RAWLES PLAYS MASS EFFECT: EPISODE TWO

Finally got this uploaded after my editing software decided to stop being a douche.

RAWLES PLAYS MASS EFFECT: EPISODE ONE

Final result of all voting was: Spacer, Sole Survivor, Paragon, Vanguard with Face A!

Keep the Car Running // Darkest Powers

Content Advisory: Sexy Sex
Character/Pairing: Chloe/Derek, The Pack, the Edison Group kids
Spoilers: Implicit for the conclusion of Darkest Powers; vague and varied for Women of the Otherworld
Summary: Alternate title: Derek and Chloe Touch Each Other’s Junk.

Strength of Conviction // Thundercats (2011)

Content Advisory: Cool for Kids (who are into the full furry)
Character/Pairing: Cheetara, Lion-O, Lion-O+Cheetara, (Cheetara/Tygra)
Spoilers: For the pilot, “Omens, Part One and Two”
Summary: More than her job, it was her purpose, and she was good at it. This pleasure she was allowed and in it she reveled.

HERE IS A PREVIEW FROM THE NEXT INSTALLMENT OF WINTER’S HEART JUST TO PROVE TO YOU ALL THAT IT EXISTS

“Poor Fandral,” Sif cooed, as she gave Hogun a hand up. “Would you like me to be more gentle?”

“Only if it please you, my lady,” he drawled. “I do rather suspect that being… pleased might improve your disposition.” A few chuckles of amusement rose at this, and one long, high whistle.

“Fandral,” Volstagg said, his voice thrumming with warning. Hogun cast his friend a disapproving glare.

Sif hoped that if she was blushing as hotly as she felt, they would all assume it solely out of anger.

“Is that an invitation, Fandral?” she asked viciously, bearing down on him as if he had challenged her to a fight; after a fashion, he had. “Is there something you think you could teach me in the bedchamber as you never have in the ring?”

She deliberately raked her gaze up and down his body dismissively.

“Or, like in the realm of war, are you hoping to learn from proximity?”

Fandral raised his hands placatingly as a loud bark of laughter sounded from somewhere to Sif’s left.

“It was naught but careless talk, friend. I apologize,” Fandral said and his furrowed brow spoke of sincerity. “That was out of line.”

Sif shrugged one shoulder, the storm breaking immediately, the inferno diminishing with his surrender. She had not spent her life training alongside proud young men and never learned to bluster.

So this happened I guess.

Title: We Make the Dirt Go Flying (AO3) (DW)
Fandom: Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series
Content Advisory: All the Sex
Spoilers: For Romancing Mr Bridgerton.
Character/Pairing: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Author’s Note: Who even knows. I blame Marog.
Summary: Penelope could muster very little resistant to Colin.

Q:Sif/Loki, musical instrument. <33333

keeptomandcarryon

“Play for me,” she’d said, though she hadn’t really thought he would. It had been a very long time and, quite literally, worlds away when last he had. At least, to the best of her knowledge.

Interests shifted in youth and, Sif suspected, the appeal of so affronting Thor — who had absolutely no musical talent to speak of — also faded. But Loki lifted the fiddle, eyes on hers, and tucked it against his cheek. His fingers arched, like spider’s legs, along the neck, and he held the bow loosely in his other hand.

The start was soft, almost shy, before the music grew stronger, and Sif leaned back, eyes closed. She could still see them both, though, so young: him playing to the sunset from his room, and her beneath the balcony, knees to her chin as she listened.

Q:ed/winry, chill

Anonymous

Sometimes, in the winter, Ed’s shoulder still aches from the cold. It’s worse than the leg in some ways, because routine maintenance can help that, but with his arm there’s nothing routine about it.

Winry tugs off his shirt when she sees a certain grimace, then grumbles at him as she works about how he should mention it earlier. She examines the vestiges of his automail implants, the bits that they couldn’t remove without ravaging his shoulder, and her hands are warm against his skin.

It feels better then, for whatever reason, but he lets her finish anyway.

Q:Sif/Loki, IN SPACE! au, opposite sides of an intergalactic war, there is a bar

vilegoblindaughter

She slides in across from him without a word and waves her order to the bartender across the room. The booth is far enough in back that the rest of the bar’s noise fades to an incomprehensible thrum of rowdy shouts and alien languages.

“And if I was saving that seat for someone?” Loki asks, then takes a sip of his drink. It’s meant to be a vintage from Nornir V, but he’d bet any amount of money whoever manufactured this swill has never even been within light years of that quadrant.

“You were,” Sif replies easily. He’s never been able to bluff her and it’s never mattered whether they were on opposite sides of a dinner table or staring each other down through a ship’s targeting system.

She rolls her shoulders in her jacket, plain and nondescript. She’s grown as unaccustomed to being out of uniform as he’s grown to seeing her thus.

“Arrogance is hardly becoming,” Loki says.

Sif bares her teeth. “If that was true neither of us would be here.”

“Yes, well, give it a few hours and neither of us will have been here, right?”

She doesn’t reply, only reaches for his drink and downs it, runs her tongue along her lower lip as she finishes. He flexes his fingers against the table. His knuckles go white. Her eyes are dark. Beneath the table her knee shifts against his.

They don’t wait for her drink to come.

Q:Roy/Riza, dog training (or lack thereof)

thesixpennybook

“Hayate! Hayate, no!” Roy’s voice is serious, Hayate’s growls less so.

The tortured sock is stretched now to twice its length, but neither party will relent. Roy steps back and Hayate only bites down harder as he’s dragged forward, until the sock’s twin steps in. Roy slips on it and crashes to the floor.

Riza peers over the paper to be sure he hasn’t hurt more than his pride. Hayate pounces onto Roy’s chest, then barks happily as he drops the sock on Roy’s face.

“I told you to let him have it,” Riza says mildly.

“Why doesn’t he do this with your socks?” Roy asks. Hayate’s tail thumps against his chest as it wags furiously.

Riza scoffs. “He’s very well trained.”

Q:ROY/RIZA - post-coital snuggles

#predictable

liraelgoldhand

There’s a look he gets, after, all heavy lids and mussed hair and smug that makes it impossible for Riza not to grin embarrassingly in response. Roy’s arms are thrown around her, his fingers at her spine.

“Fix your face,” Riza says before burying hers in his shoulder.

She doesn’t have to look to know his smile only grows wider; laughter rumbles through his chest, tingles against her skin.

Q:I hope you don't mind cheesy prompt. Sif/Loki All the ways they say I love you without using those words.

Anonymous

Loki’s mastery of words is widely known, but Sif holds that his hands are more eloquent. His nail runs along the pink shell of her ear with such careful phrasing, and he winds his fingers in her hair, tight to help enunciation. His fingertip traces her lips as they curve; her teeth show; her lashes sweep down — a reply.

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