i am just an idea between the tape and the wall

The Minyard-Josten Pros’ Coming Out

Or, That Time Andrew Got Pissed And Posted The Video That Broke The Internet

  • Years down the line, our boys are both pros and Neil is getting annoyed at all the press conferences that get derailed by either the Josten-Minyard rivalry or whether he is or isn’t in a committed relationship as some gossip magazines have been implying
  • he’s not allowed to deal with it, though
    • he’s actually not allowed to say anything to the press that his coach and PR team haven’t approved of
    • he calls it bullshit
    • he only ever antagonized a dangerous yakuza criminal once
    • people really can’t let anything go, in this sport

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sweeter than sugar (m)

Originally posted by life-ruiners

Words: 19,371.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Genre: Sugar daddy au + fluff, smut.

Summary: Jungkook comes to you with a proposition to give you money in return for your company and all you know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before.

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Two Against One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Sarah Rogers

Waring: Fluff

A/N:  Here is my continue of Dad!Saturday, I’m working through the rest of the requests I got for these. This was an Anon request. Hope you enjoy.

Prompt: “Where did your diaper go?!”

While Y/N is away on under cover Steve struggles with a wild Sarah who has hit a new stage in her development, and Steve has no idea how to put it to an end.

The team is gathered in the meeting room as they watch Steve jog down the hallway with a shrieking Sarah in his arms, yelling hello at everyone they pass. Steve sets her down with another agent before heading into the meeting room.

“Having some issues Rogers?” Fury smirks watching him as he finally sits down.

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Nothing Sweet About Me

Corey Graves/Reader
2380 words; Smut/Explicit

This is set back when Corey was still wrestling in NXT and was requested by @southerndreamz , thank you!

-

There are cupcakes in catering at the taping tonight, and you don’t know where they came from, but they sure don’t look like the usual blandly adequate backstage fare. And you probably don’t need the sugar rush, but you try one anyway, taking a tentative bite and oh god, because yeah, these are definitely not your typical catering dessert. They’re white chocolate with vanilla frosting, so rich and buttery that it melts on your tongue. You glance around, and no one’s looking, so you take the one you’ve just tasted and then another, just because, and head off.

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Deep Heart (5/5)

Sanders Sides: Virgil, Patton, Roman, Thomas, Logan
Blurb: When Logan leaves the others in Patton’s room, Virgil takes matters into his own hands and ends up revealing a secret Patton wanted to keep hidden. (takes place at the end of Moving On ½) 
Fic Type:
Hurt/Comfort, Drama
Inspiration: Inspiration for this story came from This Set of Tumblr posts by @fandomsandanythingelse @sidewritings @darude-sanderstorm 
Warnings: None
Tag List: 
@loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @not-so-innocent-bi-sander  @redundant-statements-for-400 @aikogumi @emo-space-trash @icecoldparadise @novagalaxy4real  @little-lunatica @cinquefoilelove @loganssideblog @hghrules @nyxwordsmith @thebaagelboy @midnightcandy  @satisfied-sanders-sides @helloisthisusernametaken @zaisling @kai-dot-jpg @heyyyimgayyy @pupylvr4905 @killerfangirl3 @countessmissyshort @bubblycricket @otpislife2002 @botanycrewmember @thestoryoferissur @poisonlyra @sanspie122 @softvirgil @lizziepopanime

To Catch Up: (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)

Virgil shook his head, letting his bangs fall back in front of his eyes as his vision cleared. Gah. He shuddered, closing his eyes to hide from the bright light that assaulted his senses. He hated that method of traveling.

Logan shivered in his arms. “C-c-color.” He mumbled, reaching up with a blue-tinged hand to cover his own eyes, rubbing them.

Virgil gave Logan a light squeeze of agreement, swallowing the acid climbing his throat. He would have preferred them to have synced out instead of using that kaleidoscopic nightmare of a transition.

But Patton always did like his use of color, and the fact that he used it now to take them out of his room was a good sign. That didn’t mean the sudden change from darkness to light was helping Virgil’s heightened senses at all though.

He squinted in the light, frowning. Well, it definitely wasn’t Patton’s room he could feel that much, but this place had the wrong atmosphere to be Thomas’s living room. It felt safe at least. That much he could tell. He drew a steadying breath, relaxing his hold on Logan as his eyes adjusted. In fact, it looked more like–

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billboard.com
Darren Criss & Brother Chuck Talk New, 'Unapologetically Fun' Alt-Pop Project, Computer Games

Darren Criss was always destined to make a career out of music. He studied the violin from age 5 well into his teenage years, picking up other instruments along the way, while also pursuing a love for musical theater. But he credits his own musical endeavors to the environment in which he grew up – particularly his older brother, Chuck, who brought other musical interests to the table especially when they were in high school.

“Music has always been the backbone of our relationship and our household,” Darren tells Billboard. “We both had a voracious appetite for music, but I think high school is when we started playing together and being to communicate on a level that changed everything. I think the kind of music we played is probably loud garage rock, because we were just playing in the basement.”

Once they graduated, though, the Criss brothers decided to take their own paths. Darren independently released a solo EP, Human, in July 2010, just months before debuting in his breakthrough role as dreamy choir head Blaine Anderson on Fox’s hit musical dramedy Glee, while Chuck found a home in New York City and became a founding member of indie-rock fivesome Freelance Whales.

With Glee seeing its end in 2015 and Freelance Whales’ most recent album hailing from 2012, both Criss brothers were itching to do something new musically – so they thought, why not relive the days of the brotherly collaborations? And come March 8, 2017, behold, the Criss alt-pop project Computer Games.

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Single Bed

HELLO! 6 more days until this semester is OVER. Honestly it will be a miracle if I survive. But now that it’s finals week I have some more time to write and I AM PUMPED. I don’t know if you guys really care, but I’m sorry for my absence. I have a long list of new fic ideas so I appreciate you guys staying with me. Tumblr has really saved my butt his semester so thanks for being so kind in your messages and for reading:) I hope you guys like this one. I have a feeling you will! :) Happy Saturday!

Warnings: mission, blood, fluff, language

Summary: You and Bucky have to share a single bed on a mission and it prompts him to say what’s been on his mind for a while.

Originally posted by romanian-plum

“(Y/N), really, I’m fine.”

“I know. But let me just look at it when we get in the room.”

Bucky sighed, but you knew he agreed.

The two of you had been sent out on a mission to gather Intel on a possible hidden HYDRA facility. The minute you stepped foot on the grounds blue weapons were being fired your way and things got a little messy.

You were agile enough to dodge the fire, but Bucky wasn’t so lucky. It doesn’t look too bad, you thought looking at the spot of dried blood on his cheek. He was lucky the bullet only grazed him.

But you thought this was unusual. All the time you had known him, Bucky was a light-footed fighter, always missing trouble by a hair.

You tried to play the scene in your head. You were hidden behind a wall loading your gun, and Bucky covered you across the way, sheltered by a tank. The two of you always fought and defended each other in perfect sync. Did you not cover him when he needed you?

You stared at the floor and thought harder to remember some details. You remember Bucky running over to have your back when some HYDRA agents closed off your right side. He do-si-doed around you and pushed you behind the tank. The next time you looked over at him, he had a stream of blood running down his cheek to his jaw.

The ding of the elevator pulled you out of your thoughts. Fishing the room key out of your pocket, you walked over to your room. Bucky followed silently behind.

All you could think about was a shower and your head hitting a fluffy white pillow as you barged through the door and threw your bag down on the couch.

“Man, I don’t know about you but I am exhaust- what?”

You looked up to see a thousand yard stare on Bucky’s face. You followed his eyes to the bed. A single bed.

“Oh. Um…”

“I’ll take the couch” he said without hesitation.

You felt awful. If he was half as tired as you that big soft bed was calling to him too.

“No, Buck, it’s okay.”

“(Y/N), really, I don’t mind-”

“Bucky, you are not sleeping on the couch. This bed is huge. The whole team could fit in it with room to spare.”

“I think that’s a bit of a stretch” he softly chuckled. 

“Point is, we can share the bed” you laughed, your hands outstretched.

He picked up his bag and set it on a chair, opening it and pulling out a small first aid kit. “Okay, but if you change your mind-”

“I won’t.” You interrupted with a smirk. 

You sighed, feeling your limbs get heavier by the second. “Just lemme change and then I’ll check this out” you said, PJs in one hand, the other brushing his jaw as you made your way to the bathroom.

You could still feel his stubble on the tips of your fingers as you quickly changed into your soft light blue t-shirt and your long pajama pants. 

You tried to ignore how nice your clean clothes felt on your skin and how the plush carpet felt between your toes. It was only making you more sleepy.

Bucky was going through the elements of the first aid kit, pulling out a bandage, cleaning supplies, and medical tape as you ran a brush through your hair, pulling it out of its pony tail.

You sat on the bed with a plop and tucked your feet under you, opening the package holding the cleaning supplies. You looked up to see Bucky looking at you tentatively and you patted the bed next to you, signaling him to sit down.

He sat down neatly on the edge of the bed an arm’s length away from you. You could only shake your head as you scooched closer.

You two had been working together closely for the past couple months, but he still treated you like glass. He was never too close, but never too far in case you ever needed him. It was sweet. And a nice trait in a fellow agent. But you wished he could just relax a bit.

You held his chin with one hand and with the other, pressed the cleaning solution to the deep cut. You expected him to flinch at the pain the alcohol caused, but he didn’t move a muscle. I guess he’s been through worse pain than this you thought.

“In all my time here, I’ve never seen you injured, Buck. What happened out there today?” you said, your voice low and filled with concentration as your fingers worked delicately to clean and tape the gash.

“Don’t know. Just… got distracted, I guess.” He mumbled so softly you could hardly make it out.

You weren’t satisfied with that answer but you didn’t push him. Still, he was one of the most trained agents on the team. What could have thrown him off?

You proceeded to wonder as you placed medical tape on his cheekbone, so his skin could heal over night. You absent mindedly smoothed the tape and ran your fingers down his face, it was rough under your fingers.

You looked up to see his blue eyes taking you in. 

“What?” You asked.

“Your hair is long.” His eyes didn’t move from yours.

“Yeah, it needs a cut,” you said nonchalantly as you packed up the first aid kit.

“No, I like it.” 

You froze and tried to ignore the flush you felt in your cheeks. There’s no doubt he noticed your red chest with the v neck of your t-shirt.

But you couldn’t help it. The relationship you and Bucky had was very professional. You had always tried to make it more familiar, more friendly, but he always stuck to his guns. This was the first time he talked to you about anything more than a mission. And he complimented you.

You quickly continued to pack up the first aid kit, trying to keep your stupid grin at bay. You spun around and placed it on the counter, too busy with your own thoughts to notice the presence behind you.It’s nothing. I should just go to bed, you thought. 

You turned around and ended up face to face with Bucky’s muscular chest. It never really registered with you how… large he was until he was there in front of you. He towered over you and his biceps were bigger than your head. He could crush you like a twig. All he had to hear was ten words and he would kill you without a second thought. You should be scared.

But you weren’t. You had never felt so safe in your life. His incredible blue eyes pulled you into him and made you want to crawl under his skin just so you could be closer to him. His sad eyes told you his story, told you his pain, his desire to redeem himself. They told you he would never hurt you and he would do anything in his power to protect you.

And that’s when you saw the tape in his hands. You forgot to put it back into the kit. Dipshit you thought to yourself. He looked at you like that because you were partners. That’s all. You worked together, you were a team.

You shook the thoughts out of your head and swallowed down the warmth rising inside you, ducked away and walked toward the bed. 

“Well, I am tuckered out. I’m gonna just…” You pointed to the bed and started to crawl in, cringing at your awkwardness.  

“Um, yeah. Okay” you heard him say as you curled into a ball of despair, promising yourself you wouldn’t be this weird in the morning. 

One compliment and this is what happens to you. The man just got out of a freezer. You need to pull yourself together. 

You felt the bed dip as he laid down next to you. You took a deep breath and let your exhaustion take over. You fell asleep in minutes.

**

Bucky, however, did not. Why couldn’t you do it, you jerk? He asked himself over and over again.

He laid there on his back thinking about what a coward he was. He had felt it for weeks now. The warmth you brought him. The way his lips curled into a smile when he said your name. 

This mission was when he planned to tell you. He had plenty of chances to say it today, but he let the entire day go by with it hanging on his lips.

In your sleep you turned to face him. You looked so peaceful. He would do anything to keep it that way, he would gladly put his life on the line if it meant you would be safe.

Hell, that’s exactly what he did. Because he knows he wouldn’t survive without you.

He brushed the stray hair out of your face as softly as he could so he wouldn’t wake you. He simply watched you breathe in and out, studying your every feature.

If anything ever happened to him, if HYDRA ever took him away from you he could rebuild you in his mind. His dreams about you would be more real because he knew the pink shade of your lips and exactly how they curved under your always rosy cheeks. He would be okay.

Finally what he wanted to say for the past few weeks bubbled up in his chest and fell off his lips.

“I love you.”

**

It took every single ounce of will power not to let your eyelids rip open. 

But he thought you were sleeping, he obviously wasn’t ready for you to know. You didn’t want to screw things up with your mission partner so you kept your eyes shut.

You wanted to respect your friend so you pretended to sleep.

For what felt like hours you laid there thinking about what the man next to you just said. What it meant. Everything seemed to fall into place.

Why he trusted you. Why he talked to you the way he talked to Steve and no one else. Why fireworks erupted inside you the first time he smiled at something you said. Why his soft chuckle shook you to your core. 

Why he pushed you behind the tank today.

You finally peeked at the clock. 4am. You looked back over at Bucky. You were sure he was asleep.

So you whispered hardly loud enough to make a sound “I love you too.”

Part 2

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TAG LIST (IT’S OPEN!)

@usannika @whatsbetterthanfantasy @dontstopwiththelyin @the-renaissance @anitavalija @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @annieluc @hip5t3r-m3rmaaidd-biitchhh @blueswallow5 @heismyhunter @waikimikey @aenna-4 @kennadance14

dylanlovesthemets  asked:

“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” this is 3000000% something danny says to steve

@dylanlovesthemets this was so McDanno omg it was perfect :D Hope you like it! 

Steve blinks himself awake, a little fuzzy, but after a quick shake of his head it all comes rushing back to him. He and the team had been out for drinks, which is typical after they successfully close a case. Chin had begged off first, going home to Malia before it got too late. Kono had left second after making eyes at the waitress for most of the evening. Which had left Danny and Steve to their conversation. They were more than a few beers in and Steve had said something that made Danny laugh.

Steve had been more than a little distracted by the twinkle in Danny’s eyes, the way he looked with his head thrown back laughing.  He should have noticed they were being watched. When they’d gotten up to leave it was raining, and they’d argued. Steve didn’t care about running to the car because they could change when they got home. Danny didn’t want to get the seats wet.

The men had come out of nowhere. One moment he was getting Danny all riled up and the next he’d been hit upside the head and everything went black.

So he’s not completely surprised that he’s waking up on a cold floor. He’s not even alarmed by the fact that his eyelashes on his right eye are sticky with blood.

What is concerning is the unmoving body of his partner across the room. Steve takes stock of himself quickly. No shoes, pockets emptied, aching head and a sore neck. He can feel no other injuries but that hardly matters right now. 

Because he’s in a barred cell, with nothing to pick the lock and his partner is unconscious and bleeding 10 feet away from him.

Steve can see a red stain on Danny’s side, and it’s slowly growing the longer Steve watches. Ignoring his headache, he yells towards the open door, where he can see their captors sitting and watching TV.

“Danny! Danny!” he tries, hoping to rouse his partner but when it doesn’t work the panic starts to overtake him. “Hey! Hey! Someone needs to check on my partner. None of you want to be a cop killer! Get in here and make sure he’s still breathing!”

He shouts and shouts hoping to annoy one of them to come into the room and at least roll Danny over so Steve can see that he’s breathing. But instead the guy just slams the door shut between them. And Steve is pretty close to losing it. He’s never truly been confronted with his partner dying. Not since the sarin poisoning last year. But he’s pretty sure Danny is dead on the floor over there and there’s nothing he can do about.

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Barbie (Chapter 6)

Chris Pine X Reader.

Summary:  What started as a simple date ended as a failed romance. Or has it truly failed?

Warnings: Cursing. naughty moments. 


Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.  Chapter 7.  Chapter 8. 


You’d been home less than an hour and your apartment didn’t even look the tiniest bit clean or fixed. On top of the window that was now shattered and the hole in the wall, you had to pay a fortune to the landlord to repair them. You room was another story, clothes tossed out of the drawers, items thrown everywhere and not a single clue as to what this robber was searching for or even took. Other than a trail of messes, nothing looked gone. 

Your emotions where still on high from the night before. What made it even worse was when you walked into the kitchen and there was the rag you used on Chris’ forehead resting in the sink. Just when you went to reach for it to discard, a knock on your door scared the daylights out of you. 

A sharp intake of breath as you turned, your hand on your heart as you headed to the door. It was a teenager with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a clipboard in his other. “Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked looking around your apartment in confusion. 

“Yeah.” You said walking towards him. “Who are these from?” 

He looks at the clipboard, “Doesn’t say.” 

He hands you clipboard to sign and then the large overpriced bouquet of deep red roses. You gave the teen a small tip and closed the door gently.  There was a small card on the roses that read nothing more than, “I’m sorry” and in the trash can they went. Another act of apologies from Chris was the last thing you needed, he didn’t even have the respect to leave them at the office again. Now you were angry cleaning, throwing things in every direction; angrily shouting that Chris was overstepping his boundaries. 

“He thinks he can apologize and then send me flowers and still be on my good side. He’s got another thing coming.” You shouted as you lift you bookshelf up, pushing it back up against the wall again. The rest of the morning was spent cursing Chris’ name and the robbers name not only had he destroyed your apartment that created a bill but he’d also broken the small frog shaped jewelry box–which couldn’t fit a single thing but you’d had it since you were a child meaning it had a place in your heart plus you’d cut your hand when you taped the window up–which technically wasn’t his fault but you were blaming him anyway . 

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We Bring the Boys Out! (Ch.1)

Pairing: BTS x OC & GOT7 x OC (not right away but eventual/hinted)
Genre: COLLEGE AU, ROOMMATE AU, Romance, Fluff, Comedy, Angst, & SMUT
Words: 2,385
Song(s) That Inspired Me: N/A (wrote this earlier in the year and I don’t remember what I listened to for this chapter lol)
POV: 3rd Person

Summary: After a mysterious fire destroyed their fraternity house, the boys of BTS & GOT7 were given the option to either relocate to the dorms or move in with their “sisters”. Obviously….they chose to move in with 11 different ladies. What could possibly go wrong? Except for, you know, the occasional hook-ups, arguments, secret meetings, and other interesting things. Should be fun, right? 

Next time: ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6 | ch.7 | ch.8 | ch.9 | ch. 10 | ch.11 | ch.12 | ch.13 | ch.14 | final chapter

Filler Episodes: special ch.1 | special ch.2 | special ch.3 | special ch.4 | special ch.4.5 | special ch.5 | special ch.5.5 | special ch.6 | special ch.6.5 | special ch.7 | special ch.8 | special drabble

❖ B.O.Y (Because of You) (Season 2)


Chapter 1: Meet Your Roomie!

The start of the new semester should be one to remember, right? Unfortunately, it is memorable all right but for all the wrong reasons. It was the week of Greek rush where all sororities and fraternities set up a table in the middle of the quad and try to recruit new members. Once every fraternity and sorority managed to recruit enough people to keep their charter up and running, each group retired to their respective Greek house for the day and went over possible pledges that they wanted. Now, this is where it gets interesting. One specific fraternity did not have a house to go back to. Apparently, someone accidentally plugged in something into the faulty wall plug that was supposed to be taped over, warning any newcomers that that specific plug was off limits. Someone did not get the memo.

           “What do you mean we have to move in with our “sisters”?!” a boy with raven hair shouted as his friend tried to console him.

The faculty member, that is tasked with watching over them, sighed as he tried to think of a way to convince these fourteen gentlemen to move in with ten girls.

           “It was either move in with your “sisters” or be relocated into the dorms. Either way, you guys have to live somewhere while the school rebuilds your fraternity house.” The faculty member firmly explained, questioning to himself why he took over this job. These boys were stubborn, energetic, and very outspoken.

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00Q Fic Rec Masterlist

Updated: 31st Jan 2016

I thought that I should be making one of these since I really enjoyed the 00Q pairing.

Note: the ratings used in this list are based on the ones from Ao3. Summaries are also from the author on Ao3. Also all of them are COMPLETE because I understand how annoying it is when you fall in love with a fic and it is just abandoned. 

Bittersweet 

The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense.
The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation.
The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something.
The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.

Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.

And then, it became something else.

if I couldn’t be strong

But this? There was no excusing this as anything other than what it was. Pathetic longing, and a need to be close to Bond to comfort himself. Q couldn’t even pretend that he was visiting Bond to keep the man company. No, this was about Q and the fact that the majority of his nightmares lately had featured an empty hospital bed and another trip to the local cemetery.

“You need to wake up, you sodding prick,” he said to Bond, not bothering to lower his voice. The only other sound in the room was the beep of the heart monitor. “I can destroy these people very easily, but I don’t want to hear you whining about having missed out on the action later on.”

Blue-Eyed Monster

Yes, this version of 007 was a terrifyingly smart agent, and M wondered long and often whether it had been a good idea to promote him to the position. Usually, the title was the dangerous part - being 007 meant deadliness - but this time, M feared that a certain man with ice-blue eyes and scruffy blonde hair had dragged in more danger to the title than it had previously possessed

Enter MI6’s new Quartermaster: an unassuming, bespectacled genius with no mind for subterfuge but plenty of genius behind a dry smile. Curious 00-agents and young boffins don’t always mix in predictable ways…

A Mountain That Has Been Moved

There is something strangely threatening about the realization that he finds James Bond attractive. 

So If You Give

Bond gives Q things because of reasons. Q thinks that Bond completely misses the point.

it was dark when i found you

Bond stares at him. There are two men tied up against the wall and four more lying on the floor, bleeding and hogtied with duct tape.

“I ran out of rope after the first two,” Q admits.

The World We View

“If you were a woman he would want you.”

He hopes that, if he were a woman, he might have better taste.

The Courtship of Mr. Bond

In which Bond is a retired naval commander with too much house, Q is a mechanical engineer with too many sisters, and they have lengthy conversations about decorum, bonnet-ribbons and philosophy in Regency England.

~

“I just thought you might go pay a visit,“ his mother suggested.

“Me?” Q asked, aghast. “Pay a visit?”

“He must be starved for proper gentleman company, now that he’s settled in so far from London–”

“I am far from proper gentleman company.”

“–and perhaps if you befriended him he could introduce you to some nice heiresses.”

“Heiresses?” Q repeated, baffled and horrified. “What in the world would I do with heiresses?”

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

What followed was the most bizarre courtship Q had ever—well, heard of, certainly. He didn’t have much to compare it to, but Moneypenny confirmed that normal people didn’t flirt like this. Not that he was normal. Not that any of them were.

Or: Q has a past, a cat, and a dangerous new boyfriend. Two of these things keep him up nights, the other pees in a box.

Fidelity

In which Bond develops a preference for sleeping on Q’s couch rather than in his own bed, and Q is rather more warm-hearted than M when it comes to throwing him out.

Wheelhouse

The one where Bond really, really isn’t used to sleeping with people who don’t tragically die soon afterward.

Ordinary Numbers

More than anything, Mike Taylor wanted to be ordinary. Being a genius, he learned early in life, meant people expected too much. A career at the MI6 Help Desk seemed the perfect way to guarantee a lifetime of obscurity, until he got a very unusual tech support call.

Synchronicity

It goes on like that for months, and then Q realizes that James Bond is "hanging out” at his flat.

The Love Song of James Bond

“Knowing your history, and adding to it the fact that I am not entirely unaffected by sharing a bed with you, I think it would be pointless to pretend that we are going to able to share this house for the next two weeks without fucking over every available surface.” Q smiles at the look of shock on James’ face. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting such a direct approach and Q presses on before he has a chance to recover. “However, when it happens it will happen on my terms.”

There was definitely a significant gap between the time Bond was breaking down over M’s death in the chapel to the time a confident Bond walked into Mallory’s office to accept his newest assignment. What, or more importantly, who, put him back together again? Basically, lots of porn with plot.


Updated: 31st Jan 2016

The One Who Made Him Stay

Twenty-one days after the Double-oh programme is reinstated, James Bond returns to MI6 with his Aston Martin and without Dr Swann. This is only the beginning of Q’s problems.

A Spectre Fix-It. COMPLETE.

I just simply love this one, very well-written, Q and Bond are very in character. The relationship progresses naturally and some of my favourite tropes are in there. <3 this 


Essays in Existentialism: Shower Scene

Clexa AU where both Clarke and Lexa are actresses and get cast in the same movie/tv-show and one of the first scenes they have to shoot together is a shower or sex scene or generally something really intimate.

“I’m sorry, that’s my… that’s embarrassing,” Lexa swallowed and looked down at her stomach. “I was too nervous to have lunch, and running too late to have breakfast.”

“We’ll have to get you fed,” Clarke smiled determinedly. It was cocky and confident and Lexa understood her to be like this. “Excuse me, my love interest is dying. Her stomach is eating itself. Can we have a snack? Nothing too gross tasting.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa smiled and blushed as the commotion continued around them, ignoring Clarke’s request completely. “I’ll pull through somehow.”

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Soulmate AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader (Supernatural)

Prompt: Soulmate AU where you get a book at birth in which each page is a day and each chapter is a year. Each day, you get some information about their day, some things they said, some things they felt, some activities. Also, the last thing in the book will be the first words they said to you. 

Requested?: Yes, by me. 

Word count: 4,500 (Damn, that’s long)

(A/N):  this is not my idea. Normally I write down from who I stole it, but I forgot. So if you know who made this idea, let me know! & I am obsessed with Supernatural and I love Dean! SO, that’s why! Heehee;)

Originally posted by zest-wincest


Dean Winchester had always loved reading his book. The book about his soulmate, the only connection between them. At young age, he was confused as why her parents were so strict. She needed to run, and swim and at age seven, his soulmate got a knife for her birthday. But what was weird was that she didn’t seem to mind. Dean soon understood she was a hunter, just like he was becoming. That didn’t scare him. He knew she, as his soulmate, would be able to handle herself. 


When Dean got older, he loved reading about her even more. She was really smart and good, she worked mostly alone and loved llama’s, which he thought was pretty amusing. He liked how she always was pretty happy, no matter what her injuries or the job was. The book said her smile was one to die for. He liked how she could flirt with boys, just for information. He liked how she was funny and drank tea with alcohol and drank tequila after each job. He fell in love with her, slowly and not because of her looks. He didn’t know how she would look. He hoped she was pretty. 


Dean and Sam were at a motel, there was a job close by, but they wouldn’t make it there until tomorrow. Sam was in the shower, so Dean had a little bit time for him alone. Out of his bag, he took the already large book. Each chapter represented a year, and he was glad the book was so big, meaning she was still alive. The last few days, he hadn’t been able to read the book because of his research and the job. He had to catch up on a few days. 


Walking around, driving in a car. 

“I like chicken nuggets, but tart is better.” 

She winked at the guy, whose mouth hung open. He wasn’t used to girl that pretty hitting on him.

Her eyes  were tired, but this night would be sleepless, she would have to do research if she wanted to finish the job tomorrow. 


Dean grinned, this was how he knew her, totally random, yet very determent. She liked to get a move on things. 


Her boots were tight, she had checked that tree times already. Her dark shirt and pants were tight and easy to fight in. She took her bag and jumped in the jeep. The house was quiet, but she knew that the ghost of Julie could show up at any moment. Pain took over as something hit her in the back of her head. With a groan, she turned around, shotgun ready. She missed. She really needed to find that stupid box. 


After what seemed like hours of reading, Dean relaxed. She was safe, mildly hurt but safe. That was the one thing he always hoped. That she would be alive, breathing and mentally healthy. He knew how it was to lose someone you care about, and he couldn’t lose her, not before they had met. Dean wasn’t really afraid she would die on a job, she had proven how good she was plenty of times. 

“Reading about your soulmate?” Sam spoke and Dean looked up, Sams tone was slightly teasingly. 

“So what? Everyone does.” Dean stated, calm, unamused. He saw Sam grin slightly.


Y/n didn’t like reading about her soulmate. She had read too much over the pain he had been through. She had read about his mothers death, and her parents had explained her everything. They didn’t know what had killed her, but it was something supernatural. She had read about how his father wasn’t really a good father. She had read about him being hungry a lot because he gave his little brother more food. That broke her heart. She wasn’t one to pity, and she told herself she didn’t pity him, but she wished he had had a better childhood, at least. 


She walked out of the warm shower, her hair falling damp over her shoulders when she sat on her bed. Y/n really wanted to read her book, she always hoped she would read he was happy that day, even when he was happy for weeks, she would still hope he was happy. She hesitated. She always did. Swallowing hard, she took the book from the nightstand. The book felt heavy on her lap. 


He and his brother sneaked into the dark building, under the police tape to the house. His brother was first. The remains of the ghost where in the house, they only needed to find it before the ghost found them. They started from the basement, they had no clue where the body could be. He screamed, yelled for his brother to duck before firing. The ghost vanished, but they knew he would come back. He said that his brother needed to search upstairs, they didn’t have much time. He went downstairs, stairs made a lot of noise. His flashlight gave him some light. He opened doors, cabins, closets. But he noticed the newer wall. The bricks still had color. he yelled for his brother, not wanting him to be in more danger then needed. His brother stumbled it, gun ready. Together they broke down the wall, and an old corpse rolled out. Salt and burn. This job was done. 


Y/n wanted more information, she always wanted more. But she knew that she wouldn’t. She hoped they would meet soon. Y/n didn’t want to go to sleep, even though she was tired. So, longing for her soulmate, she read her favorite parts again. The parts where he was happy, where he had a reason to smile. That always made her heart warm. 


Dean and Sam Winchester sat in a diner, talking about the job. 

“So, you think it is a vengeful spirit?” Sam asked Dean, leaning in over the table. 

“Yes, I think it is. I mean, people disappearing near a forest? I checked it, and each year, in one week, this week, every night at least one person disappears. And that for seven days.” Dean took a sip out his cup. 

“Okay, this is a job. But where do we start?” Dean wanted to answer that question, but then something caught his eye. No, a someone. A young woman walked past. Her hair fell over shoulders, decoration her leather jacket. She had a very tight pair of jeans on, and high heels. Dean didn’t notice she stood slightly unstable on the shoes. When she stopped by a table, Dean saw her red lips, flirty smile and low cut tank top. The man she talked to asked her to sit, and Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Even though there was obvious flirting, she didn’t seen interested. He wondered why she sat by him. 

“Dean,” Sam started. “are you even listening?” Dean teared his eyes away from the beautiful woman. 

“Yes, of course I was.” 

—-

Only a few hours had passed, Dean would talk to a few people, and Sam, Sam would do some more research. Dean chose a house which was very close to the forest. It if was a spirit, then maybe they would know. He knocked on the door and was surprised when he saw the man the beautiful woman had flirted with. 

“Hello, I’m from the police. I wanted to ask you a few questions about last night disappearance.” Dean smiled and the man, a slight hint of envy in his eyes. 

“Come in.” He said and stepped aside. Inside the house it was cold, most things were dark and there were no flowers. he wouldn’t be surprised if he smelled death. 

Once Dean sat, he started to ask questions. until he couldn’t help it anymore. 

“So, you home alone? I mean if your girlfriend is here I would like to ask her a few questions.” Dean asked casually. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” the man almost snapped. 

“Easy there, I just thought you had because you are so gentle.” Dean gave the man a sarcastic smile, he had everything he needed. 

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Killer Cook

A/N: Okay so this fic came about because after Michael’s infamous grilling apron pic was posted on Instagram, I wanted to take the “G for Grilling” slot for my “ABC’s of Merle” challenge on @rooker-renegades and write a smut fic about it. So yeah, thanks Michael for your hideously hilarious apron giving me inspiration this time around.

Word count: 3,008

Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus, kinda sorta sub!Merle, secondhand embarrassment, craft projects from hell.

It had been so long since you were able to enjoy a cold glass of anything on a beautiful summer day like this. You were sitting on the porch steps of the house you, Merle, and Daryl stayed in at Alexandria, sipping your sweet tea while watching people wander around. Yesterday, the scavenging group had brought back a ton of food they found squirreled away in an abandoned bunker.

There really wasn’t supposed to be a party over it or anything, but Merle and Daryl talked Rick into letting them go out and catch some game and throw an old fashioned barbecue. It was of course a great idea, so here you were, watching everyone run around and enjoy themselves as they waited for dinner to be finished.

As you took another sip of your tea, you watched as Daryl turned the corner and made his way over to you, a small smirk on his face. When he was closer, you raised your eyebrow at him, waiting for him to tell you what he found so funny. “Ya gotta take a look at yer boyfriend,” Daryl said with a look of amusement.

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Scary Movies

Felicity finds herself unable to sleep after watching a scary movie with Roy. Set in Season 3.

This my entry for this week’s Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-Thon prompt Sleepless.

I had three different conversations in the past week about my fear of scary movies so when I saw the prompt was sleepless, I couldn’t help myself. I also couldn’t sleep after watching The Ring.

No beta for this one. All mistakes are mine. Also available on AO3.



“But this movie isn’t scary, Felicity, it’s more of a psychological thriller. You will be fine.” Roy smiled a Felicity.


“Roy, I’ve heard of The Ring, I also heard the original Japanese version is much better. Put it on and if I find it too scary, I’ll just stop watching.”


Felicity and Roy had begun hanging out lately. After Sara’s death, she just wanted to appreciate her time with her friends a bit more. So, they created movie night, this was Roy’s night to pick the movie.

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Don’t Even Bother Denying It [ P.P ]

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Hi! This one here is a request for anon and I tried my best to write what you wanted so here you go!

Request: Could you please do an imagine where the reader gets saved by Spider-Man (not knowing it’s Peter her best friend) and kisses him by lifting his mask. Then the next day Spider-Man shows up in her bedroom and Peter reveals he’s Spider-Man, and more fluffy kisses ❤️️❤️️

I kind of messed up sticking to the description and I apologize dearly for that! I lost track of what I was writing I am so sorry!

Once again, I apologize that it isn’t exactly what you wanted. If you’d like I could write it up again for you!

Word Count: 1243

Warnings: Violence (?) and flufffff!

“Goodnight, Mads!” You yell, smiling slightly at the old lady as you walk through the doors of the diner you’ve been working at for almost six months. It was a cute little place; brightly colored and always a great place to spend time with friend. Madison’s Diner may have been an ideal place to go on a Friday night with family if it weren’t for it’s poor location.

The diner is smack bang in the middle of the worst part of the city, with drug lords and criminals littering almost every nook and cranny of the streets. You had talked to Mads - the kind old woman who owns the diner, about this but she had just waved a hand at you saying that nothing would ever happen to someone her age and that if you ever found yourself in trouble to just use the can of pepper spray that she had supplied me with. You both know that it’s necessary for a girl of your age to carry around a can of pepper spray.

The job was nothing serious. It was mostly an emotional attachment that you had to the kindly lady who owns the diner rather than the money that you earn. You still live with your family seeing as you aren’t of the legal age to move out–not that you necessarily wanted to just yet. If you were being completely honest, you didn’t even know what salary you got.

You pull your dark jacket tight around your body, shivering due to the breeze that passes through the street as you start your journey home. On any other day you’d be leaving from work at an earlier time and in a car, but that wasn’t an option for you tonight. You sigh, glancing down at the time on you phone. 2:30 am. It’s not smart of you to walk back to your apartment so late at night, but what other choice do you have?

Every little noise or movement makes you jump, speeding up your pace as you round a corner. It doesn’t really help that the dark terrifies you as it is and you’ve never actually had to walk home this late.

You quickly glance behind you, surprising yourself as you catch sight of a man walking suspiciously behind you. You avoid looking at the man, your eyes trained on the dark gravel beneath your feet. You wince as your shoulder hits a pole, stopping in your tracks involuntarily to inspect the forming bruise on your arm. The thought of the man flees to the back of your mind for only a matter of seconds.

A violent hand on your shoulder yanks you away from the footpath and throws you against a brick wall to the side of the pavement. The contact with the building sends shock-waves through your spine causing you to shiver in slight pain. The man’s breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes, his dirty lips pulled back into a snarl.

“You’re a pretty one, eh?”

You struggle against his grip, not a single word falling from your lips. His eyes fall to your fallen bag, his hold on you not faltering even the slightest. The man opens his mouth to speak.

“Th–”

Before he can finish his sentence, the man is yanked right off of you. He falls to the ground in front of you, wiping at his bottom lip. Your eyes move to the figure towering above him. Spider-Man.

“Has no one ever taught you any moral rules?” Spider-Man spits. It was a foreign sound coming from him; more serious than what the people of Queens usually hear from the webslinger.

Spider-Man looks to you, holding out a hand to pull you away from the wall. You stand behind him once you’ve picked up your bag.

The man lets out a frustrated yell as Spider-Man shoots out his webs, taping him to the wall that you were standing against moments ago.

Spider-Man places his arm tightly around your waist, pulling you a safe distance away from where you were attacked. His shaky hands find their way to your shoulders. You wondered why he seemed so scared–so worried.

Neither of you spoke a word, the both of you lost in thought.

About an hour before you had left the diner, your best friend Peter Parker had offered to walk you home. Sure, you didn’t really think Peter would really have been able to do much in a situation like that but it still would have been much safer.

“Thank you.” You breath out, taking your shaking lip in between your teeth.

“It’s no problem, really.” He replies.“It’s what I do.” Your eyebrows furrow; his posture and composition and his voice sounds exactly like–

“Peter?!”

“Yes–wait what?”  Spider-Man stutters, his arms flailing by his sides. You raise an eyebrow at him, sticking your hip out and resting your hand on it.

“I know it’s you, idiot.” You smile. “Don’t even bother denying it.”

Peter sighs, scratching the back of his neck. It was honestly one of the angriest he’s ever been while dealing with muggers on patrol and it was all because it was you who was the victim. Ever since the start of last year, you had stolen Peter’s heart and kept it prisoner in your pocket without even knowing. It was the same vice-versa.

You’d had your suspicions that Peter was the infamous Spider-Man but you had never really thought twice about it. Peter Parker? The thought baffled you. But now? Knowing that he’s Spider-Man has made you even more proud of your favorite boy.

“I got scared, you know.” Peter admits, “I was scared something would happen to you. I mean I knew that I wouldn’t let that happen but I was still so scared.”

“Peter–”

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” He pulls you towards him, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“Of course.”

Peter couldn’t hold it in much longer. He had chickened out and waited long enough. Something about the Spider-Man suit made him ten times more confident than his usual. Even though he had become so comfortable with you over the past few years, this scared him beyond words. Peter was scared that you wouldn’t feel the same–scared that he’d mess up what you already had. But he had no idea you felt the same.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurts, “I have been since last year. When you fell off of my study desk in my bedroom.”

To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement. You stay silent, still taking time to let his words sink in. Even though you already knew your answer, Peter managed to take your silence the wrong way.

“I understand if you don’t–”

You cut him off, stepping into him and pulling his mask up to his nose. Your lips find their way to his, moving against them softly yet still passionately. The both of you could feel the kiss throughout your bodies, your grip on each other tightening.

“I love you too, Peter.” You mumble against his lips.

You feel him smile against you before he pulls away. Peter pulls you in for a tight hug, burying your face in his chest. He pulls his mask back down after leaving you with another few kisses before he shoots his webbing at the roof of a nearby building.

Peter drops you off outside your home, leaving you with one last kiss.

Kind of Like Narnia (Part ¼)

Raphael (2014/2016) x Reader
Notes: Hi! This is my first fic kind of thing, on tumblr that is. I hope you enjoy it! [P/N] is your pet’s name, but you’d probably already know that lol
Warnings: Swearing, that’s about it
Word count: 1304
Disclaimer: I don’t own TMNT, and you belong to you <3


It was a morning like any other. You were sat on your bed, under the covers; scrolling through you social media feeds. Since you’d passed out from watching old episodes of ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ last night, you hadn’t closed your curtains, so the light pouring into your room woke you up. You enjoyed your weekends. No school, no drama, just you and the TV remote.

It would’ve been a great lazy day, if your Mom didn’t clamber through the room with an old fashioned wardrobe following behind her. It looked like something from the 1900’s.

“Mom? What the hell?” you laughed, watching two very large men set the wardrobe down on the floor and then set it upright. The wardrobe was over 7ft, and just about missed the ceiling.

“It was your great grandparents! I have no idea what it’s for but it’s pretty cool right!” she clapped her hands together, giggling before stepping forward and opening the doors.

Moths. Dead moths. Live moths, flew out of the wardrobe and around the room.

“Wow Mom, real treasure you got here.” You said blandly, crossing your arms over your chest. Your mother simply ignored you, pushing the wardrobe to the wall. This gave you a small tingle, but you ignored it and shuffled back over to your bed, laying back down and turning the TV on.


“[P/N]! Get back here!” you yelled, calling your cat back to wherever he had ran off to. You’d bought a cute collar for him to try on, but as per usual he hissed at you and ran off. You had chased him around the house before losing him and walking back to your room.

The door was open. The door of the wardrobe that you hadn’t even touched since your Mom pretty much left it there. Months ago. It was very pretty, but horrible dusty and old on the inside, with your dead great grandparents clothes still hanging in there.

“For fucks sake, [P/N].” you grumbled, picking up the collar and holding your nose. You paid good money for that collar, it was going on him whether he liked it or not.

You gingerly took a step into the closet, being cautious not to close the door, because it would be dumb to shut yourself in a closet. As you went further in, you just assumed this was an enormous closet. It was almost pitch black as you got to the very centre of the wardrobe. The further in you got, the more the air around you started to change, it was damp, and smelt a lot like sewage. Obviously, you had been calling out your cat’s name out, but they hadn’t even appeared, or jumped out and attacked you. You kept your arms stretched out in front of you, so as to not bump into the back of the wardrobe. Taking one, two, three more steps forward, you expected to feel the hardwood on the tips of your fingers – but you didn’t.

In fact, you felt a cold air, but it also felt quite sticky. You took another step forward and felt the edge of the wardrobe at your feet. Taking one more step, calling out [P/N] one more time before tripping and falling on to your knees into dirty water.

You hadn’t realised you had your eyes closed until you slowly opened them, blinking to adjust your eyes to the light.

Feet. No. Green feet? Your eyes slowly widened as you picked your head up, to stare directly at a grinning green face, with an orange bandana wrapped around its head.

“Hey dudette! I’m Michelangelo, the chicks call me Mikey!” he winked, still grinning down at you whilst holding out a three fingered - also green - hand out to you. Your eyes narrowed, wrinkling your nose before taking his hand and lifting yourself up with your other hand.

Your eyes slowly widened at who this person was. One of the 4 turtles, from your favourite franchise. Taking a step away from him, you grinned.

“Hello, I’m [Y/N],” you shook his hand before pulling it away. “Have you seen my cat?”

“Oh! Yeah totally dudette, he’s back at the lair.” You nodded, pretending to not know what he was talking about as you had a small freak out inside your head. “Wait, what’re you even doing in the sewers?”

“I have no idea dude, you tell me,” you chuckled before looking around. “Which way are we going?”

Mikey took you to the lair, mostly talking about pizza the whole way there, not that you minded though. You smiled happily to yourself as you got to the lair, looking around, twirling. ‘Am I tripping?’

As soon as you got there, Mikey insisted you played a game of Mario Kart with him, which you of course agreed to. However, that was soon stopped when you heard Master Splinter’s voice call out from the dojo.

“Michelangelo. Who is this?” his voice was calm, collected, but you could hear a slight tinge of annoyance or anger behind it. Turning around, you grinned slightly before bowing your head in respect.

“Master Splinter!” Mikey’s eyes widened as he looked between you, the large rat and his brother’s who had now gathered around.

“Hi! I’m sorry, I’m [Y/N]. I kind of stumbled her by mistake, actually it wasn’t really a mistake I didn’t even know I was coming and to be quite honest I don’t even know how I got here I was chasing my dumb cat- [P/N]!” your eyes widened at the sight of your feline friend, and his widened too as he ran off in the other direction. “Come back here!” you growled and jumped over a chair and followed the cat, the turtle brothers in hot pursuit.


After finally get your cat to at least mildly respect you, and explaining your situation to the family, you were now sat in Donnie’s lab looking through the tapes of when, and how, you got into the ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ world.

Of course you didn’t tell them you knew who they were, and you had stuffed teddies of them in your bedroom, and posters, and kept the tickets for both of their latest Bay movies. You’d sound like a complete stalker. That’s not an attractive look, especially when your favourite red clad turtle was glaring directly at you. Donnie was typing away on his computer before he stood up abruptly and called the other brothers into the room. You also stood up, feeling quite left out.

“There!” Donnie pointed to the screen where a white light had appeared. You squinted before grabbing the keyboard and zooming in. The inside of the wardrobe was clearly visible, but other than that you couldn’t see anything.

“Why were you in a wardrobe?” Raphael’s rough voice grumbled from the side of you. He was staring at you. You could feel your face turn a bright shade of red before you handed Donnie his keyboard back. You looked up at him, narrowing your own eyes before looking back towards the screen so he couldn’t see how red your face was.

“Trying…[P/N]…” You mumbled, shuffling your feet around. Raphael rolled his eyes and walked off. Inside you felt quite disheartened. You knew him, sort of. You liked him, he was your favourite character. But he didn’t even acknowledge you. Nice.

“Cool! So, like Narnia?” Mikey grinned, whilst chewing on what looked like a pizza sandwich.

“Yes Mikey, kind of like Narnia…”

DAY #6 [vday challenge]

Prompt: “I love you.”
A/N: This is for the lovely @prettyxlittlexwriter, who won’t stop encouraging me xD (She’s amazing)
Feedback is welcome!


Sherlock edged forward, moving cautiously and noiselessly. Hoisting the gun up, he shifted to the next wall and sat to a crouch behind it. He waited with bated breath, listening carefully for any sort of movement. He strained his ears, squinting into the darkness; only a few lights illuminated the area dullly.

Just then he thought, no- he was sure, he heard a shuffle of feet to his right.

His lips curled into a smirk.

Tiptoeing stealthily, he moved towards the source of the noise.

He made out her silhouette, dark against the faint glow that the neon tapes on the floor cast around her.

She was propped against the wall, her back facing him. He crept up behind her and put the gun against the back of her head.

Her breath hitched at this and she immediately threw her hands up in the air.

“You got me,” she whispered.

Sherlock let out a chuckle and she smiled.
The deep, low, rumble of his laughter always warmed her insides- it was so pure, so natural and so rare.

Sherlock spun (y/n) around, catching her in his arms and pulling her close.
He leaned in to kiss her nose but she pulled away, the darkness shadowing some of her features.

“Hey, we’re still in the arena. No PDA, baby,” (y/n) murmured, trying to slip out of the detective’s grasp.

Sherlock, however, refused to let go and gripped her waist firmly.

In the darkness, she could roughly make out his curls, his sharp cheekbones and those heavenly cupid-bow lips.

Sherlock chuckled again.
“No PDA? We’re shrouded in darkness (y/n), standing in the remotest corner of the arena, by my calculations; with only four other people- two couples, mind you- for company and you’re afraid of-”

Before the detective launched into a debate she knew she’d lose, she decided to cut him off by kissing him.

Her hands went up to his hair and curled around the locks as she pushed him against the wall, kissing him passionately. This gesture made him moan softly and she smirked against his lips.

“Whose idea was it to play laser tag on Valentine’s Day anyway?” the detective mumbled in between hungry kisses, making her laugh.

When the need of oxygen got too much, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his own.

She always managed to bring out this side of him and he wasn’t afraid to be himself with her.

She pecked at his lips again as a familiar warmth spread across his chest. He tucked a loose curl behind her ear and caressed her soft cheek.

He loved her unfathomably.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, voicing his own thoughts.

They’d never been this close in their eight months of dating nor had he ever felt anything as wonderful as this.
He embraced her, basking in her warmth. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed deeply. She smelled like coconuts and summer- he smiled to himself.
He could hear the thumping of her heart against his own and in that moment he realised he didn’t ever want to be with anyone else but her.

Achluophobia: Saturday

Title: Achluophobia: Saturday, Part 2 of 4
Author: @piecesofscully
Rating: PG-13 - Strong R
Timeline: Mid-season 7
Notes: Again, thank you to @bohoartist for all of her beta and support while writing this.  She was crucial to me finishing this, and was a constant source of support. Also, ½ of the multimedia is because of her.  And thank you to my baeta @kateyes224 for all the love and making my writing is the best it can be. 

Friday, Part 1 


DOMBROWSKI RESIDENCE
SATURDAY

The atmosphere within the house is relaxed the next morning, with much of the activity confined to the kitchen as Claire mindlessly hums a tune while preparing breakfast for everyone.  Jack sips coffee at the table with Mulder and Scully, while the smell of bacon frying on the stove sends their stomachs into a growling frenzy.

“Can I help with anything?” Scully asks.  

Claire waves her hand and shakes her head.  “No, thank you.  Breakfast is the least I can offer you.  Sit and drink that coffee.”  

“How’d you two sleep?”  Jack asks, his voice cloaked in nonchalance, but his eyes flick back and forth between the two agents desperately asking the loaded question he’s too afraid to speak out loud, did you experience anything?    

At the mere mention of sleep, Scully struggles to stifle a yawn and her recollection of last night with the back of her hand.  

Jack chuckles.  “That well, huh?  I know that mattress is a little lumpy.”

“No,” Scully answers quickly.  “No, it was fine, thank you.”

He rests his elbows on the table, leaning towards her.  Slivers of reluctant hope glimmer around the edges of his voice when he finally verbalizes, “Something else then?”

Mulder nudges a fresh cup of coffee in Scully’s direction, who takes it with a small smile of appreciation.  “Just new surroundings,” he offers.  

Concealed beneath the table, Scully brushes her knee against Mulder’s, a silent thank you for stepping in and ending a conversation she wasn’t in the frame of mind to have.  “Not working today, Jack?”  she asks, changing the subject.

“Took the weekend off,” he says turning to flash a smile in the direction of his wife.  She turns as if on cue, and winks at her husband.  “I’m planning to spend it with my family, and you fine people.”

Mulder downs the remaining coffee from his mug as Claire shuffles to the cupboard and begins pulling down plates.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Claire says as she crosses to place the dishes on the table.  “Just waiting on the biscuits.”

“Would you mind if I went and introduced myself to Joey before we eat?” Mulder asks.

“Of course not,” Claire responds.  “Go on up, he’s in his room playing.  It’s the last door on the right.”

Mulder flashes Scully a smile before exiting the kitchen.

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Fake Deathes // Clone mini imagines

Rex:

Rex knew the moment General Skywalker entered the room, that something was wrong. He was too tense, and the younger togrutan Jedi trailing behind him had abandoned her usual carefree smile for an uncertain look of hesitation.

Everyone in the room noticed, Rex could feel the tension rising in his brothers. The chatter of happy conversations slowly died down as clone heads turned to watch the Jedi walked closer to them. As the talking decreased, nervous fidgeting increased. That’s when Rex realized you, the resident special agent, his amazing girlfriend, wasn’t to be seen. He knew full and well that the rest of your team had arrived last night. Rex had assumed you were among the crowd that were immediately shuffled into debriefing rooms.

“Men, I have some bad news for you.” Skywalker paused, making eye contact with each soldier, but the Captain could feel Ahsoka’s eyes linger on him. “Agent (Y/L/N), was declared missing in action on her team’s arrival last night. After very extensive debriefs, I’m saddened to announce that our special tasks agent, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), has been killed in action.”

Rex felt his heart shatter, but he couldn’t let his men see him come undone. He tensed every muscle in his, stood rigidly straight, jaw clenched, with his eyes staring straight at the General. For once, the General wasn’t so easy to read. He didn’t look sad. He looked troubled and so did his Padawan. Both Jedi glanced to Rex, feeling the despair in his force signature.

That was the first night Rex had gotten blackout drunk. So drunk, Fives and Echo had to drag his ass back to the barracks when the bartender cut him off. Rex was one of five people who had ever been completely cut off.

Back at the barracks, Fives and Echo had pleaded Cody to help convince Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka to leave Rex alone for night. They couldn’t let the generals and commander see their respected Captain like this. Angry drunk, yelling at and cursing everything, punching and kicking walls.

The next morning, Kix had to bandage up bloody knuckles and administer pain meds. It wasn’t a good morning for the 501st. Most clones knew of the Captain’s relationship with the agent, but no one knew how to console the Captain. He lost the one thing that kept him fighting.

After a week and a half of this behavior, Anakin had enough. Ahsoka could swear up and down he muttered, “Fuck the Jedi council, this is just cruel.”

Marching into the clone barracks, Anakin ignored every trooper as they scrambled to attention. Ahsoka jogged after him, spouting “Attease.”es and “as you were.”eS.

Finally, the Jedi burst into his quarters. The Captain didn’t jump to attention, didn’t even seem to notice their arrival from his position, sitting on the edge of his bed- head held in his hands. Ahsoka had never seen any clone look so disheveled. Rex hadn’t shaved in a while and was a few days past a five o clock shadow. Creating a scraggly barely there beard. His normally well kept bleached, buzzed hair was looking worse for wear too. His natural black roots were coming through and the normally buzzed look was growing a little shaggy. And the worst were his eyes when he finally looked up. The usually golden tinted brown eyes, seemed dull. Dark shadows under both made the Jedi wonder if he actually slept in the past few days. The bags accentuated the shadows and added several years-decades- to his appearance.

“Rex, I need you to come with us. That’s an order.” Anakin commanded, trying to keep the sympathy out of his voice. As much as Rex wanted to say no, he knew he was still a soldier and had to follow orders.

“Yes, sir.” Was mumbled as the captain began to click armor into place and placed his helmet under his arm.

A very awkward and silent walk later, the 501st trio were in a dark comms room. “What’s this about, sirs?”

“It’s about (y/n). Rex we know you were…. close.. with her. We also know about the slump you’ve been in.” Anakin answered gingerly. Rex was stunned to silence, no idea what to say.

“And while I’m not supposed to tell you this, (Y/N) is not dead. She’s is deep cover in separatist controlled space. Which is why it was imperative that news spread that she died. I heavily disagreed with the council on their decision to announce her death to the public like they did, but nevertheless. I’m sorry we put you through that pain.” Anakin explained, but ended lamely with Rex still looking as sad as before with a twinge of anger. Ahsoka quickly interjected.

“Which is why we set up a comms transmission so you could talk to her!” The commander added, covering her anxious tone with a forced happy one.

The comm’s machine beeped, Anakin pressed a few buttons before speaking, “That’ll be her now. We’ll leave you to it. C’mon, Snips.”

A moment later, a hologram sprung up showing you. He was speechless as he looked at the blue colored hologram. Regardless of the blue tones, he could see your disguise. Your hair was cut differently and definitely a different color, or maybe it was a wig, behind thick glasses you were wearing some kind of colored contacts, and you’re makeup was done differently.

But you were still you, and you were giving him a weird look, “Rex? What are you- how did- Rex, honey, you look awful.”

Rex swallowed thickly, watching as you periodically check over your shoulder, “I thought you were dead, no reason to look good anymore.”

“Rex, I’m sorry, the chancellor himself put me on the assignment and swore me to secrecy. I couldn’t disobey direct orders, you know that.” You explained softly.

“I would have done the same thing, but dear god, what I felt when I thought I lost you… I felt like I was dying- getting ripped apart.” He confessed. His fingers were twitching; he wanted to touch you, hold you, tangle his hands in your hair-anything to prove you were real.

“I’m so sorry, Rex. I really am. That’s not what I wanted.” You choked out, on the verge of tears. That’s the last thing Rex wanted. You were checking over your shoulder more often now and Rex knew it was risky for you to stay in communications that long.

“I know, just be careful. When can I see you again?” He asked hopefully. You gave a sympathetic smile.

“I check in every three weeks so you’ll have to talk to Anakin. I’m using throw away comms.” You explained. “I don’t want to, but I need to go.”

Rex didn’t want to see you go again. “I know. I don’t want to either. But please be careful, don’t do anything I wouldn’t let you do.”

“I wouldn’t get anything done, baby.” You laughed through the tears. “I love you. This will turn the tide, I promise.”

“Go be amazing. I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” He smiled, reaching a hand up to your hologram, as if he could touch his hand to yours.

“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” You nodded, placing your hand up.

His hand slipped through yours like water; then you were gone.
___________________________
Wolffe:

He rewinded the transmission footage again.

“For the republic!” You cried. Wolffe cringed. He knew you wouldn’t say shit like that. Because as much as you supported the war effort you had told him many times about:

How you “despised this intergalactic pissing contest that really only boils down to money problems and hurt pride.”

Your words not his. Another reason is that whenever you did something overly stupid you always said, “Be careful, boys.”

Followed by a wink, smirk, and whatever stupid, reckless thing you were doing to give Wolffe a heart attack. But in the video, you’re movements were choppy, you weren’t smiling, and you weren’t sassing off as usual.

“Commander, I hate to give up, but there’s no way Agent (Y/L/N) could have survived that blast.” There was even something off about the way the General spoke to him. It was forced and it sounded like he didn’t actually believe what he was saying.

“General. (Y/N)… she’d never say something like that. And watch the way she moves, she’s choppy almost robotic in her movements. Sir, you know (Y/N) is too quick and graceful for that to catch her.” Wolffe analyzed, not once taking his eyes off the hologram video.

“Wolffe, I want her to be alive as much as you do, but she was already injured and then caught in an extremely violent explosion.” Plo responded, placing a hand of the clone in denial. Wolffe shook his head.

“We never found a body.” Wolffe tried again, holding on to any evidence you were alive. His hands gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Wolffe, there wouldn’t be a body. The blast would have disintegrated everything.” The general told him. Wolffe hardened his jaw and stood up straight.

“You’re right sir. It’s still a shame.” He sighed, defeated. He desperately hoped the general couldn’t pick up the shattered pieces of his heart as he turned and exited the room.

Upon entering his private quarters, he unleashed all the emotions he hid from the general. He punched and kicked the wall all while letting out a sub primal yell. He was angry and sad. He wanted to blame someone. He wanted to do badly put blame on someone else so he could go out and hurt them for taking you. But the only person to blame was you, and it was rude to blame the dead. Besides, Wolffe never could stay mad at you.

Once the wall had taken its beating, he moved to his bed and wailed on his pillow. Between hits, he almost missed a small holo-transmitter. The incoming and outgoing call buttons were taped over, only leave the play-existing message button. He looked at the transmitter quizzically and then picked up his pillow. Lo and Behold, a note laid pristinely folded underneath. He unfolded it and read it, mumbling the contents as he did.

“Dear Wolffe,
I know you’re probably really angry right now. Just, press play.
Love, (Y/N)”

So he pressed play, a hologram of you popped up and began talking.

“Hey Wolffe, if your watching this, it’s because the chancellor has decided to send me into a deep cover mission. For that to happen, special agent: (y/n) (y/l/n,” she paused to glance up at the camera, “has to die. I have to die so…” another pause for her to squint at a datapad- probably a briefing file, “Anatovi Crastillia from Garen llV can become a separatist citizen. They’re gonna tell you I’m dead, but I can’t bear the guilt of lying to you and making you feel that pain. I feel silly even recording this, but you deserved to know. I don’t know how long this mission will take, but I’ll think of you every minute. Wolffe, I love you so much.”

You had to pause for another few minutes to breathe and get you composure. “Please don’t hate me, I didn’t want to trick you. Please be careful. Tell the boys I said to be careful.” With that she reached to turn off the camera, but hesitated.

“I love you. So, so, much.” With that, she turned off the recording. When the hologram fizzled out, the holo-transmitter popped up a stationary image. A photograph of the two of you. Wolffe was grimacing to the camera while you smiled broadly beside him. He was supporting most of your weight, your uniform ripped and had definitely seen better days. Your face was smudged with ash and a little bit of blood, but you couldn’t of looked happier. It was the day Wolffe told you he loved you after you almost got killed. The commander shook his head at the photograph but saved it to his own Holopad. He’d miss you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop fighting for you.
_____________________________
Fives:

Unlike the above, you weren’t some special agent with an important mission to save the galaxy. You were an engineer with 108th legion who heard the wrong thing at the right time.

When you were with the 108th, you happened upon secrets that neither the republic or confederacy knew. You only told the Jedi council for them to decide what to do with it. They decided it was best to keep it within the council, but that didn’t stop the separatists from wanting the information at any cost.

So to keep you safe and still make use of your engineering skills, they relocated you to the Rishi moon outpost. You’d seen many troopers come and go, but you and the sergeant stayed constant. And then domino squad came along.

You made no pretenses from the beginning. You told them that you were only good at fixing things and the only reason you were important to the Republic was because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Fives liked that. It made him feel more secure that he didn’t have to worry about you running into battle and getting killed. It was easy for the two of you to fall in love on the Rishi moon. You were together all the time. Then the separatists caught wind of your location.

Conveniently located on a base they were already planning on invading. All the more reason to come. So they came, killed several troopers, and put you, the domino squadron, Rex, and Cody through hell.

But you had long standing orders, from the very first day you had the information. If you were found, fake your death and when it was safe, hightail it out of there.

So when the base exploded, you ‘accidentally’ separated yourself from the group and cried as you ran as far as possible from the republic outpost. You knew Fives and Echo thought you dead, and the guilt was crushing you. But nevertheless, you kept running to the only other form of civilization on the Rishi moon: a refueling depot.

From there, you stowed away on a ship and repeated the process from planet to planet. It took roughly two months to get to Coruscant with out blowing cover and without stumbling into a war zone.

Once on Coruscant, all you had to do was make it to the Jedi temple. Sadly, you efforts were hopeless.

As you rushed through the busy streets of the planet, you kept your head down- flinching anytime you saw any kind of droid. Finally you breezed by the clone barracks. Six more blocks. Then, it fell apart. You ran face first into a troopers chest.

You literally just bounced off of him, falling on your butt in the process, but he didn’t even stumble. You still tried to hide your face, “I’m really sorry, sir, just late for a meeting.”

He watched you as you stuttered out the excuse. You finally looked up to him and realized it was an arc trooper…. with a rather familiar handprint on the chest of his armor.

“Echo, what’s the hold- holy kriff is that who I think it is?” Another Arc trooper approached, your heart fluttered at the possibility that it was Fives. The brothers popped off their helmets.

It was him, no mistaking that tattoo on his temple.

“(y/n)?” Fives gasped. Kneeling down in front of you, he offered you his hand, “I thought you were dead… everyone thinks you’re dead. How… how are you here? We thought you died with Hevy.”

“I’m sorry. I had orders.” You answered lamely. The arc trooper armor had your focus. Then you realized you were doing more staring than answering, “I’m so, so sorry Fives. The day I got the god forsaken information, I was given orders to ‘appear dead’ if ever found.”

“I understand, but, god, I missed you so much.” He whispered pulling you up and into a warm embrace- well, warm and stiff, clone armor was never good for hugs.

“Can you take me too the Jedi temple? I’m like two months late. Also, I’d like to hear how you got these.” You said, motioning to the specific ARC armor pieces and then tugging on his kama.

He bent over slightly to whisper, “I’ll tell you. Then, I’ll show you just how fast we can get it off.”

“I should have come back sooner.” You gulped, blushing and giggling- it was as though you had never left. Echo had breezed off moments ago, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you should have.” Fives agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

____________


Guess who is terrible at following prompts.