little storm trooper

Model!Oikawa and stylist!Iwaizumi:

I know I’ve already done model au, but what if Oikawa is a model with one of the weirdest fashion sense in a certain piece of clothing. ( >؂•̀ )☆

  • Having twin younger sisters to take care of and dress up, Iwaizumi is not only the world best big brother but has found his love in styling and fashion in a young age.
  • Iwaizumi runs a fashion blog during his school year and gets discovered by a famous stylist in his first year in college. He starts working as intern in the same model agency along his mentor and becomes an official stylist fresh out of college. 
  • Iwaizumi is never a nosy person, even with his sharp eyes and sense in fashion, he doesn’t normally criticise people outfit choice. But then there is Oikawa.
  • Oikawa Tooru is the bright new star of the model agency. Iwaizumi has helped with a few outfit selection for Oikawa’s photo shoots and has seen the final photo select of the model. But he has never worked with the model before. 
  • The first time Iwaizumi is assigned as Oikawa’s stylist, Iwaizumi almost chokes on his water when the model walks in the studio that day, in a red bat-sleeved sweater, plaid shorts, brown oxfords and a pair of neon green socks. 
  • (It takes great effort of Iwaizumi to ignore the little storm trooper heads adorned the hem of the socks.)
  • Iwaizumi mentally bangs his head to the wall when the first line he has with the model is “Please take off your socks.
  • Oikawa is confused but grins. “That’s a weird way of greeting. But at least you are not asking me to take off my pants?
  • The names are exchanged then and the socks are confiscated. Oikawa goes home in a new pair of simple-colored, boring, socks along with Iwaizumi’s private numbers.
  • They starts hanging out off work, and Iwaizumi regrets accepting Oikawa invitation to his apartment as soon as he sees Oikawa’s sock collections. 
  • Why are your socks all so obnoxiously bright and extravagant?” “I am being generous of showing a part of me that are plenty colorful.” “Can you spare the world the horror and do it with your underwear collection instead?
  • So you can be the only one to see them, Iwa-chan?


  • Iwaizumi’s confession gift to Oikawa is a pair of grey knitted socks and a pair of bold yellow and blue underwear with little space ships on them.
Black Friday.  My first and hopefully last work of fan fiction.

Written for the 1013 challenge from @frangipanidownunder and @txf-prompt-box, tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober for the full shameful experience.

Behold my first ever cliched conglomeration of schmaltz work of fan fiction:
1013 words, MSR, 
Rated R-ish, 
Trigger warning: thesaurus abuse and random acts of comma misplacement.

Synopsis:  A former technical writer with a mild brain injury that has messed with the word-finding pathway in her head is talked into writing fic after being assured she’d be able to do it by people who find it relatively easy and don’t have to search for every second word in a thesaurus.  It started out with the best intentions before turning into smut and reaching the word limit before i got to the two remaining black fridays that were part of the original outline.  But I hope you get something out of it despite all that.  And I made you some MSR porn which is under the cut and should make you forget about my story.



Friday, October 13, 1995, Dulles International Airport

It was an exhausting case. A non-stop dark comedy with psychics and bodies and little fat storm troopers, with Scully saving him again. The journey home was complicated by the addition of a ball of fluff with small dog syndrome. Mulder was glad to be heading home.  Despite the cryptic hints he’d been giving Scully all day, his birthday once again went unnoticed.  He blamed some of his misfortune on it being Black Friday, but he hadn’t walked under any ladders holding black cats so that couldn’t completely explain his despondency.

Scully felt his desolation as though it was her own and decided to try to make up for her neglect today.  “Mulder, you look exhausted. Why don’t you head home while I wait for Queequeg to come out. Once I drop him home I’ll bring some take-out around. I can tell you’re tired so I won’t keep you up long”.

Mulder didn’t even have the energy for innuendo, but agreed to Scully’s plan rather than mope around his apartment alone.  He smiled weakly before heading home to shower and make his apartment more presentable.

On the way home she stopped quickly to place an order at the local Lebanese restaurant, grab enough provisions to satisfy her new dog, and pick up a few festive items, before dropping Queequeg at home with a promise that she wouldn’t be too long.  After collecting the multitude of containers comprising a feast fit for a sultan, she arrived at Mulder’s door, bags of food in both hands and a foil balloon between her teeth.

Mulder beamed as he opened the door, lunging to hug her in his excitement before noticing the bags and taking them instead.  She was distracted from the aborted hug by the sight of his jeans-clad ass leading her into his living room where they laid out the array of dips, bread, kafta and salad.  His day’s disappointment was quickly forgotten as he cheekily risked thrusting a pickled turnip dipped in hummus or baba ganoush in Scully’s mouth every time she opened it.   The smells and flavours of the exotic foods were exquisite, and before long they could eat no more.  Laying back on the couch, Scully had to undo the button at the waistband of her jeans to accommodate her extended belly; Mulder doing the same.

“Thank you, Scully. That was perfect.” His genuine smile and the intensity of his gaze suddenly challenged the invariance of time, bringing it to a complete stop as he leant down to place a soft kiss on her lips.  A smile mirroring his own was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the gesture.  Time sped up again as lips, tongues and hands explored, more buttons were unbuttoned and clothing disappeared.  Mulder’s hands followed the curves of her body; his mouth left a trail of ecstasy as he made his way down her neck, devoting time to her incredible breasts before continuing down the midline of her body. He glanced back up to see Scully’s face enraptured, her eyes closed and her breathing erratic.

“Fuck, Scully, you know how to give a guy a happy birthday,” he smiled as he directed his attention towards her sensitive vulva.  Her hands clutched at his hair and her back arched as he explored her with his lips and tongue, then slipping his talented fingers inside her.  Before long the pleasure-pain of his skilful stimulation brought a succession of gasps, heralding the flood of her orgasm through her glowing body.

“God, Mulder”, she moaned, “it might be your birthday but I feel like I’m getting the gift.” She steadied her breath, feeling the intensity of Mulder’s need.  She needed him in return like she needed air.  

Mulder suddenly looked concerned.  “I don’t have any condoms, Scully”, he realised as he lay back on the couch beside her, trying in frustration to bring himself back under control.  

“Well it’s fortunate that it’s your birthday, Mulder.  I have a gift you might like,” she said, presenting him with the package that she intuitively picked up at the store earlier.

“God, I love you, Scully. You anticipate my every need,” he said as he kissed her again before carefully rolling the prophylactic over his unwavering erection.  Their mouths resumed their mutual greed as their bodies joined in passion.  

Clinging to one another in the afterglow, Mulder considered his day.

“Black Friday proved very lucky this year, Scully”, he said, holding her close, his mouth claiming every inch of her soft skin as he spoke.  “I’ve wanted you forever.”

“I love you” she assured him shyly, in that voice that always resonated in his groin

“Next time my birthday falls on a Friday the 13th it will be the year 2000,” he mused.  If we can stop the world from ending, we’ll have to plan something even bigger.  I’m amazed that you did all this for me after the week we had.  Next time it comes around, we’ll have to celebrate in style.  It’ll be our 5th anniversary,” he brazenly declared, “a double celebration”.

Friday, 13 October 2000, Alexandria

Scully entered Mulder’s apartment, not bringing a feast with her this time.  Having spent the last couple of months bringing up almost everything she ate, her amplified sense of smell left her unable to eat anything but the blandest of foods.

She sat alone on his couch in the dark, wrapping herself in his Navajo blanket, desperately trying to feel his presence around her.  She allowed her tears to flow; a rare indulgence.  Her hands on her still flat belly, she made assurances to its tiny occupant that he would return.

“He completes us, little one.  I know he’ll be back.  I’d know it if he was gone forever.”

Remembering his confidence and uncharacteristic optimism on his last Black Friday birthday, she fell asleep on his worn leather couch, imagining their shared joy when she finally got to tell him of the triple celebration this year, allowing hope gather within her that they would be together again soon.


There. I did it.  It’s done.  Skinner has my resignation.  And I’ll remind anyone who ever suggests I write my own fan fic again of this effort, immortalised on Tumblr for my eternal shame.

As my talents lie in other areas, I’ve included an example of my photoshop fuckery as a gesture of apology for my story.  It’s rather NSFW so it’s hidden under the cut       


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  • Castiel: I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but from now on you do what I tell you.
  • Sam: [to Gabriel] Aren’t you a little short for a storm-trooper?
  • Gabriel: [to Sam] Will somebody get this big walking carpet out of my way?
  • Dean: Sometimes I amaze even myself.
  • Crowley: That doesn’t sound too hard.
  • Crowley: [to Castiel while gesturing at Dean] You came in that thing? You’re braver than I thought.
  • Dean: [about Crowley] I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.
Familiar yet unrecognizable (closed rp)

Aya sighs adjusting her blaster in her arm this was her first patrol with a little squad of storm troopers they quietly talk amongst themselves mainly about the alien girls at the local bar she huffs disgusting nerf herders all of them she glances over and notices movements by a stand selling parts she begins to stroll over to the crates

Retraining: Take Two

So the point of this exercise, as Tony liked to put it, wasn’t to show up the two Really Old Guys and make them realize that they ought to retire.

Seriously, Tony wasn’t blind and despite all the senior citizen jokes, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were pretty much on the right side of young, fit and smoking hot.  He was also familiar with the Three Rules regarding America’s Sweetheart and America’s Oldest Heartthrob  and would have to admit that he was solidly set upon Rule No. 3.  Which was okay, since everyone else on the planet was crushing on the good captain and his sergeant.  Nice to know he wasn’t alone and all that.

The point was that they needed to test the combat fitness and teamwork of Captain America and the newly reclaimed Winter Soldier.  Tony, by the way, had JARVIS archive the priceless footage of Steve Rogers planting his feet by the river of truth (quote unquote) and proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that James Buchanan Barnes could not be held truly responsible for his actions as HYDRA’s pet assassin.  He was the country’s longest held POW, subject to unimaginable torment and brainwashing, and yeah - at the end of it, Tony was fairly sure Steve would’ve been elected President of the United States if he wanted to, the show of support was so overwhelming. 

So anyway.  Retraining.  Getting Cap and Bucky back in the saddle against the Forces of Evil.  And also this was a GIANT FUCK YOU to HYDRA and the long dead Obadiah Stane for what they’d forced Barnes to do to Tony’s parents - never mind Daddy Issues. 

Tony sets up the ginormous Training Room (“room” was an understatement but it had to do) which he referred to as “The Jungle” because he pretty much had classic G n’ R playing while he designed the place.  The Room could be set up to simulate any environment, any structure for a nearly infinite number of potential missions and ops.  Happy and Maria Hill brought in the agents - carefully screened and processed to infinity because again, HYDRA - as opponents. 

The objective for today was a rescue.  Since Tony valued his balls and also hey, trying not to be a sexist pig here, Natasha wasn’t going to be the damsel in distress.  Clint got the honors.

“Why do I gotta play Princess Toadstool?” Clint had whined. “I don’t even look good in a pink dress!”

“Because Nat will probably rescue herself in Real Life before the rest of us idiots can even get our acts together,” Tony explained patiently.  “And I’ll get you a purple dress if it makes you happy.  Now go sit tight and wait for Mario and Luigi to come save you.”

Naturally, Agent - no, Director Agent brought the popcorn.

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the signs as star wars quotes

aries: “great, kid. don’t get cocky” 

taurus: “may the force be with you”

gemini: “laugh it up, fuzz ball” 

cancer: “i sense great fear in you, skywalker. you have hate, you have anger, but you don’t use them”

leo: “travelling through hyperspace ain’t like dusting crops, farm boy”

virgo: “don’t call me a mindless philosopher you overweight glob of grease”

libra: “you were the chosen one”

scorpio: “fear is the path to the dark side”

sagittarius: “mmm… lost a planet, master obi-wan has… how embarrassing”

capricorn: “why you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf-herder” 

aquarius: “i find your lack of faith disturbing” 

pisces: “aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper?”

Hunted. Chapter 4

Chapter One 

Chapter Two

Chapter Three 

Chapter Four: 

Pieces, my body felt like it was being broken into a million pieces. I felt as if my whole being was being broken into the tiniest of shards, my heart thumping from inside my chest. Everything was hazy and a part of me felt a little numb as two storm troopers carried me from the torture room. Before they’d taken me they’d injected me with some sort of sedative to relax me, but so far all it did was paralyze my physical ability to move. My brain however, was fully functional and my mind was racing with their every passing step. I had no idea where they were taking me.

They guided me down narrowed hallways that were filled with other storm troopers. I wanted to be scared, and perhaps I should’ve been. I was still wearing my resistance uniform, our symbol embedded to my black leather jacket chest. A few passer byes whispered to each other as my drugged body was dragged before them, but I paid no attention. All I could think of was Him and what he’d told me in the interrogation room. Kylo Ren intended to have me join him here… the thought alone was enough to make me sick to my stomach. How was I supposed to be with him when all I felt was pain? When all I saw was the Ben Solo I’d grown up with.

My mind lingers on the thought for what feels like mere seconds before the storm troopers make a sharp turn, dragging me down a quiet hall until we reach a sleek black door. My arms struggle a bit against the restrain of their fingertips when the door opens, but it doesn’t make a difference. Instead their grips tighten as the door whooshes open and they step in. The room they’ve taken me to is a bedroom… His bedroom. My stomach clenches at the sight and my mind begins to fully realize how serious Kylo Ren had been when he said that he intended to have me join him.

The pair of storm troopers guide me to the edge of the black comforter clad bed, leaving me to fall back onto the mattress before they leave me alone. My paralyzed body lays there helplessly as they shut me into the room and lock me in. My ears ring and my body struggles to regain control. I lay there for what feels like forever before the sedative begins to wear off, and the ability to move slowly begins to overtake me once again.

But even after I can move once again I find that I don’t want to. Instead I feel anguish wash over, tears forming in my eyes. All I could feel was pain and torment, but it wasn’t only my pain that I could feel… it was a feeling that seemed to be in the very air of the bedroom I was laying in. I could feel the torn sensation of owner of the room, and it weaved its way into my inner thoughts like a parasite searching for a host.

So much had happened since the night before and it left my head spinning. I’d been with Poe Dameron, looking for the map that leads to Luke Skywalker and now I was here… I was on the Star Killer Base and I was with Kylo Ren. At the thought of him I realize where I am. The bedroom I’d been led to was his and I could sense it. It’s the moment I realize this that the overwhelming need for me to sit up overtakes me. With all of the strength I can muster I force myself to stand, and guide myself up off of his bed. I stagger forward until I’m in the middle of the room, my eyes darting to every single corner as if at any moment he’s going to reveal himself.

I stand perfectly still with bound hands balling into tight fists as I struggle to relax. Something about being here on this ship… something about being here with him was eating me alive. The negative energy the swarmed around everything on the ship hung like a fog threatening to engulf me. The energy comes from the corner of the room, but when my eyes move to the source I feel my blood run cold. Hidden in the corner, on the top of a small stand is a mask. The mask is burned and ruined with age, but even from a distance I can see what it is. The old mask of a sith that had met a tragic end after sacrificing his life for the life of his son.

Darth Vader’s mask stares at me as I stare at it, my clenched fists tightening their grip as I move forward in hesitance. I don’t know what it is about the mask that attracts me to it, but I can tell that the attraction is a dark one. Every Jedi wrestled with being attracted to the dark side, but I hadn’t felt this attraction since I’d left that life behind. Sure I was still force sensitive and I still felt that connection but I’d lost all hope when Ben Solo turned into Kylo Ren.

I reach the mask within seconds, my inner thoughts spinning out of control as I place my hands along the cold wood of the stand. My heart beat quickens the closer I get to it, the energy attracting me like a moth to a flame. I want to reach out and touch the mask, but the moment I try his voice stops me.

“Addicting isn’t it? The power of the dark side.”

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