A/N: Bucky is tired and needy and just wants to cuddle. (who. fuckin’. wouldn’t?!)
If there was ever something more adorable than Bucky being tired or in any way not feeling well, you’d never seen it. Now, the serum made sure he was never not feeling well, but it didn’t help exhaustion after a week long mission with only 2 hours of sleep a day.
This is why he came stumbling into your floor, somehow overriding every security protocol with his left over spy-skills, calling out your name at two in the morning.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader Genre: Fluff, a lot of smut Warnings: Mature content Word Count: 4.4K
His voice was almost a whisper, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear. And the heat coupled with the slow, savory movements of his fingers overtop the thin fabric had an almost numbing effect, your mind drawing a blank as you enter an intoxicating haze.
“I thought there was no punishment?” you manage to say, swallowing back the moans that threatened to escape. “This is a demonstration baby, not a punishment.”
*mentioning an Embarassing Pidge Moment to lance* *from the next room over* “MATT I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I’LL HACK THE TRAINING BOT AND KICK YOU IN THE BALLS SO HARD YOU CANT HAVE KIDS” *pause* “ - yeah, well, jOKES ON YOU CAUSE I’M GAY” “YOU SAY THAT LIKE I CANT HEAR SHIRO FUCKING YOU THROUGH THE WALL”
shiro: *dad voice over the intercom* DONT MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE YOU TWO
“after you, sir matthew” “why thank you, sir lonce” “here let me get that chair for you sir matthew” “sir lonce!! dont go out of your way!” “oh its my pleasure sir!” “thank you sir!!” “yes sir!!” “GUYS.”
matt is the ultimate wingman cause he’s been in space so long
“oh my man lance here? he’s the best sharpshooter in the resistance, oh and i cant even tell you what he can do with a jankoplanker…” *cue eyebrow wiggle and blushing alien*
prank war with lance & matt vs keith & pidge = a hurricane, a tornado, and several fires throughout the castle
draw mustaches and monocles on knocked out galra soldiers
A/N: Um don’t act like this gif doesn’t make you fucking weak cause I’m 100% shook. Also pls enjoy this part, still setting up everything before it gets really juicy 💖 (and it’s about to get really juicy)
You woke up alone. You were about to rub your eyes until you realized you still had makeup on from last night. Instead, you sat up and allowed your body to wake up a little more. Dangling your legs off the side, you slipped off the bed. The plush carpeting welcomed your feet and you sleepily made your way to the kitchen. Upon entering, you saw Sebastian seated at the island, with a plate in front of him and a full glass of orange juice. There was another empty plate and a glass of orange juice beside him, which you assumed was for you.
Okay, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for a while.
This whole mage templar dispute thing - it’s driving me nuts. I was recently looking at statistics as to how many people sided with the templars vs those who sided with mages, and I just - ugh. There was an outrageous amount of people that sided with the mages - most in fact. Okay fine, I get why people sided with mages. I do get why, however, when I say I understand why, that does not mean, for any reason, that I agree with that decision.
And here’s why.
Let me first explain why I get why people sided with the mages - for Pete’s sake, I always play as a mage. They’re the freaking best, and I think their story is amazing.
I totally understand the mage oppression thing. Mages are being oppressed and treated completely unfairly by these templars. Meredith is fucking nuts, and the chantry is supporting it - or, in Kirkwall, becoming a neutral party which doesn’t help anyone.
Templars are out of control, and people view them as heroes, because propaganda and gossip coupled with horror stories about crazy rampant mages plague the streets. People see templars as the ones who can protect them. So, given this, as in any society, templars are given reign to be able to treat these mages badly, and people advocate for their imprisonment.
Mages are being unfairly ripped from their homes, and parents never to be able to see their children again is a huge issue. These mages are allowed little to no freedom, and they are basically kept in a Circle for their entire lives. They are even thought to be the Maker’s “unwanted” children, and are taught to feel terrible about themselves, which is completely wrong.
Mages are also thought to be able to snap at any moment, and that the majority are actually insane blood mages looking for newborn children to sacrifice. Now, the side that argues mage freedom is the side that firmly believes that these mages should be free because not all mages are like that, not all are crazy blood mages, and a lot of them are better people than most. They’re clearly at a disadvantage in society, and viewed as a major threat, which isn’t true of all mages. It’s unfair, and the fear that’s associated with these people is out of control.
For the most part - this is true! Most mages want nothing more than to live peaceful lives. I completely - TOTALLY understand that, and definitely agree.
If given freedom, these mages have power that could help so many people! They would also be much less likely to be prone to blood magic because they’ve been backed into a corner and have no choice. If they were given this freedom, mages would be able to thrive and wouldn’t go to such drastic measures to protect themselves, which templars CLEARLY provoke inside them.
Is that right? Is that a pretty good explanation?
Right, now listen to my side.
Mages. Are. Fucking. Dangerous. It doesn’t matter what anyone says about control. One of my absolute favorite lines from DA2 is Fenris’s quote that goes: “I have no doubt that mages can be good and decent men, able to resist temptation. But how many temptations do you wish to offer a man before he will give in?” This is the absolute truth for these mages. They are offered ultimate power every single time they close their eyes, or are backed into a corner. Some are stronger than others and are able to resist this, but there are many mages out there that are given this incredible power and have absolutely no idea what to do with it or how to use it - or worse yet, abuse it.
They’re dangerous. There’s no getting around that fact. They’re dangerous, badass, and extremely powerful. They are able to tap into the essence of the fade and create and do things that no normal man can - and when one says that a mage’s power is like that of a templar’s sword - a templar isn’t able to set an entire city on fire or summon an army of demons with a swish of his blade - whereas a mage has every ability to do so with a wave of their hand.
You cannot compare. You can’t.
Let me also make something very clear - there is so much evidence in Dragon Age lore that proves that not all mages are born with the innate willpower to be able to muster and master this power. Weak or strong, in either case, each is given the exact same amount of power. The weak cannot handle this power, and therefore fall prey to powerful demons - which result in death and destruction. The powerful, or even borderline powerful, have a much better chance at mastering this ability, and are therefore born with the ability to control magic.
Mages are susceptible to possession and summoning beings of great power, they are capable of burning down a city - a SINGLE man in one instance is capable of this destruction. And if one feels threatened, even a little, it takes but a slip of the mind to allow a demon to enter and turn them into an abomination.
Mages have power beyond comprehension, and a lot of it hasn’t even been explored yet. This exposure to the fade allows them this ability, and though there are those who are able to control this power, not every mage is like this. And therefore incredibly dangerous.
So, with that, it is no surprise that the Circle was created. And it makes SENSE. Come on people, the Circle is absolutely necessary. Mages are capable of being a danger to others and themselves! The Circle was meant to teach them how to control this. The Circle’s creation was meant to be a safe place for mages to practice their magic and master is so that they can eventually become successful citizens of Thedas without being a danger to themselves or others.
However, now the Circle is a prison, as the templars have turned it into that, and its former purpose has been skewed.
This is where the debate gets tricky.
The Circle is necessary, definitely, but it absolutely needs reformation. It cannot continue to treat these people this badly and lock them up. That’s why it’s so important that mages are put in these Circles and taught how to control their magic. And when they can, they can leave. That would be the most ideal set up. But it’s not like that, because people don’t trust them.
Which makes sense for the most part because of what they’re capable of.
Soooo, anyway, I need to get back on track here.
So, then this whole Kirkwall thing happens, and mages and templars are at each other’s throats, and finally Anders takes things into his own hands and blows up the fucking Chantry because it’s a neutral party and will inevitably incite rebellion.
Let’s break this down, shall we?
Meredith is pissed because she suspects blood magic in the ranks of the Circle, and Orsino has had it with her bullshit so he’s not taking it anymore. So they’re arguing.
At this point in the story, it makes sense for Hawke to wonder if Meredith is actually on to something, or if she’s just bullying Orsino. (In my opinion, sadly enough, I realized before it had even been revealed at the end, that the man who killed Hawke’s mother had been in cohorts with Orsino, so I would have supported the raid with that information) However, without that information, there would have been no evidence to support this raid of the tower, so the mages would absolutely have my support at this point.
Then, as Orsino goes to try and get help to calm the dispute, which I completely agree with, Anders blows up the fucking Chantry.
WORST THING YOU COULD DO MAN.
A mage, KILLED the Grand Cleric for ALL mages. He did it - in the NAME of mages.
He doomed them all, as Orsino said.
The line is so fragile at this point, that there is so little hope for mages.
But this line is where people tend to get confused who to side with - or not confused, because most people side with mages.
No, bad idea. Lemme tell you why.
I did at first, I actually was like - fine. Mages are oppressed, this needs to stop. I need to do what’s right for these innocent mages and defend them! -
- And then something happened.
During the fight, mages were turning into abominations and killing people. They were being either backed into a corner by templars, or they were using blood magic and summoning demons to protect them - but still killing people.
That was when I paused the game, sat back, and realized my mistake.
I see Anders’ bigger picture thing - but I saw an even bigger picture.
Think about this.
If you support/protect the mages - you are supporting and protecting BLOWING up the damn Chantry and all the Grand Cleric had done to keep peace, you are supporting this war and mages and that decision to kill those innocents. You’re supporting the mages who turn into abominations or resort to blood magic. You are supporting the right for mages to use their magic to kill people. You are supporting Anders. That is what everyone in Thedas would see, and therefore your credibility would be lost to the majority of the population.
So, after I thoroughly thought that through, I restarted the last bit of the game to change my decision.
I changed it because I saw the fact that in this situation, people would NEVER listen to my Hawke and what he had to say if he didn’t support the safety of the people as well as the Chantry. They wouldn’t listen to him because he would have been a mage protecting mages, and that’s all the people would have seen. The only respect he would have earned would be from the mages that fought for their lives and those who rebelled in the Circle’s throughout Thedas - and may I remind you, that is a VERY small population.
Hawke, as a mage, already gains a portion of respect from those people. What he needs is to earn the trust and respect from those who are not mages. He needs to show them that he will fight for THEIR safety and protect them from crazy mages who would blow up the damn chantry and kill thousands of innocents by turning into abominations or using blood magic.
THAT is where he needs to draw his influence.
Because of what Anders did, and HOW the war started, there was no chance that my Hawke was going to side with murderers. Because THAT, if you break it down, is exactly what he would have been doing if he sided with the mages.
Now that my Hawke is viscount of Kirkwall AND a goddamn mage, how much do you think the city respects that? He is their CHAMPION. The one who stood up for the citizens and vouched for the safety of the city. They BEGGED him to become viscount. What do you think he is capable of doing now that he is viscount? He can change the CIRCLE. NOW he has influence over these people who see a mage and RESPECT him! That is the type of mage that the people need to look up to and see to feel safe. That is where Hawke can make a change.
Instead, if you go the opposite route, the people chase you out with damn pitchforks and curse and spit at you.
Great. How much influence do you have now? Yes, he is someone that the mages respect, but that’s it. Everyone else would see him as a threat, just like the rebelling apostates.
My point is that Hawke, MAGE Hawke ESPECIALLY, should absolutely, in that situation, side with the Templars. He still doesn’t agree with Meredith, and he stands up to her by sparing the lives of mages who surrendered - WHICH GAINS THEIR RESPECT.
The all around benefits of siding with the Templars FAR outweigh the benefits of siding with the mages. If people took even two seconds to think about this, they would see that, no matter how you look at it, siding with the Templars and protecting the city is the right thing to do.
All that people see though, is the unjust that mages face, and they right away jump to this HUGE decision to start a war and side with the side that they think is innocent. Noooo, guys. NOT in this situation. This situation does not WARRANT that action! This PARTICULAR situation must have Hawke defend the people, so that they can see that this mage is a protector for all, and that he stands with the right and just and wants to bring justice to the Grand Cleric and all who died in the Chantry. THAT is what Thedas should see.
Mages need to be vouched for, I know that, and what they’re going through needs to be changed, and in the end, the war did start a movement for their fair treatment, but again, for this particular situation, siding with the Templars is the best way to go.
Hawke can still stand up and defend these mages afterwards, he can still draw his influence from being viscount and make changes through that. It’s not like he doesn’t have the chance now to do something about it - he still can! Especially now that he’s viscount - and someone that the people respect and praise for his actions to protect the city.
Think about it, if the Templars had blown up the Circle because they believe that mages were using blood magic and killing people, do you think I would have sided with the Templars?
Anyone would be able to see that what they had done was unfair and unjust and that they had gone too far. The people of Thedas would see that Meredith had gone mad, and that the templars were out of control, and therefore, this would have warranted Hawke’s action to side with the mages and bring justice.
What Anders did doomed the mages of Kirkwall and ruined chance for compromise.
Now, I can’t necessarily say what he did was…not without reason or didn’t end up serving a purpose, in that aspect I think what he did was necessary, but just because it was, this would mean that Hawke’s actions to side with the templars was also necessary. That’s tricky, I know, and one action would have to lead to the other. What Anders did ended up serving as the momentum mages needed to finally break free of the hold the templars had on them, so, as I said before, in a way this was necessary.
But so was Hawke’s decision to side with the templars.
If this doesn’t help you see the reasonable side to this - then I have no idea what will.
But yeah, that’s my side, the logic behind it had been thought through VERY thoroughly, and overall, this was the conclusion I came to-
Would you mind writing Gabe and s/o's first date? Like how he asks them, how the date develops and how it ends. Thank you
“You look fine, Gabe.”
He straightened his tie, turning his body this way and that in the mirror.
“It’s a big day, Jackie.”
“What, asking out (Y/N)?”
Gabriel span on his heels, flashing his sparkling teeth at his best friend and commander, who was sitting atop the counter, legs slightly swaying.
“Did you really have to dress up for it?”
Gabe looked down, seeing the dark grey trousers, matching jacket, white shirt and black tie.
“Nobody can resist a man in a suit. Fact.”
“What if they say no?”
“Why would they say no?”
“Who knows. You’re too confident.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Just don’t let it get to your head.”
Your brows furrowed at your holopad; Gabriel had requested you go to his office immediately.
You had been working under his command for the past few months as his admin assistant. On several occasions he had caught you looking at him out of the corner of your eye. To be fair, you couldn’t help it. His arms always seemed to be wanting to burst out of his sleeves and his thighs were were just so thick. Not to mention his dazzling smile and his natural flirtiness. Of course you were attracted to him - who wouldn’t be?
Your steps echoed down the empty hallway, your holopad and hardcopy files being carried in your arms. You managed to slip your right arm free, the weight being passed to your left. You rapped on the door.
You opened the door and stepped through, bumping the door closed with your hip.
“You wanted to see me?”
You moved forwards, placing the files on the edge of Gabriel’s desk. His was relaxed in his chair; elbows on the armrests and fingers clasped loosely in his lap, his right ankle resting on his left knee. He was waiting for you. Your cheeks heated when you saw the fitted charcoal suit he was in. The one he wore only for special occasions. Fuck.
“You’re not doing anything tonight, are you?”
“Er, not that I’m aware of.”
“Good. I’m taking you to dinner.”
“Reservations have been made at that little Italian place round the corner for 8pm. I’ve heard it’s your favorite.”
Your mouth was slightly agape, eyebrows raised. Gabriel Reyes had just asked you out to dinner.
“Wear something nice. You are dismissed.”
Your body moved automatically, picking up your holopad and darting out of the room. Your feet carried you down the hallway to your office, hurridly closing the door behind you. You leant against the door, the metal cooling your flushed skin.
What the hell just happened?
You hugged your leather jacket around your arms, the breeze making you shiver. Only ten more minutes of waiting for your boss outside of the restaurant. You’d rather be early than late. You still couldn’t get your head around how you ended up in this situation.
A hand on your shoulder brought you out of your daze.
“Not waiting for long, were you?”
“Not at all.”
Gabriel was still wearing that damned suit. You trained your eyes on his, trying not to let them roam over his toned body. He took your hand, a smirk on his lips and guided you into the restaurant.
Once you’d had a drink you began to relax a bit more. You had only ever known Gabriel professionally, and the bitter sweet taste of alcohol let you loosen up.
Dinner was fantastic as always, made even better by your attractive boss sitting opposite you. He enquired into your personal life, the drink making you slightly more loose lipped than usual. You told him your past, why you joined Overwatch and what your goals are. The restaurant seemed to become warmer, Gabriel’s eyes gazing intently and he was just listening to you, fascinated. A light dusting of pink spread across your cheeks when he offered to pay, sealed with a wink.
The cool night air was refreshing, you leaning on Gabriel’s arm for support. You were giggling like a schoolkid at his anecdotes of him and Jack in their earlier years. You really enjoyed his company. Before you knew it, he had walked you to your apartment building.
“This was lovely.” You smiled at him.
“It was. I’d love to do it again sometime.”
You tilted your head, the alcohol pushing your confidence levels.
“So.. What was this? Dinner between two friends? A date?”
His brows furrowed for a split monent.
“I was hoping it was a date.”
Your eyebrows raised, the corners of your lips turning up. You balanced on your toes to peck a kiss on his cheek.
“I was hoping it was too. Thank you for dinner.”
Now it was his turn to blush. He gently grabbed your face with both hands and leant down to place a soft kiss on your lips, making your eyes flutter shut. You felt so warm and fuzzy, a dream come true.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”
You nodded, agreeing. You didn’t trust your voice to say anything. His dark pools stared into yours as he reluctantly took his hands away, a pout on your lips.
“Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Gabe chuckled.
“So how’d it go?” Jack asked. He was standing in the doorway of his quarters, oppisite Gabriel’s.
Women are not made to be men’s playthings, solely for their pleasure to cater to their every whim and fulfill their filthiest fantasies. We are not toys automated to satisfy. We are not posable dolls unopposing every proposition. Don’t think you can come and go as you please, with us staying mute on your disrespectful disregard and shortcomings.
You aren’t entitled to anything of ours, no matter how much you have invested—imagined or otherwise. We reserve the right to change our minds at any given time. We don’t owe anything, not even an explanation. If we do give you one, don’t contort our words into unrecognizable proportions; don’t belittle our beliefs; don’t apply undue pressure that would make even the sweetest of us have to fight to resist kicking you where the most damage could be done.
Take note: women can be just as fiery, fierce, fickle, furious, frustrated, frustrating as any man. And any man who can’t see that should just keep his backwards opinion (and hands) to himself!
Narutos Sasukes Madaras and Tobiramas reaction to their s/o braiding their hair when they wake up 😍
I don’t know if you expected these to be cute- but I thought they were all kinda comical- this was fun to make.
Did you want gifs- I didn’t read this right and I made it gifs anyways…
Haha- he’s kinda surprised and confused, because his hair is so short. But he’s also a bit impressed, because you’re managing to braid it somehow??
Sasuke actually has a soft spot for his S/O playing with his hair. He’s also more affectionate in the morning right after he wakes up, so he’ll probably cuddle more and just be really content. Keep playing with it, he’ll be happy.
He already knows he has the hair of a god, so he’s used to you messing around with it. Normally, he tries to limit how much you play around with it, but the fact that you have resorted to messing with it even when he’s asleep leaves him with this expression. Expected better of you, but man, who can resist the mane?
Summary: Poe and you have been together for two years, and missions were a part of his daily life. You had accepted it. The last one he mentioned but never told you how long it would take. It had been two weeks. Were you overreacting?
Word Count: 3133
You did it! You finished another simulated mission with minimal damage to the ship and the task completed with more than two minutes to spare. “A new record!” your supervisor told you and patted you on the back. “You deserve it.”
You nodded. “Well, I worked to get this far.”
“Where are you going?”
You looked around. You groaned. Again. Usually, at this time, you’d go to Poe’s room and tell him about what you did in training. However, Poe had been on a mission for the last two weeks, and it blew your schedule out of the water. You jogged back to your supervisor. “Sorry. Habit.”
Your supervisor hummed with raised eyebrows. “How long have you two been together?”
You blushed. “Uh, I believe it’s been almost two years.”
“Thanks.” You giggled. People must have thought the two of you were crazy. For two years you’ve been together, and every time one of you hears the other’s name you still blush like first loves.
Over the speakers, a voice announced, “Starfighter Unit-” and was interrupted by the clamor of people racing to the loading bay.
“Wait, what unit?” you asked.
Your supervisor shrugged.
You shook your head and ran to the landing bay. Maybe that was Poe’s unit. Maybe he was back from his top secret mission. He was a brilliant pilot, one of the best. General Organa even said so. He should be-
There were many starfighters of different sorts. One was missing, but the pilot was secure at another base from what you heard. You stared at one of the ships. What unit was it? Maybe it was his.
You tore your gaze from the empty ship. “Oh, Myung, how are you?” You peeked over his shoulder.
Myung looked behind him and sighed. “It’s not his unit, you know?”
You stomped your foot and cursed under your breath.
The man laughed. “You know Poe’s coming back.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you away from the loading bay.
You sighed. “It’s been two weeks. What could he possibly be doing?”
Your friend smiled. “Poe Dameron always comes back. You know, as he always says-”
“I can fly anything, anytime, anywhere and be back before you notice I’m gone,” you both finished. Myung continued, “Tell me again how exactly you fell for the most egotistical pilot in the Resistance.”
“No clue.” You poked Myung in the chest. “Tell me again how exactly you became the best friend of the most egotistical pilot and,” you puffed out your chest, “the best student pilot of the Resistance.”
Myung raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the student pilot?”
You elbowed Myung, and the two of you laughed. However, your laughter was cut short. A man in uniform and a march in his step approached the two of you. His eyes softened at the sight of you, even though you didn’t recognize him. He told Myung, “Lieutenant Joon, you are needed for a mission briefing. Results have come back.”
Myung nodded and gave you a quick hug. “I’ll see you later. May the force be with you.”
“May the force be with you, Myung.”
With one last look at the field, you started back to your training. You were one of the most dedicated students. Many said that if it weren’t for protocol, you’d be a pilot already. It was mostly, because, in times of war, you didn’t really have much to do besides training. You trained after hours and before. When in doubt, you were training.
You didn’t even notice two hours had passed until you saw Myung pass by. And he looked horrible. He looked sick. His skin was pale and you could see the bluish veins on his forehead. He was wringing his hands so fast that you were sure his skin would shed if he continued. His eyes were so focused on the ground, he didn’t even look up when you tapped him on the shoulder.
He jerked and grabbed your wrist and stepped to the side, ready to throw your over.
You’ve sparred with him before, so you easily evaded the attack by kicking him in the back of the knee so he lost his balance. You pushed him down to the floor by the shoulder. “Myung!”
He stared at you and gulped. “Sorry, (Y/n). I-” He stuttered.
You held out a hand for him to grab and helped him up. You rubbed his shoulder. “Are you ok?”
Myung nodded frantically. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.” He shuddered a little. Once his eyes met yours, he quickly looked away. “Uh, sorry. And thanks for, uh, helping me.” He glanced around. “I’ve gotta go.”
You pulled him back. “Myung,” your tone dropped and you suddenly had the voice of a general, “what happened?”
He shook his head, his eyes glazing over with fear. Fear of what? You didn’t know. It could’ve been a load of things, really. Despite having a low status as Lieutenant, he still had a title. They told him the most general things that they kept away from the public. Where the Resistance would strike next, what information was still needed, and such. However, most news like that never struck fear into Myung so immensely. The only thing that would…
Your eyes widened in realization. “Myung, where’s Poe?” It all made sense. Poe was sent on a mission he didn’t tell you about, meaning it was classified or so simple it didn’t require a description. Either way, two weeks for such a mission was unheard of. He would’ve told you if it was that long. He would’ve!
Where could he be? If it was a simple mission, he could be stranded on a planet with no resources and just needed to be picked up by another pilot. But, that couldn’t be possible. Myung wouldn’t be so pale. No, it was more dangerous than that. Poe was missing or confirmed to be taken by the First Order.
Both possibilities made you paler than Myung. Your skin iced over in less than a second. You dropped Myung’s hand and held a hand over your mouth as the inevitable cries washed over you.
Myung reached out to you. “Nothing’s confirmed-”
“When was he supposed to be here?” you choked out.
Myung gulped. He stared at his hands and said, “Now, the mission could just be taking longer. Poe could still-”
Your best friend muttered with wide eyes like he didn’t want to hear it himself, “The mission should’ve taken a day, (Y/n). He has made no contact for more than 300 hours.”
Your chest clenched and suffocated your lungs. Something was crushing your lungs, and your heart was crying to be let out. You staggered down the hall until a wall stopped you from going any further.
Poe was supposed to have been here, at the base, safe and with you, two weeks ago. The mission was so simple. What could’ve gone wrong? Several things really. He could be stranded and with no resources or communications. He could be hiding on a First Order planet with a damaged ship. Worst of all, he could’ve been taken by the First Order. He could be tortured or…
You whined right into your hand. You didn’t even notice you had leaned against the wall and fell down to the floor until your tears hit the floor which was way closer than you thought.
Myung was right by your side. He hugged you as close as he could. “We don’t know what happened. He could just be recovering-”
“No one disappears for that long.” You shivered, for even the warmth of your best friend couldn’t make your skin less cold. “One week, Myung. They give pilots one week!” You gulped. “They’re not even looking for him.”
Myung gulped. “There’s no confirmation-”
“He’s gone in the eyes of the Resistance!” you yelled. “If you don’t come back in a week from your deadline, you’re considered gone, Myung! He’s-” You stopped. You pressed your palms against your eyes and tried to staunch your tears. You couldn’t even say it. You couldn’t say what inevitably must have happened. You couldn’t believe it. The best pilot in all galaxies, the pilot who stole your heart and gladly gave you his in return, the man you loved was… He was…
News spread and soon everyone was looking at you and Myung with pity in their eyes and whispers of the tragedy. You didn’t want to hear them or look at them or feel their eyes on you, so you stayed in the silence and privacy of your own room. You had passed by his room first, but you couldn’t even look at it without gasping and crying. Your room was a tad better. The room didn’t smell like him, but the pillow he used when he was in your room did. The closet wasn’t filled with his clothes, but there were a few sweaters and shirts that you had kept that glared at you every time you open your closet. Both rooms had pictures of you and him, so neither was better at that.
He was a ghost, a phantom, in your room and his, and you forgot to breathe sometimes.
Myung came by sometimes. His eyes had bags under them, and his hands were always shaking. But, he came to give you food. The two of you would eat in silence while he wrote reports and scanned reports and authorized reports. He was never seen without his files and tablets and pencils in his sleeves.
You were never seen out of your room. You had sobbed and wailed so much the first day that you got tired of crying and fell asleep. Your dreams were filled with him and precious memories so real that you believed he was still in the base. When you woke up in the evening, tears soaked your pillow, and it reminded you of why you cried. Reality caught up, and your dreams were false. You cried again.
It became a cycle of crying, nibbling, dreaming, and repeating. The dreams were more like nightmares. You were losing hope every time you woke up.
One day, you were staring at the wall when a fight had started outside. There was banging and scuffling, and it gave you a headache. You threw your head back and tried your best to tune it out. But, since… since that happened, your patience grew thinner and thinner.
You stomped out of your bed and opened your door. “Hey! Some of us need to mourn, so excuse me if I wanted some peace and quiet!” You heaved and tears burned your eyes again. You wiped your tears and glared at the culprits.
There was a doctor with a small flashlight and bandages tucked in his belt. The other man, however, was Poe, the very Poe you lost more than three weeks before. He was disheveled. His eyes looked tired, and a bruise was forming on his cheek. There were multiple cuts on his face, and there was something obviously wrong with his left leg for his weight was all on his right. Usually, in your little nightmares, he was either well or dead, never in between.
Poe stared at you. You looked horrible. Your eyes were red. Your skin was as pale as paper. Veins decorated your skin like blue chains. You were leaning against the wall, too. Obvious signs of sleep deprivation and maybe even hunger. Guilt stabbed him in the gut. This was all his doing. If he had been more careful…
“No.” You stumbled over your feet and fell to the floor. You shut your eyes and clutched your hair. “No, come on. Wake up, (Y/n). Wake up. It’s not real. It’s not real. Just another nightmare. Another nightmare is all.” You kept on chanting those phrases to yourself. Poe was gone. You knew it. It had been three weeks, and he wasn’t coming back. You’d just wake up and feel even worse, so you had to wake up now.
“(Y/n)!” Poe shoved the doctor away and limped to you. “(Y/n), hey, it’s ok.” He reached out to brush your hair from your face.
You slapped the hand away. “No! You’re not real!” You heaved. “No, I can’t take it. Not another time. Not again. Please.” Your voice dropped to a ghost of a whisper, “Wake up, (Y/n), please.”
Poe reached out again. “(Y/n)-”
He wiped his tears. “Come on, (Y/n).” Poe hugged you to his chest and avoided your poorly aimed punches. “(Y/n), it’s me. It’s really me.”
You pounded your fists against his chest and tried pushing against his chest. However, it was no use. His warmth enveloped you, and you felt whole again. The familiar lightness and giddiness bubbled in your stomach, no matter how much you told it not to. You continued to throw your own punched at him. Right. Left. Right again.
But it was tiring. Not long after, your muscles were tired, and you couldn’t lift them without difficulty. Your body relaxed, and each curve fit exactly into his body. Two pieces of a puzzle finally joined and connected, never to be taken apart.
You sobbed. “No, it’s not real,” you whispered. You clenched your fists and scooted as much away from him as you could.
Poe pulled you in tighter. He kissed the top of your head and continued to brush his fingers through your hair. He gulped before asking, “Casanova, how can you tell if you’re dreaming?”
You froze. You hadn’t heard that nickname, let alone that question. Poe asked you that many times after a certain mission. He had come home unconscious. When he finally woke up, he was scared to sleep. He would rush to your room, for his dreams were always set on base, and ask you if he was dreaming. He’d ask you how he could tell he was dreaming.
You shook your head. “Uh, count fingers.” You stared at your hands. There were ten like they should be.
Poe held your hands and tapped each of your fingers gently. You blushed before you could stop yourself.
“Ok,” Poe smiled a brilliant smile, “ten fingers. What else?”
When he looked at you like that, words escaped your brain. His eyes were beautiful and comforting, like the cup of coffee you usually got. How is it even possible that someone with a bruise on his cheek and cuts on his forehead could still smile like the sun shines?
Poe laughed a little. “Casano-o-ova,” he sang a bit. “How else?”
“Right, uh, if I can read the same thing twice… and it doesn’t change.”
Poe pointed at his uniform. “What does it say?”
“It says, ‘Poe Dameron.’” Tears brimmed in your eyes.
He nodded. Poe brushed your hair behind your ear. “Good, you’re doing amazing, my Casanova. Now, read it one more time.”
You laughed and smiled. “Poe Dameron.” It was him. It had to be. How could a figment of your imagination be like this? So breath-takingly considerate?
“Ok, almost done. One more test, ok? You remember?”
You nodded. “Breathing even though your nose and mouth are covered.” You licked your lips. “Yeah, that’s it. Breathing when you have no way of-”
Poe was suddenly really close to you. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands were tangled in your hair. “You wanna plan this together?”
You giggled. He was real. He really was real. “Yeah.”
“So, I can cover your mouth. Try covering your nose?”
You reached out and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Good plan.” You pressed your lips against his. Tingles ran down your spine and right to your feet. His warmth, his scent, his lips were so familiar and comforting. It was like drinking a nice glass of water after a hearty and rich meal. It was refreshing, and it was home.
When Poe pulled away, he was smiling like he had won the war against the First Order. He tapped your nose. “You didn’t cover your nose, Casanova.”
With all the buzzing in your head, the only word you could say was, “Nope.”
Poe rubbed your cheek. He kissed you again. “You could be dreaming.”
“No,” you shook your head, “I couldn’t dream this up.” You ran your finger down his wounds. His many wounds. The memories of the last few weeks, the emptiness, the mourning, the pain, filled your thoughts. “You were dead. What happened to you?” You shot up to a kneeling position so you could be slightly taller than he was. You turned his head to examine the bruise. “Poe-”
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been more careful. They knew I was coming. They caught me for a while, but I escaped. And I was stranded somewhere and next thing I know-”
“Hey, I’ll scold you for whatever you did later.” You kissed his forehead, carefully avoiding the cuts. “Right now, you need the med bay.” You pulled him up from the ground and wrapped his arm around your shoulder so you could support some of his weight. You muttered his catch-phrase, “I fly this, that, there, and be back before you notice I’m gone.” You scoffed. “Before I notice. Psh!”
It had been a month since Poe had risen from the dead. You and Myung were by his side every step of the way. General Organa even stopped by sometimes.
You were watching Myung help Poe in physical therapy.
“Congratulations, Pilot,” the general greeted you.
You jerked. “General! Thank you.” You turned your attention to Myung and Poe.
General Organa stood next to you. “He has a strong heart, that man.”
You sighed. “That he does, General.”
“I take it you’re the reason for that, Ms. (Y/l/n).”
You gasped. The room got a few degrees hotter, and you could feel your cheeks and ears suffer from the heat. “What do y-you mean by that, General?” you stuttered.
The wise woman smiled and straightened her back. “I know love when I see it. You’re his, how does he say it, Casanova?”
Your cheeks were burning.
The general laughed. “Don’t worry, dear. He and you both need each other. It’s… simply breathtaking. With the First Order on the horizon and both of you as pilots, things like this are rare. Cherish it.”
You smiled softly. Poe was making so much progress. He caught you staring and waved a little. He winked at you before blowing a kiss.
You laughed and caught the kiss in your hand before pocketing it. “Trust me, General. I will.”
I got out another one!!! I am so happy to be back, guys! I missed writing these. Anyway, angst and fluff all in one. Also my OC, Myung! I love that dude. Hope you enjoy!
kuroaka assassins!au based on this answered ask i posted
tl;dr: kuroo is an assassin hired to kill akaashi, akaashi figures out he’s being watched, he manages to catch kuroo and then uses….. v special means for his interrogation method B)
Kuroo is hired to kill him. That’s the task that he’s given.
Not a terribly hard concept to understand, really, when your job is an assassin on the side. Kuroo does it for the money, but he also does it for the thrill. His victims are lucky, though, because he’s a merciful, quiet killer. He doesn’t make them suffer, even if his clients request it. He’s not a murderer, he’s just doing his fucking job.
Bucky shakes his
head, grumbles low for just the two of you before sighting through his scope
for the umpteenth time. Away in the middle distance nothing moves. Not a bird. Not a cavy. Not even one of Darwin’s blue grey foxes Tony was so enthused
about. So far a bust. If Xisis was planning on making his final move he was
taking his sweet time about it.
A low hiss of
angry steaming sigh leaks out. Nothing—you’ve both
got nothing–just like the last ten times you’ve checked. Reluctantly Bucky hunkers down, uses the jut of rock
that forms your blind to shelter from the wind. The March air might be warm but the swirl whipping across the poa
grass is strong. Grit flies with
It makes you itch
to clean the barrel of your gun.
the willingness to do what needs to be done
is intrenched inside his soul
with the sounds of guns and the taste of blood
that masks the good man existing when he grins
he bends and he aches but he never breaks
until you walked in all fire and fight
and with held gazes and understanding words
you altered the path of his resistance
you showed him how to fly on burned wings
he taught you how to transform dirt into flowers
and together, you find the strength to believe in a better universe
together, you can change the course of history
Request: “Yeah, and they both have these weird memories about wearing mid 20’s clothes and having conversations that they actually never had before… 🌌 I think that would be nice :3“
(A/N): I apologise for deleting the first part of the request, it‘s basically about their paths crossing once again after meeting each other in their past life. Thank you for submitting, I tried my best x
Tyler and Josh are constantly trying to add new things to their live act, so that the whole audience leaves with the best experience they could offer. On this tour, besides the tuxes, special effects and etc., they‘ve come up with the idea, to bring a fan, at each show, on stage and he or she will have the honour to do the famous handshake, from the ‘Stressed Out‘ video, with Josh.
Of course literally everyone who‘s attending the concert knows that, therefore, just a second after they‘ve finished performing ‘Ride‘ everybody around you in the pit starts to do anything they could to get Tyler‘s attention, even if that meant climbing onto someone else‘s shoulder or scream their lungs out, like they haven‘t been doing that enough during the concert. You on the other hand, take a step back and hide behind the group in front of you, trying to make yourself invisible. Those kind of situations are one of the things that unleashes your anxiety the fastest. Obviously, you‘d love the opportunity to talk to them and touch those manly pair of hand‘s that belong to Joshua Dun, but also risking the possibly to humiliate and embarrass yourself in front of thousands of people and most importantly two of your idols at the same time? Not about that life.
“You! The (Y/H/C) haired girl with the Twenty One Pilots shirt“ a voice rings through the microphone.
Another weird thing about politics is that trump supporters will accuse Obama of being a dictator and liberals of being suppressors of freedom and free speech and they'll wave their guns around claiming they're true Americans who care about freedom
Yet Trump’s Muslim ban was resisted by both the American people AND the American courts AND our previous attorney general, who was forcibly removed.
He forced official government organizations to shut up about climate change even though they are SCIENTISTS with the public’s interest in mind.
All of his lackeys have made it EXPLICIT that they WILL force the executive branch’s power over the Judicial branch.
They’re literally turning our system into a dictatorial system with just these aristocratic incompetent goons in charge of our livelihood.
They’re spreading “alternative facts” also known as LIES and flat out calling the media LIARS.
And sure they’re liars and they’re biased but they’re still not as bad as a man who claimed he had record turn outs to his inauguration when anyone with eyes can see that the women’s march was PACKING the empty mall he left.
I mean Christ.
You wave your gun and call it freedom, but just because the man spewing racist dogma and bringing nazis out of the woods into the cities is your idol doesn’t mean he’s the rest of ours.
We resist trump because we are not like him.
If you can’t see why this is democratic and simply rage about how we should jus “accept” him and shut up and let him do whatever he likes well.
“I see an
extremely beautiful woman walking toward us,” you heard Jensen say as you
walked toward where he and Jared were sitting on set. You had Ryker in your
arms and he smiled as soon as he heard Uncle Jensen’s voice.
sweet,” you smiled at him.
right,” Jared got up and hurried toward you, “How are you feeling?” he asked,
putting his hand on your large belly.
great,” you said, “I’m ready to meet this little girl.”
wait until she gets here.”
over and took Ryker from you, kissing your cheek, “What’s the countdown?” he
weeks,” Jared answered.
really could happen any time. And I’m totally okay with sooner than later,” you