fraternity, puffing out his chest with pride. Coach took off his baseball cap to place it upon Trevor's head.

The exact second Coach's hat was placed onto Trevor-- BWOMPH!

Trevor gasped as soon as he felt a massive heaviness on his chest. Fearing some sort of medical emergency, the young jock was horrified when he looked down and saw that instead of his chiseled pecs and abs, he stared down at large muscletits and a big gut.

The rest of the jocks cheered as they watched the new Coach explore his inflated body with shaky hands. Where a fit, young jock had stood just moments before was now a beefy bear of a stud. He still had muscles, but now they were concealed by a thick layer of fat. His pecs that were capped with nubby nipples still protruded off of his chest, but they also drooped slightly and rested atop his cresting musclegut that hid away his lengthened, hardening cock. As Trevor explored his new body, he saw that he was covered in manly hair, and he looked over a beefy shoulder to stare in the mirror on the wall, paling when he saw an older man staring back at him. He had a goatee and slight wrinkles near his eyes, complimenting his new daddy look.

He looked just like Coach: a big, burly musclebear.

"Wh-what happened to me?" the former jock panicked, bristling at his much deeper voice.

He turned back to ask Coach what had happened to him, only to jerk back in shock as a trim, young jock with a chiseled six pack stood in his place instead.

The toned jock playfully pinched Trevor's new belly, making the new daddy blush. "I'll miss that," he teased. "But now it's your turn to be Coach. We alternate from year to year, so enjoy it while it lasts."

The rest of the frat bros cheered as Trevor struggled to take the cursed hat off, but it was seemingly superglued to his head, leaving him trapped as a muscle daddy coach for the rest of the year.

-- -- --

Over the next couple of weeks, Trevor managed to adapt to his new role as Coach. At first, it was a struggle trying to squeeze his new furry bulk into clothes since he'd gained at least sixty pounds of muscle and fat. And he was finding that his new daddy body was CONSTANTLY horny.

Never before had Trevor ever had a gay thought in his life, but he was finding it incredibly hard to not drool over all of his jock frat brothers. Their toned muscles and youthful bodies made his enlarged cock surge, throbbing with want. His hairy bulk was also sensitive, and he could get himself off just by worshipping his hairy muscles; and his enlarged nubby nipples were hardwired straight to his cock.

However, Trevor was surprisingly happy to find out that his new body also offered him something else.

"Hey, Jockbro, get me another beer!" Trevor bellowed in his deep voice from his spot on the sofa. He was wearing a simple jockstrap that was stretched to bursting as it struggled to contain his massive cock. He opted to go shirtless, shuddering a little as the air from the A/C blew over his hard nipples.

One of his frat brothers immediately scampered towards the fridge, not even bothering to hide the fact that getting ordered around by the musclebear made his rock hard. He grabbed a beer off the bottom shelf and hurried back to the living room, his hard cock tenting out his gym shorts.

No matter what order he gave, the new Coach was delighted to discover that the jocks in the frat had to obey. Even better, was that it turned them on to be bossed around by such a manly daddy such as himself.

"Here ya go, Daddy," the jock gushed as he handed the new Coach his beer, his cock throbbing and leaking precum into his shorts.

Trevor took it and chugged it, letting out a loud belch. He then gestured down at his large bulge, his own cock starting to slip out of the small confines of his jockstrap. "Go ahead and take care of that," he ordered.

The frat bro dropped to his knees and immediately fished Trevor's daddy cock out of his jockstrap, eagerly slurping it up. He moaned loudly as he sucked the new Coach off.

Coach Trevor moaned loudly, his deep voice echoing off the walls of the frat house. He loved his new position as Coach, and he knew deep down that this was going to be the best year at college ever.

#muscle #musclegrowth #pecs #straight-to-gay #Daddy #Daddification #Belly #Gut #gut growth #Hairy #Hairy Chest #Asks #Requests #gym_runt #straight to gay

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lovelyhan · 10 months

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hi beloved. i am here to bother you with the idea of cucking shua by fucking jeonghan in front of him and blindfolding him so he cant watch he can only listen to ur moans and get off to the thought of his best friend fucking the life out of you and he cant even see

03:05 — JH & JS

i was supposed to go to bed but then i remembered this ask exists and now i won't do that anymore 🗿

warnings: cuckolding, smut (MINORS DNI)

you love your boyfriend. you love him more than anything in the entire goddamn world. so when joshua lets slip that he wouldn't mind seeing you get fucked by his best friend during a silly game of truth or dare at a night out with friends, who are you to deny him what he wants?

unfortunately for your sweet, sweet shua, jeonghan plays out the fantasy in a much more sinister way.

"hear that, joshuji?" he chuckles and you feel every word breathed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "she's soaking. all wet and ready for a cock that isn't yours. how's that make you feel?"

the words are delivered in a tone that isn't so different from a stereotypical villain that's out to take everything away from the main protagonist. but if there's something you know about the nature of your boyfriend's long-time friendship with jeonghan, it's that they bond over the most unorthodox things.

one being: jeonghan being balls deep inside you while joshua sits helplessly on the plush reading chair near the bed — wrists tied together behind his back while a silk black blindfold robs him of his sight all at once.

"can hear her pretty cunt all the way here," he sighs almost dreamily — what a freak, but you adore him for it anyway. "jeonghan-ah, you better fuck her right. nice and sloppy so i can at least hear what you're doing to my girlfriend."

joshua sounds so awfully casual about the entire thing that it makes you wonder if this odd pair has done this before. you wouldn't really put it past them to be insane enough to do that, but whatever girls they tag-teamed before don't matter.

it's your pussy that they want now.

"h-hannie," you whimper, hips gyrating ever-so slightly to give yourself the friction you craved like a drug. "need you to move."

jeonghan lets slip an amused laugh, pulling his hips back only to force you back onto the mattress with a powerful thrust. you mewl at the sensation, loving the way his cock drags against your velvet heat — the way your insides squelch with his intrusion. he feels so much different from joshua and you find yourself wondering if it makes you such a terrible person to enjoy getting fucked stupid on another man's cock.

"both of you are perfect for each other — so fucking demanding," jeonghan comments. "don't worry, shua. i'll rail our sweet baby so good, she'll keep coming back for more."

as promised, jeonghan makes it sloppy. spit dribbling from his puckered lips and onto the spot where his length disappears inside of you. he fucks the stringy liquid into your tight cunt — making the slide easy and smooth and so fucking divine that you're moaning into the sheets in no time.

jeonghan's heavy balls slap against your thighs with every forward thrust — unrelenting with his vigor as his teeth find purchase on the shell of your ear. "so fuckin' cockhungry, aren't you? couldn't be content with shua's? had to let me fuck this tight little pussy to keep you satisfied?"

he says the words sharply — like a knife to the ribcage before he twists the proverbial handle. but all they do is send another rush of slick gushing out of your hole, soaking jeonghan's cock even more as your eyes flutter open to let your gaze land on joshua.

he isn't putting much of a fight, but you see the way his thighs clench with the itch to get up and stuff you full alongside his best friend. the erection straining against his sweats makes your mouth water, wanting nothing more than to take his heavy length into your mouth as jeonghan fucks you from behind.

"tightest fucking pussy i've ever had," jeonghan hisses as he smooths his hands over your ass — squeezing your perky flesh hard enough to leave angry red marks. you arch your back in pure ecstasy. "you're so unfair, joshuji. keeping such a slutty cunt all to yourself when we could've been filling her up together."

joshua lets out a shaky laugh, bottom lip wedged between his teeth with a no-good smile. "i'll give you a call when she's in the mood to get stuffed by two cocks."

"fuck— she got tighter," jeonghan groans before rolling his hips deep enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your skull. "you like the sound of that, don't you? both your holes filled with cock? or do you want me and shua inside this tight pussy at the same time? you can take it, right?"

"wan' it so bad," you practically sob into the sheets as jeonghan fucks you harder, faster. "need your cum in me, hannie. please, please, please —"

"fuck, you sound so desperate, baby," joshua moans from his spot in the corner, hips bucking ever-so slightly. "begging so fucking prettily for jeonghan's load. shit. i might just come untouched."

the older man simpers, reaching between your thighs to find that sensitive little nub with unrelenting strokes. "you hear that, sweet thing? your pathetic little boyfriend is gonna cream himself to the sound of you begging for my cum. go ahead, baby. come around my cock so i can stuff you full."

his filthy words coupled with the quick, precise circles he's tracing around your clit makes your walls clamp down on him tightly — milking jeonghan's cock as you muffle a long-winded moan into the sheets.

"that's our girl — our cock drunk princess," jeonghan hisses before slamming his hips against your ass one last time, dumping his white hot cum into your hole until it overflows.

it takes you a while to come down from sheer bliss — so disoriented from that mind-shattering orgasm that you belatedly realize that joshua is right in front of you. blindfold missing, restraints undone.

before you can even ask what's going on, your boyfriend is already taking out his rock hard length out of his soiled sweats — all while his best friend's cock keeps his own cum from leaking out of your sloppy hole.

jeonghan smirks.

"your boyfriend deserves some attention too, right baby?"

#seventeen smut #svthub #jeonghan smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #💘 mutuals #june 💐#📝 drabble #lovelyhan #i ended it a lil differently bc i forgot how u worded this on dc #BUT ITS TOO LATE TO CHANGE IT NOW 😔

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Seven Seconds || Bucky Barnes

Summary: In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare. Warnings: pregnancy, old age death WC: 1.5k

In seven seconds your life completely changed.

The elevator door had only just begun to open with Edith’s voice announcing the level number that opened out in the common room where most of the team had gathered. Though you had not met all of the Avengers during your induction training, you had met most at least in passing as you were given a tour of the compound. This would be your last stop on the way to the apartment that would be your home while you stayed to train your precognition powers with Wanda.

Noise spilled through the widening gap of the doors and you looked around at the lively group of people bustling about in the kitchen and dining space. They moved harmoniously between each other as they made dinner and drinks, like a family.

Past the kitchen lay the oversized lounge suite and the largest tv you had ever seen, Animal Planet playing on silent. There was only one person watching the Great White shark stalking its unsuspecting prey and he turned towards the elevator as the jaw of that predator opened wide for the kill.

Blue eyes connected with yours and a flash of pain lacerated your head as you stumbled forward.

–

One.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

“I haven’t seen Bucky care about anyone since Steve,” Sam teased with a nudge of his elbow. “Whatever you are doing, keep it up.”

Sam walked off, leaving you with Bucky and you noticed the frown lines in his forehead had eased away along with the sadness that tinged his eyes whenever you looked into them.

“I’m fine,” you promised with a reassuring smile, “it was just a headache but it’s already gone.”

“You should still get it checked out.”

“No time,” you said as you slipped out of his hands and straightened the lines of your dress, “we are almost late.”

Bucky took a deep breath and turned towards the venue that was lit up like the Fourth of July, though it was only fitting for the memorial of Steve Rogers. He had been dreading the moment but with Sam waving at him from up ahead, and the rest of the team waiting inside he could finally take those last steps. He had been dreading the event after feeling like he would never get over the loss of his one constant in his life but with the support around him he had the strength to carry on.

Two.

The vision came too late as you saw the man take aim at Bucky.

Your scream could do nothing to stop the impending doom as the man squeezed the trigger.

Thankfully Sam had been keeping an eye on his friend and threw his vibranium shield out to ricochet the bullet away. The air in your lungs exploded with relief and you returned to focusing on the torrents of possible futures passing through your head, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack to save the hostages inside the building.

You trusted that those two would take care of each other and protect you while you had your own job to do.

Three.

“You like like her,” Sam stated before you rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Just tell her.”

Bucky’s cheeks were burning red and he shovelled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“What’s happening?” you asked as you took a seat beside Sam.

“Well-”

“Nothing,” Bucky spluttered with a cough as he choked on his breakfast. “Sam’s just talking nonsense.”

Your shoulders dropped with a pout and you turned to Sam to get the gossip but he had already made himself sparse. You caught Bucky staring at you when you turned back and cocked an eyebrow at him in question.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked with a quiet reservation that wasn’t uncommon when it was just the two of you. You chewed your lip wondering if you should tell him about the thunderstorm about to arrive and he saw the hesitation, clearing his throat. “Nevermind, you’re probably busy.”

“I’d love to,” you rushed to say as you saw him backing away. “It’s just, it’s going to bucket down shortly.” You pointed to the window that had been full of blue sky only moments earlier but was quickly darkening. “How about a movie instead?”

The shadows on his face disappeared as one of his rare true smiles replaced them.

Four.

You were dizzy as you twirled around until the blur of the crowd came to a stop.

Dozens of familiar faces and even more unfamiliar ones circled you and clapped loudly as you settled back on your feet. You broke away from the grinning faces to find the only one that mattered, smiling back at you.

The tuxedo fit him perfectly and the boutonnière of pink carnations were fragrant in the air, the colour of his suit a contrast to the white dress you wore.

A wedding dress.

Behind Bucky towered a cake as tall as he was and beyond it was a banner congratulating Mr & Mrs Barnes.

Five.

“Bucky!” you screamed as you saw the blood trail through the backdoor and into the laundry.

Heavy footsteps thudded across the wooden floors upstairs before Bucky dropped over the railing, bypassing the steps entirely as he rushed to your side. He expected to find an alien invasion given the shock on your face but all he found was a few smears of blood, a half eaten mouse and Alpine proudly licking his chops.

The scent of the dead animal made your stomach turn and you gagged as Alpine placed his paw on it before tearing another chunk of meat away from the bones.

“Nope, can’t do it,” you croaked and turned to the laundry sink to upheave your stomach's contents. “Please get it out of the house.”

Bucky frowned in concern and pressed his warm hand to your forehead. “That’s the second time this week you’ve been sick.”

“And it’s the second time Alpie’s decided to get takeout this week,” you groaned, replacing Bucky’s flesh hand for his colder vibranium one.

“Are you sure it’s not something else?” he asked, his eyes dropping to your stomach.

Six.

“Nat, no silly faces. Steve, look at the camera,” Bucky warned as the photographer made a final adjustment to his tripod. “Your mother wants at least one good photo before you go.”

The backyard was crowded with friends, celebrating the twins going off to college. It would be the last time you would all be together under the same roof until the mid-semester break but the ache of missing them had already settled in your chest.

The camera clicked and you knew whatever moment it captured would be perfect; even if Steve was looking over at his girlfriend, Nat was sticking her tongue out, you had tears in your eyes and Bucky’s mouth was open with another warning to the twins.

Seven.

Your bones ached as you hobbled down the hallway with a cup of tea in hand. Hot water splashed over the rim as your hand trembled uncontrollably but no matter how hard you tried you could not steady them anymore.

As you always did, you stopped to admire the framed photos that lined the walls to the bedroom.

You smiled as you saw the latest family portrait to be taken at Bucky’s 169th birthday only a few months earlier. He had still been able to walk at that stage and stood with the support of Steve in the centre of the photo beside you. Nat flanked your other side and every other inch of the photo was taken up by the grandchildren and great-grandchildren that had blessed your life in the last 35 years.

Water splashed over the lip of the cup and burned the wrinkled skin on your hands. A small gasp of pain had you concentrating on reaching the bedroom and delivering the drink while there was still some liquid left in it.

“Here you go, my love,” you rasped as you reached the bedroom but the cup slipped from your fingers and smashed across the floor. “Bucky?”

He looked peaceful in a way he had not for months after his body started to dramatically deteriorate. The painlines on his face had disappeared in the minutes since you left the room and his chest no longer rose with shaking breaths.

Your chest tightened as you stumbled towards him and took his hand that was still warm. Darkness was creeping into your vision as you struggled to pull air into your lungs but it didn’t matter as you clung to Bucky’s hand one last time.

–

You were thrown back into the present and found yourself teetering on your feet but a pair of hands caught you, one warm and one cold.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern written on his face.

You blinked dumbly as you stared into the pair of blue eyes of the man you had just spent a lifetime with. But these eyes were different. These eyes held the sadness from losing Steve and the loneliness that came with self-isolating. These eyes did not hold any love for you. These eyes didn’t know you.

But they would.

You had seen it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes fanfic

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yuly · 1 year

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Hey, hope you're doing good today 🤠 can I get a hurt/comfort with Hotch pining after reader, but she has a boyfriend? (She likes Hotch too, but he was with Beth, so she never made a move) Bonus points if you toss the one bed trope in there 🫠 please and thanks 🥺

→ hi lovely!! Can I just say that I love your ideas!! Hope you enjoy ♡

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Cw: mutual pining, loads of fluff

Lifeline

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

He’s always had a soft spot for you, there's a magnetic-like force that compels him to you. He always picks the seat closest to you, always pairs you with him, and always finds a reason to check in on you. But he can’t get himself to admit his feelings for you, not even to himself, much less make a move. He’s convinced himself that you are too good for him, that you deserve better, and that he would never have a chance.

You’ve always felt something special for him. There's something about the way he talks, his gestures, and the little habits he's so consistent with. He’s a dose of happiness you allow yourself to enjoy, but only from afar. You could never approach him with these feelings, he's a well-respected man, a professional in all aspects, and your boss. You've convinced yourself that he would never look at you that way.

Finding out that he was seeing someone was the proverbial last straw for you. You decide to leave the daydreams alone and function in reality. He would never and could never be yours. So you try to move on and start dating a lawyer, a distraction from what your heart truly yearns for.

When he finds out you're seeing someone, it feels like a dagger to the heart. It's hypocritical coming from a man who isn't single and doesn't have the guts to approach you anyway, but it hurts just the same. She provides him with companionship and satisfies his needs, but nothing will satisfy the yearning in his heart for you.

An eerie case finds you both in frigid Alaska, where suddenly, everyone has to bunk up and share a room. The rest of the team is quick to pair up and the two of you find yourselves with no other option.

You’re fidgety and panicky, this is way too close quarters to share with the man you’ve nursed a crush on for almost 2 years. You silently pray to God that you don't embarrass yourself.

He has no idea what to think, mentally cursing himself for not being faster to speak up. How would he survive being in a room with you alone knowing how he feels deep down?

You both exchange awkward smiles and trudge up to the room.

“You’re kidding.” You stare wide-eyed at the single queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

He clears his throat, “I’m fine with the couch.”

You argue that the love seat is barely big enough for him and that you would fit better on it. He simply cannot accept this and you are at a standstill.

You get yourself ready for the night and settle onto the couch to watch TV, hoping he will give up and just take the bed.

He sighs at the sight of you bundled up on the couch.

“Y/N, this is not up for debate,” he sounds exhausted, but all you can focus on is the navy long-sleeve he's changed into.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you respond sweetly and turn to the TV.

Surely enough, he settles into the couch next to you, the two of you sitting side by side, bundled up in blankets.

20 minutes later, you've dozed off, and you unconsciously rest your head on his shoulder, softly snoring away.

He freezes at the sudden contact. Unsure what to do, he contemplates carrying you to bed, but he doesn't want to wake you. He removes the blanket around him and settles it into his lap, gently laying you down. Once he’s satisfied that you won’t wake up with a sore neck tomorrow, he grabs a cushion from your end of the couch and settles it between your arms. He smiles brightly as you instantly cuddle the cushion, he knows this will help you sleep better. It takes everything in him not to give you a kiss goodnight. He finds himself counting each breath you take before he eventually slips into a peaceful slumber.

You wake with a start, causing Aaron to wake up in a slight panic.

“Hey, I’ve got you," he croaks in his raspy morning voice, instinctively wrapping an arm around you.

“You’re really stubborn Hotch, you could have left me here and taken the bed!”

He blushes slightly, “didn’t want you to get cold.”

A moment passes before you break out into a smile, and the both of you burst into giggles. The air in the room is carefree and playful, contradictory to the reality of the world outside of it.

You attempt to shuffle off his lap when he pulls you back with a firm grip.

"Aaron-"

"I'm sorry, I know this isn't appropriate I-"

"Does it feel right?" you ask solemnly.

"Sorry?"

"Does it feel right?"

"It only ever feels right with you," he looks dreamy, like he's stuck in a trance and you're the only thing that exists before him.

You pull him in for a hug, and he clings onto you like you’re his lifeline, the oxygen he needs to breathe, a living embodiment of his happiness.

You pull back to look into his honey-brown eyes, bringing you both back to Earth.

“But Aaron, we're not...you’re-"

“I know angel, I promise we’ll do this the right way, but for now,” he nestles you into his chest once more, “we have 15 more minutes to cuddle.”

You smile as you return to rest in your favourite spot, counting his heartbeat while softly tracing random shapes on his chest.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x gn reader #aaron hotchner fluff #mutual pining

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kil-g · 1 year

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breathing room

a/n: finals season am i right, ladies, men and nbs?

summary: "let’s go home for a week or two.” he says, his eyes meeting yours once again. you look for a sign of a joke somewhere in them, or in the tone of his voice. you don’t find any.

gn!reader ; 141!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: blood m

The last few weeks had been long and particularly hard.

If it weren’t for the proverbial rug being ripped out from under your feet courtesy of Shepherd and Graves, or the wild goose chase for a weapon of mass destruction, or even Hassan’s game of hide and seek, you would’ve been fine.

For things to go wrong was a given in this kind of work. It may very well be within the job description. You knew this well, you made your peace with it.

This, however, was different. This had been well outside the boundaries of what was considered normal. It was ridiculous, approaching the air of unbelievable. It was several consecutive days of touch and go, of dodging and praying, running and hiding with very few and far between moments to catch your breath.

Blessings were counted, scrutinized and counted again. Once after Soap disarmed the second missile, then again when you managed to scrape your way out of Las Almas, then once again after the team had secured Alejandro during the prison break.

Moments, all few and far between, to simply catch your breath. You supposed rest was a little hard to ask for at the moment. And, it’d be harder to find any rest to be had now that everyone had their skull-painted balaclavas on and ready to go.

It’s after the team has dispersed that you’re in the armory. You’re not sure why you’re lingering. Perhaps, you liked the temporary solitude because from here, all the conversations happening outside of the room are diffused into muffled hums by the distance between you and the source of the voices. You’ve double, even triple-checked your gear. Alone, you sit on a bench turning a two-inch blade between your fingers when, suddenly, the quiet is interrupted by a voice cutting over the hum of noise just outside.

“You alright?”

Your head snaps to the source, revealing Ghost standing at the threshold.

“Of course.” You answer, but it’s clear by his lack of response that he doesn’t believe you. You watch him move to stand in front of you. Then, he takes one glance around–ensuring that no one is looking in this direction–and adjusts the straps and buckles of your tactical gear.

“You look tired.” Ghost says.

You snort, “Thanks, you really know how to make a person feel real special.” He hums, then flattens down one of the pockets with his thumb. “How are you holding up?”

Ghost hesitates before he answers. Then, he blinks rapidly before shutting his eyes slowly and it brings you to the realization that, even if you’d seldom caught him in the act, Ghost did, in fact, require sleep every once in a while. That these last few weeks were long and particularly hard, and he must feel it too.

You wonder if he’s purposely not meeting your eyes and, tentatively, you slide a hand up his arm and squeeze.

“I’m alright.” He says. You could almost laugh at yourself; you’re not quite sure what you expected.

“Have you got any plans for after this?” You say, all while attempting to curb the tone of hopefulness that must be leaking out into the words.

Ghost simply let you get away with too much, and it was as strange as it was new. It was affection without a name or place to put it.

“No.”

You hold back a smile, “None?”

Then, Simon swallows down on his nerves. You have one palm against the bench and you lean your weight against it to get a better angle looking up at him. Silently, his eyes move back and forth between yours and he hesitates on the words before they’ve even formed.

The precipice is large, he thinks, and the jump was treacherous. If he thought too hard about it, he wouldn't actually make the leap, so instead of letting his nerves get the best of him, he says, “How about we take a break after this?”

He looks down from your gaze, his hands lingering slightly too long on the straps of your vest. He can feel you staring up at him.

There’s a playful glimmer behind your eyes when you open your mouth and say, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“You know what I mean.” He says, plainly.

“Tell me.” You reply, teasingly.

No matter how much he didn’t want to humor you, he did anyway.

Simon wasn’t joking when he said that you looked tired. You were tired. Everyone was tired. And, despite that, you still smiled at him and joked with him. Then, tentatively, he moves his eyes towards your mouth and studies the curve it makes. He’s fighting the urge to take your chin by his thumb and forefinger, and even lean down and plant his mouth against yours. If it weren’t for the company just outside the door, he would have lost this fight with the utmost pleasure but the chances of being seen outweighed the urge to wipe the smile off your face.

“Let’s go home for a week or two.” He says, his eyes meeting yours once again. You look for a sign of a joke somewhere in them, or in the tone of his voice. You don’t find any, and then, for a second, you wonder if you’d imagined him saying it. “Jesus, if you hate the idea that much then just say–”

“No.” You blurt, shaking your head. If anyone heard you, they haven’t given any indication that they had. “I don’t hate that idea. Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to actually say it.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, stepping back to get a space between the two of you.

“You don’t have to pout, Simon.” You stand, fighting back the urge to laugh. “Of course we can head home after this, especially since you asked so nicely.” Still, he refuses to look at you and you snort. You glance out the door to make sure no one’s looking, then grasp at his arm once again. Squeezing it a little too hard, you crane upwards to place a kiss on his jaw through the mask.

“Keep it up, I might change my mind.” He says, even though you both know he doesn’t mean it. “Who knows, maybe, we’ll even head back to base and there’ll be twice as much paperwork on your desk than usual.”

“There’s always twice as much paperwork than usual, no thanks to you.” You reply.

He knows you’re not really complaining, but he can’t help but feel guilty. His eyes are looking down into yours and he presses his lips together. Part of him couldn’t help but feel like he’d been responsible for all the hell the two of you had just been through. The proverbial rug was beneath his feet after all, he should’ve known that someone was grasping to pull it even though foresight was probably impossible.

There are several things he feels like he should say. Perhaps, an ‘I’m sorry.’

But, no that wouldn’t suffice. You would ask him why he would have to apologize to you for anything and he wouldn’t know how to explain himself.

He wonders, then, if he should say, ‘I’m glad you’re okay.”

But, you were in a certain mood, which was made plain by the look on your face and the sickly sweet tone of your voice. If he said anything like that now, he’d never hear the end of it.

Then, he thinks, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’

But, that’s too much. It’s far too much. It’s not for here and now. It’s for another place and another time.

So instead of saying any of those things, he says, “Let’s go join the others before they start looking for us.”

He’s out the door before you have the chance to say anything else.

–

Leaning your head against the helicopter wall, you did your best not to look at Soap.

Hassan’s blood was still stained across his shirt and he was exhausted. It felt like the least you could do for him.

Once the helicopter landed, you and Ghost promptly slipped away from the rest of the group who were speaking quite animatedly about the nearest bar and how to get there. How they still had the energy was beyond viable comprehension.

You completed all the necessary steps to your usual routine for each time you returned back from a mission. The hot water from the shower relaxed the soreness of your muscles. You took slightly longer just to ensure that all the dirt had been scrubbed out of your fingernails.

When you return to your quarters, there’s no paperwork to be found at all. The desk is as empty as you’d left it weeks ago save for the pens, notebooks and various folders strewn across. Instead, there’s a note the size of your palm sitting on the desk by your cot. Upon closer inspection it reads:

Told Price about our situation. Flight is in the morning. Get some rest, I will come wake you.

P.S. You owe me for these reports.

You trace the lettering with the tip of your finger and smile to yourself, doubting that he’d actually hold you to it.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley reader insert #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost reader insert #ghost

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tgmsunmontue · 1 month

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More than movie magic... 6/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

There’s a fucking bell being rung and he squints, reaching for his phone. Of all the information that was piled on to him last night and no one warned him about this. A 5am wake-up call. What the fuck. He knows he doesn’t have anything he needs to be awake for until much closer to eight, a far more humane time to be awake after the travel day yesterday. He rolls over and tries to go back to sleep, pulling the pillow over his head in an effort to drown out any potential future sounds or alarms.

Of course it’s no use. He’s wide awake twenty minutes later unable to get back to sleep and decides to just get up, take a walk around and get the proverbial lay of the land, review what aspects and areas he’s in charge of. Meet with anyone who might also have the misfortune of being awake this early. He gets dressed, and he’s brought with him his oldest clothes, knowing time on a ranch wasn’t going to do his wardrobe any favors. He enters the mess hall and it’s quieter than the previous evening, far fewer people but there’s the smell of coffee and baking biscuits and his mouth waters. Aunty Kaye is nowhere to be seen, but the kitchen is clearly a hive of activity without her presence anyway.

A few people watch him, and they’re probably awake because they’re getting ready to go out and work. Work on a ranch that is, not a movie set. He glances around and then ambles over.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Be our guest,” one of them says, and they shuffle over. Glancing around Bradley is pretty sure he’s the only one awake who isn’t a ranch worker. Clearly a type of hazing, and fucking Natasha and Bob and Rueben were in on it. Fuckers.

“Hi, I’m Bradley, the lead stunt coordinator.”

That gets a few interested looks, and he gets everyone’s names around the table and he’s going to struggle to remember them all, but he’s pretty sure he’ll get most of them. He’s always been good with names. Then one man, older than the rest is reaching his hand across the table.

“Andy. I’m the foreman. You got any questions about the ranch you can come direct to me.”

“Thank you sir, that’s good to know.”

He’s not normally a person that calls people sir and ma’am but it’s just slipping out of him, a natural response to the apparent Southern hospitality he’s being shown. Mav and Ice would be proud. Andy’s lips twitch in amusement and he wonders if his Californian accent sounds odd or amusing to them.

“I’ve met with Selina a few times now, she tells me you like to walk the perimeter of the set…”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head.

“When it’s practical. I think I’d get lost if I tried that here.”

Andy snorts with amusement, clearly agreeing with his self-assessment.

“Well, you’d be right. Also you can’t do the boundary in a day. We usually send out a couple of teams. You’d need to stay a couple of nights outdoors if you were wanting to ride the whole boundary…”

Bradley blows out a breath, making a conceding and impressed gesture, shrugging his shoulders a little in concession. He knew before coming that he wouldn’t be able to do his usual routine, has already reviewed aerial photos and maps. It’s not drivable either, they’d do it all on horseback. He’s got the outline of where they will be filming and he knows he can walk and ride that, become familiar with that and leave the rest of the ranch to the professionals.

“You want me to show you around the wider area?” Andy asks, standing as the others move, clearing dishes and heading out.

“I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

“It’s fine, we’ve got plenty of help at the moment.”

“Okay then, that’d be great.”

He follows Andy and the rest of the crew out to the stables, watches as they all go through their morning routine and prepare for their day ahead. Andy is giving out jobs, discussing things with different teams and Bradley knows it’s a large ranch, is bordered by farms in most directions, but from the sounds of it they’re friendly with all the neighbors.

“Saddle up,” Andy instructs, pointing toward a stall.

“Sure thing.”

Okay. He wasn’t expecting that exactly but he’s not as out of practice as he would have been a couple of months ago. Inside the stall is a bay mare, sturdy looking and Bradley nods, giving her a quick brush down before saddling her and adjusting the stirrups. He strokes a gentle hand over her nose as he swaps the halter for a bridle, and she’s clearly used to working, simply noses at his hand like she’s looking for a treat and he murmurs about bringing her one later.

They mount their respective horses and he follows Andy’s lead, heading out to a large building a bit away and he can’t see as much as he would like to in the pre-dawn light, but Andy seems sure and Bradley can do nothing but trust him.

“From what I understand, most of the scenes are going to be filmed in either the practice rodeo arena, the outdoor pen or potentially the track along the stream to the pond out back,” Andy says, his voice clear. The surrounding land isn’t quiet, not with all the animals waking, along with the temporary trailers and people stirring and starting their day, but it’s still hushed, nowhere near the hustling sounds of a city. He follows Andy into a building, staying on horseback and it’s a massive indoor rodeo arena.

“Is it normal for a ranch to have an indoor practice rodeo arena like this?” Bradley asks and Andy raises an eyebrow at him, like he thinks Bradley is simple-minded.

“No son, this is special to Hazy Days.”

“Oh, okay than,” Bradley says, because that doesn’t answer his question. The building isn’t new, but it’s also not old either, maybe between five and ten years, and they’re probably going to film the competition scene in here. He knows the camera crew and set designers can be creative with making one space look completely different from one scene to the next. If it had been new then he’d have maybe thought it was built specifically for the movie, but apparently not. They keep riding and Andy is pointing out the pond and grove of trees.

“That there’s Bill and Kaye’s place, where all their family live. Bill’s family have been here for a long time,” Andy says, pointing toward a house with a large wrap-around porch, a decent distance away but the sunrise is reflecting against the glass of the windows. And Kaye’s proprietary attitude last night makes a little more sense, that this is her home and they’re all guests, yeah, it’s kind of nice to be treated that way instead of a necessary nuisance.

He feels better having ridden around, gotten the literal lay of the land and he thanks Andy, leaves him to his days’ work and goes off to find the others and give them shit for not warning him about the bell. They are, unsurprisingly, unapologetic, although Bob hands him a pair of high-grade ear plugs which he takes with gratitude.

He bumps into Aunty Kaye again later and it confirms his earlier thoughts, she seems genuinely happy to have everyone bustling around, the smile never dropping from her face and she just seems like the mothering type, double checking they’ve drunk enough water and wearing hats and sunscreen when they go out in the sun. She asks if he enjoyed his wakeup call and he huffs a laugh, realizing that it’s clearly a hazing ritual of sorts, a harmless one and he says he enjoyed the pre-dawn ride with Andy which makes her laugh.

He sits with Selina and goes over the health and safety, not only of the set in general but the risks associated with each stunt. It’s not an action movie, but there’s always risks when working with horses and some of the scenes will require competent people on horseback to carry out the rodeo practice scenes.

The first few days slip by, and he rides every day, working with Machado and Bassett, watches as Rueben and Natasha learn to walk like them, ride like them. Natasha has dyed and cut her hair. Every day he ignores his screaming muscles at the out-of-practice movements, but on day four he wakes up not in complete agony. Stretches out comfortably and when he gets to the stable there is a different man working with the horses and he acknowledges him with a nod of his head, which he takes as a clear indication to come over and talk.

“I’m Bill. It’s nice to meet you.”

There’s something familiar about Bill’s eyes, but he can’t quite place it.

“Oh, Aunty Kaye’s husband?” Bradley hazards and the other man nods.

“Yes. And you can call me Bill,” he says, clearly used to his wife’s familiarity with everyone on set and Bradley hadn’t meant to refer to her as Aunty Kaye.

“That’s fine sir,” Bradley says, huffing with amusement.

“Now, Andy said you were decent on a horse.”

“I know how not to fall off, sir,” Bradley demurs, because he’s better than he was a week ago, but he’s still out of practice and he doesn’t need to talk up his skills. He’s not going to be as good as the people who make their living on the back of a horse, but he doesn’t need to be.

“Well, if you can tell one end from the other then we’re off to a good start. Now Kaye wanted me to give these to you special, seeing as she can’t make it over today. Grandkids are visiting.”

He takes the proffered container and inside are cheese biscuits, still warm and he doesn’t know if he gets particular personalized attention, but she always seems to take the time to come over and check in on him, occasionally pressing a piece of baked good into his hand, or some fruit before leaving him to continue working. This is going above and beyond though.

“She doesn’t seem to think you eat enough, but she thinks that of most everyone. Says we need to keep you sweet because you keep everyone safe.”

“Uh, that’s really Selina’s job. I just look after the stunt work.”

“I learnt a long time ago to not bother trying to tell her what way the wind was blowing.”

“Okay. Point taken. Please pass on my thanks.”

Bill tips his hat and disappears back outside and Bradley goes to start his day, biscuits in hand.

SEVEN

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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reviewdiaries · 11 months

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Nancy x Ace and the case of emotional intimacy in 4x02

The writers are on fire this season, no seriously, they ate a bunch of the unhinged wants from the Nancy Drew fandom and said ‘here, it’s the final season, feast on this!’ Part of me wondered if they would keep the proverbial foot on the gas after that truly what even oh my god final scene of episode one, but oh boy they really came out swinging for episode two.

You know the drill, I get rambly, more beneath the cut.

The tension throughout this episode between Ace and Nancy is absolutely delicious. Whilst I would love to know how that confrontation at Icarus Hall ended, I really love how they open 4x02. Ace isn’t letting Nancy off that easily, not after finally cracking open this slice of honesty at last. He hasn’t physically pushed in again, not since that step back when Nancy told him they were cursed, and it’s a direct contrast to 4x01 how hands off he is in this episode. He doesn’t invade her personal space, he’s restraining himself so hard in the first few scenes not to reach out to her, he knows that having opened the door to this conversation and Nancy’s fears about the curse it would be too easy for her to shut down again, shut him out and refuse to be anywhere near him. He’s having to walk a tightrope of managing his own feelings and trying to get more information and not pushing in the wrong way and losing Nancy completely.

GIF Credit @whitefluffyyeti

He’s hurt, he’s angry, he wants to scream at the world that he’s finally found out that Nancy loves him and he can’t do anything about it. The physical barrier of the table in this opening scene is a really delightful framing option. They’re talking (sort of) finally, but it’s not a fully open conversation yet, there’s a barrier (literally) blocking them from reaching an understanding.

GIF Credit @whitefluffyyeti

Ace is desperate - for information, for understanding, for Nancy to stop shutting him out and actually tell him what she knows. He’s had this dumped on him barely twelve hours ago and is still processing. Nancy, meanwhile, has had weeks to work through her feelings and has made a decision for her, without the acknowledgement that it’s more than her in this. Nancy has been blinded by fear to the fact that this cannot just be her choice. They’re a team, they’re a unit, no matter that they cannot be physically close to each other, but they’ve forgotten that in amongst the fear and the anger and they’re not working effectively together.

That’s a running theme throughout - they’re together for a lot of the episode, but not actually working as a team. It’s mostly Bro!Nancy pushing, belittling, ripping those around her down, but after enough sniping Ace starts to give it back. Never enough to hurt Nancy, but enough to rile her, to let her know that he isn’t just going to lie down and take whatever she feels like throwing at him. He’s had weeks of not having her, barely even seeing her, and now suddenly he has all of this new information to work through and it’s not even really Nancy anymore, it’s some Bro version of her and god he just wants his friend back and it hurts.

GIF Credit @hucklebucket

You see him fading back further and further from the group, not wanting to even engage with her whilst she’s like this, because this isn’t his Nancy, sure he still loves her, but he doesn’t particularly like her right now. What starts out as just Dudebro humour quickly degenerates into verbal and physical abuse and at every turn Ace works to hide his hurt from her, to not let it affect him, to protect Nancy even when she’s trying to kill him.

The tipping point is at the hospital where she accuses him of flirting with the nurse - you can watch him shut down and disengage before walking away. Ace will do a lot for Nancy, Ace would die for Nancy, but this isn’t her. This is some horrible warped version of her and he’s not going to sit around and let her abuse him like this.

He doesn’t want anything from this version of Nancy. Even when she offers to tell him about the time they did get together you can see a flicker, a moment where he files that piece of information away for later because this is new, this is something that he wasn’t aware of, this adds layers and context and confusion to what Nancy has been dancing around all this time, because how could they have had time together? But he doesn’t want to know now, he doesn’t want this Nancy to be the one to tell him, bartering the information away to make him like her again. He wants his Nancy to tell him, he wants it to be a conversation, not bargaining chips and one upmanship.

When she starts trying to physically hurt him he backs away, at no point does he go on the offensive or try to really overpower her.

GIF Credit @hypermania

He just tries to get her somewhere where she can’t hurt him or herself. But even when she’s slightly more in control of herself and the first thing she does is apologise to him he still doesn’t engage with her. Doesn’t come down to her level. He hangs back, because this is worse than when she wasn’t spending time with him, this is something twisted and he hates how it makes him feel like he’s the one that swallowed poison.

That shifts when she vomits. As soon as she’s unwell he can’t help himself, he moves in to check she’s ok, to be there for her. Because there’s a lot of hurt that it’s going to take him a while to move past, but now at least it’s his Nancy back again, and he needs to be close to her - two magnets impossible to keep apart. But he doesn’t talk to her, he’s still angry, still hurt, and yes she’s apologised but it’s not enough to soothe everything else about this god awful day. He uses the others to stay away from her, physically putting distance between them even though Nancy is back to not being able to keep her eyes from him. This will take more than an I’m sorry. This needs honesty, openness, time for the two of them to reforge a connection. They go off together to finish the case, to get closure and a confession from Logan, Ace throwing himself into his role. The car rider over there silent and awkward - this isn’t the time, Nancy is still head half in the case even as she keeps sliding glances to Ace to gauge whether he’s ready to listen, ready to talk, ready to let her back in again.

There’s been a lot of hypothesising about the curse, the parameters of it, and the fact that this forces Nancy to actually communicate for the first time with someone she loves. It’s something she’s been slowly learning to do with those around her, but it hasn’t filtered through into her romantic relationships. Every other relationship we’ve seen her avoid and deflect and outright refuse to engage, but suddenly that’s no longer an option. Her options here are1) to not engage with Ace, which she tries with varying degrees of success throughout these two episodes, or 2) to actually talk to him and communicate openly. That last scene between them is the most open and vulnerable we’ve ever seen them in reality, and it shows how much growth Nancy has gone through over the course of the show that she now is able to actually talk to Ace and tell him these intimate details.

When she shows up at his door, he doesn’t really react to her joke (yes that’s the jar Bro!Nancy failed to open earlier) and physically flinches away from her as she moves into the apartment. He’s halfway to kicking her out when she finally (finally) begins to talk, to explain how she’s felt all day, and the understanding that not being able to access her own emotions has brought her. She doesn’t get to decide what Ace can and cannot know about this curse. It’s as much his as hers, arguably more his because it’s his life on the line. And yes Nancy has been so hurt and damaged by the other timeline that she’s trying to protect and shut down, but it’s not only her in this and at last she understands that.

At last she offers to tell him everything, and this is his Nancy and his space and it’s the diametric opposite to the night before. It’s light and he can see her and the night before he was filled with need and want and righteous demands for answers. Now it’s quieter, wanting to be with her to understand, to sit with her and talk. Because yes the physical aspects of a relationship are important, but part of what he’s been denied (to both of them over the last few weeks) is the connection and communication. The understanding, the raw truth, stripped back to the essence of each of them. And the relief on his face as Nancy talks to him, as she finally lets him in. The tension drains away and it is a real and palpable thing. There’s still that careful careful distance between them, because now at last Ace understands the need for no physical intimacy, but there is emotional intimacy instead. Hands carefully kept to themselves, eye contact, raw grief and tears.

GIF Credit @princessclarke

And Ace acknowledges her pain, they both finally reach a place of understanding for the other. Gone are the demands, the pushes, the refusal to back down. Now is a quieter comfort, a gentle humour, a slow breath out to release the tension. The relief of a wound finally cleansed, of being able to ask Nancy about what happened between them and hear about the good stuff, not just the grief and trauma. Because sure it’s important to talk about that, but they deserve the gentle kindness, the good, the slow slide of waking up and telling him that he smiles in his sleep.

GIF Credit @princessclarke

Nancy is a schoolgirl in love, desperate to talk about her crush. And what a way to talk about it, to actually be able to speak about the things that happened between the two of you with the person they happened with. To be able to use a shorthand that you both understand. To finally fall back and just stare at each other, drink the other in, bask in the closeness that could never have been achieved before the curse. Not like this, not without the physical closeness entwining with it.

GIF Credit @princessclarke

And that final shot, the framing of the two of them on the two different colours of bedspread. This is the start of something new. This is lancing the infected wound and allowing them to heal. This is hope. Ace is calm and still for the first time, content just to watch, and Nancy’s chest is tight with the wanting and this beautiful blossoming hopeful thing.

GIF Credit @nacesource

This is finally being on the same page and wanting to try. Because that’s all Ace has been begging for throughout the day, the chance to try. And all Nancy has refused to allow herself the option to hope. This is the start of something beautiful. It won’t all be magically fixed, there’s still going to be heartache and grief and bumps along the way. But this is where it starts, a glorious night spent talking until they fall asleep, baring their souls for the other to finally see fully.

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #cw nancy drew #nancy drew meta #nancy drew analysis #nancy x ace #ace [redacted]#nace #nancy drew 4x02 #nancy drew 4.02 #nancy #nancy drew spoilers

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nephilimarecool · 1 year

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Introdutions

"Who are you?" I turn at the gravelly voice to see batman from Young Justice. This was just great. Seeing my family reach for their weapons I shake my head. No. Slowly they drop their hands but not their guard.

"Batman." I stated.

"What was wash the influx of energy?" His face is set on 'Neutral' like always.

"I'm Charlie, this is Jack, Castiel, Sam and Dean." I introduce pointing to them in turn. "Jack's Nephilim and Castiel's a Seraphim." I continued. "Sam, Dean and I are hunters." I watched as some of the YJ team stiffened. "We were after a coven of very old and powerful witches and got caught with our proverbial pants down. "

Cas shot me a look saying 'stop talking' but I shake my head. "Castiel, Jack, Sam and Dean these guys are the hero's of this world. Meet Batman, Robin, Superman, Superboy, Miss Martian, Aqua-lad and Kid flash. Robins human but trained by Batman who was trained by the league of assassins, they're kinda like the British Men Of Letters." That gains a few scowls but they are smart enough to not interrupt me. "Super-boy is Superman's clone but he's only half kryptonian. Miss Martian and Martian Manhunter are well Martian." I laugh at that. "Aqua-lad is Atlantean and Kid Flash is human but his DNA was altered due to a mix of lightning and chemicals." I finish looking at Batman.

"Charlie how do you know these... people?" Cas asked. I smile remembering the numerous hours I spent reading comics and watching movies about them before I left to help the Winchesters.

"In our world they're comic books and TV shows Cas. I looked up to them before Chuck called me to help you." I explain. "Jack can you open a door back to our world?" I ask, he did it before with the Apocalypse world.

"No. No I don't think so." I know he feels so useless. I smile at him, he cares so much for everything and everyone.

"It's ok. We'll find another way." I consol. "We are no danger to your world and will comply to answering any questions you require." Dean shoots me a look but I ignore it, we have to gain their trust.

"What are your surnames?" Batman asks in that monotone only he can use.

"Zele." I speak up.

"Winchester." The brothers speak up at the same time. Which is kinda creepy if you ask me.

"Kline." Jack replies glancing at me for confirmation he was doing the right thing, I nod my head.

"Novak-Winchester" I saw Batman raise an eyebrow behind his mask. "Angels don't have surnames, the name of vessel is Jimmy Novak and the Winchesters are my family so I made that my name." Cas stated simply.

"Hold up? Vessel?" I saw Conner ask, I shot Cas a look that said 'let me handle this.'

"An angels true form can't be seen by humans less their eyes burn out, so they need vessels to walk on earth. They can't possess them without the consent of the human and the human can kick them out at anytime. However Jimmy died years ago when Lucifer, more commonly known as Satan or the Devil blew up Cas' vessel which was re-built by Chuck who was God in our world before he became human and passed the title onto Jack." I saw the team gaping at what I just said all bar Robing, Batman and Superboy.

"So," Robin said, "you team consists of three trained humans, one angel and one god who was or is also a Nephilim?" I smiled he was so close.

"Not quite Boy Wonder, Jack isn't a god, he is God. He's still a Nephilim, biological child of Lucifer to be exact but he chose Castiel as his father and takes after his mother." I corrected, hell explaining was tiring.

"Why do all look like you've seen the world end?" Asked Superman. This was a question I'd rather not answer, we all had trauma but this was gonna open major wounds.

"Because we have. Sam's been stuck in Lucifers cage with him and Michael the Arch-angle and tortured, he also lost his soul for a time and lost all moral compass. Oh, he and Dean both lost their Mum too the prince of Hell Azazel and then they were dragged around by their ex-marine father hunting before Sam got out and went to school only to find Azazel killed his girlfriend Jessica." Sam actually had it the easiest.

"Dean has bore the Mark of Cain, been a demon, escaped Hell and been a vessel for a Michael from another world where the apocalypse wasn't stopped. Michael and his angels killed off nearly all of that world including the humans. We all went there as an attempt to stop him but when he can Lucifer got into our world Dean agreed to become his vessel to kill Lucifer but Michael took over Deans mind and made him do horrific things." I saw from there body language the hero's understood. They must've seen some shitty things too.

"Jack was hated by Heaven and hunted by angles and demons, led the effort against the war on Michael and lost people, he also had his grace stolen by Lucifer and was human for a time. Oh and though he looks like and has the mind of a 16 year old he's only 1 year old, comes with being Nephilim, they grow up as fast or slow as they like." That made a few of the hero's grimace. Guess hearing a 1 year old went through that was a surprise to say the least.

"Cas was hunted by Heaven and Hell, tortured repeatedly, fought in all versions of the apocalypse, became Lucifers vessel, fought both versions of Michael, had his grace stolen making him human, been a vessel for the leviathans, had his memories wiped, died and come back along with the rest of us and annoyed an ancient deity who control the Empty which is where angels and demons go when they die." Cas had had the hardest time out of all of us in my opinion.

"As for me I've been summoned by God, fought against the darkness with Sam, Dean and Cas, fought Amadeus who's a prince of Hell and fought in the war against Michael." I finish seeing all the hero's shell shocked even those like Batman and Robin who hid their emotions.

"Have you killed anyone?" I sighed, Superman had to ask that didn't he?

"We all have. In our there's not much choice, vampires can only be cured if they haven't fed, werewolf can't be cured, witches either bargain with demons or get power hungry and kill civilians and angels and demons both need vessels, we exorcise the demons we can but with angels and some demons we have to kill them meaning the vessel too. Then there was the time Jack lost control and killed people, we all have. Jack and Mary, Sam and Deans mother who was brought back by god's sister Amara led a effort to stop Michael which resulted in casualties." I see the look on Superman's face but the truth was the truth. "Those monsters kill people, same as every other monster in our world, sometimes we don't have a choice." I mumble the last bit as I remember pushing a knife into my brothers heart, a tear runs down my cheek.

"We need you to come with us." I hear protests coming from my family.

"We can't trust them Charlie." States Dean I glance at him then Cas and sigh.

"I'm not asking you to trust them. I'm asking you to trust me." I glance at Jack first, please trust me I pray to the Cas and Jack.

"I do trust you." Jack is the first to speak.

"Very well." Cas surrenders.

"Fine." I hear Dean groan.

"We have made a deal on less." Sam admits.

"Thankyou." I say, hopefully this doesn't bit me in the ass. "Let's go." I glance at Batman and nod.

In that second I know.

"We'll find our way home."

Masterlist

#Jack Kline X reader #Castiel X reader (plutonic)#sam X reader (plutonic)#Dean X reader (plutonic)#YJ #SPN #Batman #Robin #KF #GA #BlackCanary #Superman #Superboy

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sohannabarberaesque · 11 months

Text

Thus ensued the most unlikely return of one Touché Turtle unto Dum-Dum

And to think if all ensued during what was bound to be an otherwise dull Sunday afternoon on a houseboat somewhere along the Upper Mississippi River in the general vicinity of Cassville, Wisconsin. An afternoon which found such unlikely canine buddies as Bristlehound and Dum-Dum in a somewhat modest-looking (though not ratty) houseboat just relaxing and taking stock of their canine selves.

And to know that it was just north of Cassville that Touché Turtle, admittedly a somewhat foppish fencing partner to be had (as well as superhero-on-call), was himself floating away on his shell on the Father of Waters singing "Cruising Down the River (On a Sunday Afternoon)" out of ennui and otherwise not in distress. Fortunately, Touché was floating close to the houseboat when the sheer attention of his old sparring buddy, Dum-Dum, was noted (Bristlehound was obviously piloting the houseboat).

It just seemed that Touché was up to his old antics (or what passed for them) when Dum-Dum came over to the houseboat deck's edge and quickly scooped his former buddy from the water and unto the houseboat.

"O Touché!" screamed Dum-Dum excitedly all this time. "So where have you been exactly?!"

"Dum-Dum," explained Touché, "I have to admit that we've practically lost touch all this while. Our paths just seemed to, you might say ... diverge at the proverbial fork in the road."

"No hard feelings, Touché," Dum-Dum explained. "But then again, I've taken up houseboating, as you probably must have surmised, with a certain Bristlehound. He can get to be a likable sort of fellow.

Which had Bristlehound taking notice of such an unlikely companion in the houseboating journey: "So this is none other than the legendary Touché Turtle!"

With a little snark inherent, Touché remarked, "Who did you think I was, Lambsy?"--getting something of a hearty laugh from Bristlehound, who remarked, "Lambsy, you might like to know, was just an innocent little spring lamb who was forever being threatened by a certain snarky ol' wolf named Mildew ... and Mildew practically resented my taking issue with trying to eat Lambsy on my watch!"

"Which may explain," remarked Touché, "his since joining up with a group of divers led by Peter Potamus; I believe you've heard of that diving crew."

"And a rather intrepid such at that, Touché!" added Bristlehound.

"Oh," Dum-Dum remarked, "I suppose you've heard that Mildew has also teamed up with the two other wolves in Peter's troupe, as in Loopy De Loop and Hokey Wolf, and became diving stars in their own right."

Which, to hear Touché Turtle parse it, "has got to be rather interesting! I think I may have seen some of Peter Potamus' diving videos out there, and I think they're a rather casual sort of bunch."

"Especially in the diving department," Bristlehound responded. "Now, if we can just find a modest little cafe or tavern along the river for a little reunion dinner of sorts ..."

#hanna barbera #fanfiction #fanfic #bristlehound #touché turtle and dum dum #houseboating #unlikely reunion #hannabarberaforever

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terrence-silver · 2 years

Note

Terry of course loves piano, and there could be a beautiful intimacy between him and Beloved if they were a good, even excellent, musician too. A rare harmony that needs nothing but them. Only in duets, the piano is often there to make the other instrumentalist shine. He'd need to take a bit of a backseat for the music, or it won't sound right. To connect beyond the physical then, always in charge Terry would have to play a supporting role. Could he do that, if it meant getting closer to his Beloved? (They play each other solos too, of course, but there's no question they would want to play together.)

For Terry, the temptation of 'playing beloved under a table' as it were is always there. Always present. To be in control and in charge of the melody? It never goes away. But, being a back-up instrumental on the same piano while beloved is joining him for a duet has its perks; beloved's tune doesn't sound the same without him. In fact, if Terry stopped, the whole song would falter and Terry, with undoubtedly a trained musical ear would know that. He'd know the difference --- so would beloved. He is still in control while taking the proverbial backseat so beloved can have their moment. He guides the notes and beloved shines through him, for him, with him. That, or he can sing as another way of establishing an upper hand. Which he very likely would.

I have a feeling Terry has a voice --- a really good singing voice.

Sure, beloved can be a brilliant star with him not playing at all, merely sitting beside them, watching, observing --- keenly so --- but he will keep an equal footing, if not outshining them by merely singing along to their playing. They're harmonious, while both of them still seamlessly battling for control. They're one yet they're in combat expressed through music. Beloved might not be able to fight in a classical way, using their body as a weapon the way Terry can, but they can fight him through melody alone and Terry would sing until he's the the one in the lead again. They are a team. A party. A couple. A cohesive whole, sure. Beautiful in their togetherness. Passionate. Yet Terry still manages to win all while it seems like he’s allowing himself to harmonize uniting singing and playing.

Unless beloved is a talented singer too, they aren’t walking out of this triumphant.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #yandere #old man terry #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #had to include singing as a headcanon #considering tig is gifted in that regard as well

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afraidofchange · 1 year

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Captain Ana Amari was once on top of the world.

As a descendent of the widely renowned Amari family, Ana hailed from a long line of high-ranking, highly decorated soldiers, spanning across five generations. She rose to the top of the ranks in the Egyptian military like her predecessors, specializing in the art form that is sniping. She spent a majority of her time in the army in a unit protecting the people of her home country from the omnic crisis, keeping their distance but making their presence known. They were a force to be reckoned with, standing proud as Egypt’s defenders in the war, fitted with cybernetic enhancements to help keep their citizens safe.

Ana was a natural born leader, and it came as no surprise when the United Nations requested Captain Amari to assist in the foundation of the international task force ‘Overwatch.’ She was one of three soldiers who saw active front-line duty in her day to day life, providing the expertise needed to combat the growing omnic rebellion that the rest of the world struggled to fight.

But before her involvement with the Omnic Crisis, Ana became a mother to Fareeha, raising her while actively participating in her military career. Over the years of her involvement with Overwatch, she raised her daughter among heroes, giving Fareeha many people to idolize and respect as she grew up.

Ana was promoted to Second-in-Command of Overwatch after Reyes’ split into the spec-ops shadow Blackwatch and Morrison’s promotion to Strike Commander, but she struggled to maintain working behind the ‘desk’, preferring to remain in the field with her team of talented individuals as much as humanly possible. She maintained her leadership role, becoming one of the many prominent faces of the organization, saving the world time and time again.

She served well into her fifties, taking lives as necessary but never in excess, refusing to simply wound. One shot, one kill. The tally marks etched into her rifle represented the lives she took, but served as an active reminder of guilt for taking others from their families and friends. Protecting the innocent and those she loved, however, remained her utmost important goal. Her team called her “Mama Bear” for her motherly presence, caring and knowing each member of her team as if they were her own children. She watched over them and protected them; they were her family, just as much as her own child was.

Perhaps even more so.

And perhaps, problematically, she kept Fareeha at arms’ length, away from Overwatch and away from the heavy, heavy guilt she carried upon her shoulders. She didn’t want this life for her daughter, wrought with guilt for doing what had to be done. But all Fareeha wanted was to be a hero, saving the world like her mother and friends did. This tension was often a source of fights between Ana and a teenage Fareeha, made more difficult when Ana would send Fareeha to see her father Sam across the world, out of harm’s way.

However, it was in a mission of rescuing hostages from Talon when things turned for the worst. Ana had never expected to see a familiar face wearing the mask of her enemy; Amélie Lacroix, who had been taken by Talon, missing for the time after killing her husband. In this moment, Ana HESITATED, and it was enough for Widowmaker to take the shot. Not only did it cost her cybernetic eye, it cost her PRIDE. The mission was a FAILURE by all counts; she hesitated, she lost, and she was left for dead by the people she believed in. She was knocked off her proverbial pedestal, and wounded so deeply that pretending to be DEAD to the world was a better choice than facing her failures as a soldier, as a sniper, and as a protector. The lives lost that day were because of her MISTAKE.

She chose to stay hidden in the protective shadows of death itself, fearing that should she surface, Talon would not hesitate in targeting her daughter instead. So, Ana Amari chose to stay dead - and she changed, too.

She was once a proud, confident, and secure woman who never hesitated. Not in battle, not in her daily life. Her duty belonged to the military and to Overwatch, protecting the innocent and ensuring that justice was served. Her focus was on her career, balancing it with motherhood in equal measure. She was proud to be one of the faces of Overwatch to the world, recognized for her efforts by those who looked up to them as HEROES.

Ana went into hiding after recovering from the loss of her eye. She knew the technology existed to replace what she lost, but she never pursued it. Her recovery took her nearly a year, to adjust to the loss of her enhanced sight, learning how to shoot right-handed with her left eye became a challenge. She wrote to Fareeha to tell her the truth,but never received an answer - which was what the Captain had expected. She had left when they weren’t on the greatest of terms, seeing her daughter follow the path Ana didn’t want her to. Instead, she repaired her rifle from the damage, utilizing Ziegler’s technology for more than just healing. It took her many months to perfect it, and her shot. In that time, Ana spent a lot of it “soul searching”, struggling to find her identity that was lost with the incident.

She became a shell of her former glory, hidden away from the world with her wounded pride slowly nursing it back to full health by taking up bounty hunting. It still protected the innocent from harm, but it was not a glorified position. It took lives all the same, but her guilt was absolved. She was a nobody, taking life for payment. She took up religion, finding identity within its organization, and her prayers to Allah were often the only words she spoke for many days and weeks on end in her travels. An eye patch covered her missing eye, her hijab and hood covered her head, and keep her identity hidden. She took on bounties as a means to sharpen her skills again, but without being in the public eye, without having the same GLORY for taking lives.

The eye of Horus branded her as a protector, and remained the only marker that resembled the Ana Amari that died. Only a certain few would recognize her, behind the coverings and the age that had accumulated on her features in such a short time.

Coming back to the recalled Overwatch after word of the second Omnic crisis felt like it was an obligation. Ana felt she was ready to make her return because she was needed to protect her people, and the ones she loved. It wasn’t going to be easy, but continuing a dirty job was not Ana - it never had been, but it had been her way of coping for her losses. She returned more HUMBLE, more thankful for what she still had in her life, but her skills could never be taken from her, nor could her pride in all that she had done in her life. She remained a proud mother, and a proud soldier, but her appreciation was far more quiet.

Her return is not necessarily about restoring personal glory, but doing what she has dedicated her life to doing - protecting the innocent.

#ANA AMARI: HEADCANON #long post /#[ the second half i copy pasted from my old blog but i also still need to talk about her renewed spirituality and religion ]

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thepavementsings · 2 years

Video

youtube

@4:12 - 4:20

I had to copy my own tags in here lol BC the last ones disappeared maybe because there is a limit maybe bc tumblr is CENSORING my bravery. So here are the tags that WERE on here:

Yuki gets sick of all of Pierre’s games!!

Has had enough of the shoulder shoves and the proverbial (and real) pigtail pulling and Pierre telling him he is *cute* like a tele tubby

He doesnt want to be cute He wants to be taken seriously and he knows how he’s gonna get it

next time they get asked to do some sort of promo at the red bull athletic centre he decides to beat Pierre at his own game

Yuki peels his sweaty shirt over his shoulders and smirks to himself when he catches Pierre’s eyes roam his torso

Before he steps into the ring with whatever wrestling instructor they’ve brought in for this shoot

(He will buy Caroline in marketing an extra drink at the next team dinner for this one.)

Yuki lets Pierre pin him down. Knows Pierre is more pliable when he thinks he owns the room.

He wiggles his arms dramatically and huffs out a “not fair! That is cheating to go so early” just to watch Pierre’s eyes brighten in victory

“You try to be quicker next time” Pierre is goading now. Yuki takes it as his opportunity to shift his hips up into Pierres thighs, feigning an escape attempt

Pierre grip on Yuki’s wrist falters and Yuki smiles as he breathes back ‘and what if I wanted to let you win’

And then Pierre is practically dragging him into the change rooms as soon as the production team yells cut. Yuki doesn’t think he’s being particularly subtle; the grip on his wrist is and the smile on Pierre’s face as they pass by their trainers is playful but there’s a desperation in the speed of his strides that gives away just how wound up he really is.

They round the corner and Yuki’s back is pinned up against a locker door immediately. Pierre’s mouth is on his chest before Yuki can get a word out. tongue splayed flat against his nipple and pushing into his flesh.

Yuki’s hand is in Pierre’s hair immediately. Grasping at the strands and dipping his chin to try and catch Pierre’s lips with his own

But Pierre doesnt lift his head from where he works at he red patches blooming on Yuki’s torso.

Fine, Yuki thinks to himself. If Pierre can’t bring himself to look Yuki in the eye, he’ll make him pay attention some other way

He unlatches himself from Pierre just enough to spin himself around.laughing at the way Pierre’s teeth immediately find his shoulder and his hands form a vice grip at his hips

He pushes back into Pierre taking his own dick in his hand and not even bothering to stifle a moan and he feels large hand drag up and down his thighs and grasp at the swell of his ass

He turns his head just enough to see Pierre’s eyes shift as he chokes out a ‘hit me’

He feels the loss of heat immediately. Pierre stepping back and holding his hands out from his sides like they aren’t his own

He sputters out half an apology before he’s out the door leaving behind his Red Bull sweatshirt and Yuki with his shorts around his ankles and a half hard dick

#sp*nking fic #essentially #make them fix it somehow and then theyre in love ok byeeeeee #yukierre #annoyed about my tags not working lol but whatverrr

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divineblccd · 2 years

Text

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Cassie Sandsmark aka Wonder Girl FACECLAIM: Sabrina Carpenter AFFILIATIONS: Teen Titans, Young Justice, the Nomads AGE: 21 SPECIES: Demi-God

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? Public POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Flight, Superhuman Abilities, Electrokinesis (ish) WEAKNESSES: Several of her powers/weapons are linked to controlling her emotions, and Cassie is…not great at this. She’s weaker against projectile weapons like arrows and bullets than she is against blunt force.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT? No. Again, Diana heavily influenced her decision, but after Cassie saw how the ISA treated metas, she knew it was the right decision. However, she does occasionally spiral in self-doubt and wonders if she’s too dangerous to go unmonitored

CHARACTER BIO —

Cassie grew up like a lot of kids in Gateway City: idolizing Wonder Woman and getting into trouble to pass the time. She never really knew where it came from, but there had always been an itch underneath her skin that seemed impossible to satiate, no matter how many fights she got into. Cassie bounced around from school to school, never staying long enough to make friends. The only constant in her life was her mother and her Museum. She could only play on her Gameboy for so long while waiting for her mom to finish her work at the Gateway City Museum of Antiquities. What was a restless girl to do when she was surrounded by ancient artifacts and weapons but ignore all the ‘do not touch’ signs? It helped when Diana showed up. Superhuman patience appeared to be one of Wonder Woman’s many powers because she put up with Cassie’s endless chatter and demands for attention. All Cassie wanted was to be like Diana, to be like Donna, to be a hero. She practiced with swords she wasn’t supposed to touch and watched tape after tape of Wonder Girl’s appearances in the news. So, when Zeus asked her what she wanted in exchange for helping Wonder Woman take down Doomsday and Decay, she didn’t have to think about her answer. A hero. She wanted to be a hero.

Zeus granted her wish. He gave her superpowers, similar to Diana’s, and after convincing her very reluctant mother, she trained with Artemis to become worthy of her gift. Cassie eventually earned the Wonder Girl mantle with Donna’s blessing and retired costume. Sometimes, she had to pinch herself to believe it. As Wonder Girl, Cassie joined Young Justice and grew close to Cissie, Anita, and Tim. She finally had friends her own age, and she was living her ultimate dream–but like most things in Cassie’s life, it didn’t last long. After Donna was killed, Cassie was devastated and the team was disbanded. It was her first time experiencing true loss. Her father, so she was told, died before she was born. The grief had been mostly second-hand, a dull longing for someone she made up in her head. Donna’s death was sharp and jagged in all the worst ways. The pain awakened something inside of her, something that she liked to pretend didn’t exist.

Eventually, Cassie couldn’t ignore it. She joined Teen Titans and later learned that her father was Zeus. She had been lied to by the people she trusted the most; she could feel the rage that had always been simmering beneath the surface erupt. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), Ares gave Cassie her own mythical lasso, but instead of truth, her lasso expelled lightning fueled by wrath. Her superhuman abilities, on the other hand, were weakening with no apparent reason. Being Wonder Girl was all Cassie had ever wanted, so when Ares told her that Zeus was the reason her powers were disappearing, she made a deal with the devil. In exchange for Ares’s powers, Cassie would become his champion. After the proverbial ink dried, her powers became completely entwined with her anger. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and she felt like she might burn to death from the inside out. After Kon died, she almost did.

Cassie’s powers became unmanageable. It was easy, almost natural, to give into the rage. Ares was the God of War, after all, and she was supposed to be his champion. She realized that she was becoming the very thing she sought to destroy, but it was too late. Her nephew Lycus, the son of Ares, took advantage of her instability and attacked her in order to claim the title of Ares’s avatar and her powers. He was able to take the powers that Ares gave her, but through a nearly fatal battle Cassie discovered that she no longer needed to use powers from other gods. She had divine power flowing through her blood. She defeated Lycus with a level of super-strength that she had never possessed before.

She used her new powers to lead the Teen Titans, and now she hopes that she can do something to prove to herself that she’s worthy of being called a hero.

#srisingintro

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elendiliel · 2 years

Text

Hidden in Plain Sight

I’m afraid this is a bit of a rush job, but I wanted to post it before Kenobi comes out tomorrow.

---

He sensed her the moment he entered the room. The cantina was crowded, and he had learned not to be too open to the Force even so far from the Empire’s centre, but she shone out like a beacon combined with a firework display. Careless of her – or perhaps cause for alarm. He favoured the former option; her metaphorical colours might be muted by years, grief and weariness, but she was still a source of light, untouched by any more darkness than every person always carried with them. Still a true Jedi, hiding in plain sight.

It took him a while to locate her physically; she had altered her appearance out of almost all recognition. Her hair was lighter in colour, straighter (somehow), hiding her distinctive ears; her naturally striking face looked positively plain. But her eyes, though no longer quite so dark, constantly scanning the people around her – waiting for someone, or watching for threats? – were as intense as they had always been, and just as full of love and compassion. Any Inquisitor close enough to see them would suspect her of being a Jedi, or at least a sympathiser, on sight. There was no point in her concealing her Force-presence, even had she known how, which he doubted. She’d been knighted at eighteen, after all, and was so straightforward by nature that even the physical disguise must have been difficult to accept. It wouldn’t protect her, but it might prevent the Empire from tracking down her friends and allies, whose lives she valued more than her own.

Perceptive though she was, she hadn’t sensed him yet. He was partly shielding himself out of habit, and her regular Force-scans seemed directed towards potential sources of danger and particular friends – or perhaps family members. Besides, they hadn’t known one another well, even before everything changed. He knew her by sight, of course; as the only representative of her species then in the Order, she’d stood out like the proverbial sore thumb despite her best efforts. She had sparred occasionally with his apprentice, teaching him a few things along the way. And after her master’s untimely death, he had looked out for her, quietly and unobtrusively, careful not to let her realise the fact. She had needed to develop self-confidence and learn to trust herself as well as the people around her, and knowing that she had not one but two advocates on the Council would not have been helpful in that regard.

As it was, she had grown up so much just in the three years of the war, three years that had felt like an eternity, and the trend had continued in the intervening decade and more. She had been twenty-one when he had last seen her, the respected if unconventional leader of a strike team that had had quite a reputation; now, she must be approaching forty, and an enemy of the state. And, if he were any judge, a teacher. He couldn’t quite verbalise why he thought that, though words had once been part of his trade; perhaps it was just how tired she seemed, deep down.

He was also certain she was actively involved in the rebellion against the Empire. Partly because he couldn’t imagine her standing by while others suffered; partly because of her body language, still that of a warrior; partly because of the way she was dressed, in a practical tunic and trousers that were as close to Jedi robes as she could safely get (and still in white and blue), with a DC-17 at her hip, her sgian dubh in her boot (the Jedi symbol on the hilt hidden from view) and a quarterstaff hanging by its strap from the back of her chair, over a black jacket. He hoped this wasn’t her latest target; the last thing he needed was the Empire taking an interest in that planet.

With only moderate difficulty, he made his way over to her table (one of the few with available seats; he doubted that was a coincidence) and sat down beside her. Quietly, so that nobody else could hear (not for the first time), he asked, “Young Abbasa, isn’t it?”

“Nobody’s called me that for a long time.” Helli brought her full attention to bear on him. It was her all right. And she had recognised him at last. “Master Kenobi.”

---

The story continues (from Helli’s perspective) in my fic Master and Commander. If you want to find out what happens next, that is the story you are looking for.

#star wars #The Clone Wars #jedi oc #original jedi characters #Obi-Wan Kenobi #fanfic

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