#(chill and lurk and try and enjoy myself)

[grimgrinnr]

I’ll be honest, today was a weird day. Don’t know to describe it, just weird and a little all over the place

Just gonna chill tonight, try and get normal

[slytherizz]

Petulant - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Fluff, Slice of Life, First Kiss

A/N I'm trying to be kinder to myself when it comes to my writing. I usually share longer pieces but I have so many little bits of fluffy drabble and I'm trying to remember writing is meant to be fun and not every one-shot needs to be perfect.

Palms flat on the jetty Sebastian hoisted himself out of the water. Cursing violent profanities as he shook his hair out like a wet dog as he scrambled onto the dock. Shaking whether with rage or because the frigid water of the black lake had chilled him to the bone. She wasn’t sure. 

Not that she cared. 

Sebastian deserved it for being such a petulant pain in her arse. And little water never killed anyone; no matter how many unsavoury creatures lurked in its murky depths.

He’d practically goaded her into shoving him off the jetty. It had only been a matter of time before one of them retaliated against this little bonding exercise of Hecat’s. If he'd seen the opening first she'd be the one drenched and spluttering - she was sure of it. 

Having to endure sharing a potions station where they could use Gareth as a buffer was one thing. But being forced to spend her precious and most sacred Sallow-free hours, in the freezing cold catching Grindalow's as punishment was beyond the pale. All because they caused a teensy fire that was entirely Sebasitan’s fault when a duel had gotten out of hand. 

Really what had Hecate expected to achieve with this cruel and unusual detention? That they’d return to the castle thick as thieves? Strike up a newfound camaraderie that would want to make her do anything besides hex the smarmy git?

Impossible. Their professor was far too optimistic and this exercise had been doomed from the start.

“Enjoy your swim?” she sneered. Perhaps it hadn’t been an entire waste of time. At least now she could savour this mental image of him sopping wet and looking utterly ridiculous. 

Regaining his balance and rising to his full height, Sebastian stalked towards her. Face like thunder stopping mere inches away from her to glare down his nose. Droplets of water falling from his hair onto her cheeks. She swatted them away wrinkling her nose in disgust which only seemed to enrage him further. 

"You. Are the most immature. Insufferable. Petulant witch, I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t hex you on the spot! Why exactly did you feel the need to throw me in the bastard lake?”

He was standing so close to her she should really step away but her feet were practically glued to the spot. Standing so close his hot breath ghosted across her cheeks. So close in fact, she could see his freckled skin through the shirt which clung to every inch of him. Sheer white leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination. 

How she'd never noticed quite how large Sebastian had gotten until he was impressing down on her was a mystery. A realisation that came too little too late as she’d turned their altercations physical. 

No matter where she looked there seemed to be more of him. Broad shoulders heaving with every laboured breath. Water beading in sparse hairs on his chest which peaked out from over his open-top buttons. Muscles in his jaw and neck twitching in agitation. 

Her eyes of their own volition had begun to meander down his stomach following the trail of hair wondering exactly how far they went before she caught herself. Wrenching them up again to his face, before she saw if the cling of his soaking tartan trousers exposed just as much of him as his shirt. Half terrified of what she'd find; the other half disgusted with her own desire to look. She didn't know what kind of feelings it would invoke but by the heat pooling low in her abdomen - she could hazard a guess.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” 

She blushed wildly. Mouth flapping open and closing like a fish out of water. Trying to stamp down the unwelcome feeling that made her want to press her thighs together. 

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows lowering sceptically. "You're staring."

"I am not!” she spluttered. Trying to recapture the feeling of overwhelming irritation she’d felt the precise moment she’d thrown him overboard. “An obnoxious idiot just happens to be shouting his head off in my eyeline."

"You're blushing." He smirked, voice giddy with amusement as if he'd finally cracked some impossible puzzle. Her hands snapped up to clasp her burning face to hide the evidence. His tongue darted across his bottom lip licking off water. Which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

"Is that why you pushed me in? Wanted to get a good look?"

"I wanted you to shut your mouth and stop whinging for five minutes so I could have some bloody peace. But it seems to have had the opposite effect - you're chatting even more bollocks than before."

"So this why you’re so insufferable all the time. This-” He gestured down to his dishevelled albeit to her utter dismay, not unappealing state of undress. “Is your idea of flirting?”

“Flir- Flirting? You must have knocked your head on your way down.”

“Merlin. This is rich - You’d be pulling on my pigtails if I had them."

"No. I. Wouldn't!"

Foot stomping hard on the rickety planks in frustration. Rather childish and definitely not her proudest display. It did little to prove her argument and instead to her dismay only seemed to make Sebastian grin wider.

"You fancy me." Not a question. He declared it like he’d won some imaginary battle. 

"I absolutely do not."

He leaned further towards her she could see the glint of triumph in his brown eyes. She swallowed hard eyes flicking towards his lips and back again. 

"Liar.”

Strong hands seized her face and knowing he’d won - Sebastian crashed his lips into hers. They were wet and cool against hers from his tumble into the lake as he kissed her. But so soft and inviting in a way she didn’t think anyone's flesh could be it made her head spin. His fingers tangled in her hair, mouth moving demanding against hers. 

Her knee jerked instinctively towards his most precious area but faltered, along with the last of her pride. She could not seem to find the will to pry herself away. Sebastian’s teeth grazed her bottom lip requesting access. She gasped in surprise and he slid his tongue past her parted lips. A shudder ran through her as his tongue flicked against hers.  

He groaned into her mouth, as her tongue matched his motions in maddening strokes. A sound under normal circumstances she would have mocked him mercilessly for only made her kiss him back more feverishly. Regrettably, her hands were just as traitorous as her tongue. Following the curve of broad shoulders, she felt the muscles underneath firm from years of duelling. Admitting defeat she dared to go further tangling in his wet hair. Pulling gently hoping it would elicit more sinful sounds from Sebastian. 

A deep well of desire now pooled in her gut all rational thoughts drowned in. She failed miserably to stifle her own strained moan as large hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him. Skin practically burning despite the frigid temperatures.

A truly pathetic whimper of protest escaped her lips as Sebastian pulled away from their kiss. Leaving her breathless and dizzy even as the cold rushed in. No longer able to leech his warmth she shamefully realised how close their bodies had been pressed together from the chill of her damp clothes. 

He stepped back and if she was capable of forming a coherent thought she would have hexed the smug look off his ridiculous, handsome, infuriating face. 

"Now. I'm going to go and get out of these wet clothes before I catch a death," Sebastian said. As casually as if he was observing the weather and had not just spent the last five minutes snogging the supposed most insufferable witch he’d ever met. Turning quickly on his heels he began striding towards the boat house. Leaving her open-mouthed cheeks burning from the frigid wind lapping at the wet hand print on her cheek or with shameful unwanted desire she wasn't sure. Calling back over his shoulder. A roughish smile pulled on freckled cheeks. A devilish glint in his eye. "If you're ready to stop being such a brat - I'll let you help."

She groaned inwardly, legs following him across the jetty seemingly of their own accord. Powerless to stop herself and praying no one would see her shameless pursuit. 

She knew he'd never let her live this one down.

Not that she cared.

[blankwashed]

muzan kibutsuji.

demon lord, demon king, demon conqueror.

scares most people off when you describe your boyfriend to them but it just makes you laugh.

you’ve grown used to the whispers and the fear from other people, but it’s hard to forget when he’s got you pinned against the wall, his cold hands tracing patterns on your neck to your sternum.

tonight, the howling wolves and bats accompany you through the windows of his hellish mansion. you've just gotten back from an outing with your girlfriends and told them some of the stories about your mysterious boyfriend. they laughed and teased you, not knowing the truth behind your words about the darkness that lurks within muzan kibutsuji.

you slip out of your shoes and enter the dimly lit mansion, the eerie silence, a stark contrast to the lively chatter of your friends. as you walk through the grand hallway, you can feel his presence, a chilling aura that sends shivers down your spine.

out of no where, you heard a deep, chilling voice. “enjoyed your evening?” his voice is a low rumble, sending a wave of anticipation through you. he steps out from the shadows, his piercing red eyes fixed on you.

he always does this to you. trying to scare you. you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “yes, my lord. i told them about you.”

“do you love teasing them with stories and tales of me? hmm?” he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. his lips brush your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

you smirk, tilting your head to give him better access. “they didn’t even believe me….but of course, I didn’t tell them the real truth”

his chuckle was dark, filled with the promise of what’s to come. “and what’s the truth, my dear?” he tightens his grip on your neck, eager to see what you think about him.

“that my boyfriend is not just the king of demons,” you whisper, your voice trembling with seduction. “but that you’re also the man which knows every inch of my body, every secret sexual desire that i have.”

his grip tightens on your neck, choking you. this eyes gleam with possession. “indeed,” he says, his voice a low growl. “and tonight, i’m going to remind you exactly why you belong to me.”

muzan’s lips crash against yours, demanding and fierce. his large tongue pushed its away pass your lips. his hands roam your body, tearing burning away any fabric that separates the both of you. each of touch is electric coming from his dominance that leaves you breathless.

“on the bed,” he orders, stepping back to watch you obey. “now. its time to teach you some manners.”

there’s always a thrill in the way he commands, a dark promise in this gaze that sends heat pooling in your core.

you move to the bed, shaking and with a face red as a cherry. your skin was flushed and tingling. muzan follows, his predatory gaze never leaving you. he climbs over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress with his hands pinning your wrists above your head.

“you’re mine,” he nibbled against your lips, his voice a seductive threat. “every inch of you, every breath, every moan. tonight, i’m going to take you for myself.”

his mouth trails down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. you arch into him while moaning his name out loud. his touch is both punishing and worshipful, a testament to his dark adoration.

muzan’s fingers find their way between your thighs, teasing and tormenting. you writhe beneath him, your need building to an unbreable peak. you’re so hot, so wet, so in need of him.

“tell me,” he demands, his voice a low growl. “tell me who you belong to. who owns you.”

“you,” you gasp, your voice breaking . “i-i belong to you, demon lord muzan.”

a satisfied smirk curls his lips as he finally gives you what you crave. the pleasure is intense, overwhelming, each thrust a reminder of his power over you. you cling to him, lost in the storm of sensation, your body and soul completely at his mercy.

he turns you on your tummy and teases the hole from your behind. at first, the pleasure gave you aches and cries from your mouth. but muzan came prepared, he used plenty of lube on his cock before inching into you.

“a-ah..m-muzan….” you whimpered, clinging hard onto the bedsheets with your fingernails.

muzan’s thrusts start slow, at a deliberate pace, each movement and pump calculated to make you aware of his control over your body. different from what you’ve ever felt while your moans and cries fill the room, mingling along with the sound of the night life outside.

“you’re mine,” he growls with his pace quickening. “every part of you, every sound you make��belongs to me.”

you can only nod and whimper in response, the intensity of his possesion overwhelming your senses. each thrust makes your body arch and tremble, only wanting more in return.

muzan’s hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he drives himself deeper into you.

“m-muzan, p-ple-“ he cuts you off with a sharp spank to your ass.

“now, what did i say you should call me, slut…” he growls, his eyes as red as fire. “so eager, so needy for me. tell me what you want, in the proper way we discussed.” he clenched your asscheeks in his hand, the grip undyingly painful.

“my lord…please…have mercy on me, all of me is for you…” you spoke timidly as you choked on your tears, struggling to speak.

his smirk was his trump hand, his eyes burning with dark satisfaction. “good, good…because you will always be mine, my little pet,” he says in a velvet purr.

“y-yes,” you managed to squeak again, your voice in a broken plea. “i love it, master. i love being yours, and only yours to please.”

“such a good little slut,” he growls, his pace relentless. “so obedient, so perfect for me.”

your whimpers and moans were music to his ears, each sound driving him to take you harder, deeper. the bed creaks beneath the force of his movements, his dominance overwhelming you completely, just like you like it.

“tell me again, lil slut,” he demands, his voice rough with desire. he was reaching his edge soon, you could bet, his disheveled hair and fangs showing clearly from the side of his mouth. “who do you belong to?”

you gasp, barely able to form words through the haze of pleasure and pain. “you, my lord,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling. “i belong to you, always. past, present and future..”

a satisfied growl rumbles from his chest, his grip tightening on your hips. “that’s right,” he says, his tone a mix of dominance and dark affection. “tell everyone you’re mine, forever!”

muzan’s thrust grow more powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you. you cling onto his muscular arms with your sharp manicured nails. haha, pain? what was that to him? all while your body was a trembling, quivering mess beneath him.

“may the demon world be blessed with our newborn…” he proclaims while giving you a final intense thrust, driving you over the edge. your climax crashes through you as you were cry out his name in ecstasy.

muzan growls deeply as he spills his seed inside of you, claiming you as his completely. he holds you close, his grip unyielding and his breath mingling with yours. at his final thrust, he spills his seed inside you, the warmth of it flooding your core. you feel every pulse, every shudder of his release (including your own). the sensation was intimate and engulfed you. his cum filled you completely, head to toe. it was his primal way of marking you as his. a reminder of his dominance and possession.

“you are mine,” he whispers, his voice a comforting and deep. “now and forever.”

you nod weakly as you watch him get up and grab a washcloth to clean you up. in this moment, you feel utterly complete, bound by a dark, unbreakable bond. his touch was surprisingly gentle as he cleans you, unlike how forceful he was a minute ago.

“rest now, my pet,” he murmurs, his voice a low, a sensual smoothing rumble. “you’ve pleased me greatly tonight.”

you lie back, exhausted, your body still trembling, shaking from the intense experience he gave you. muzan joins you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body was a polar opposite of the coldness of his aura.

“remember,” he reminds you in a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear. “i’m yours, and you’re mine, forever.”

muzan’s fingers fondled your breasts, tracing intricate patterns on your nipples with his sharp teeth, but not hard enough to pierce through your flesh. his presence was a dark but protective shield around you. despite the fear and scare most people might feel, there was a strange comfort.

as you drift off to sleep, the sound of the night outside fade away, leaving only the steady rhythm of muzan’s breathing and the beat of his heart against your back. surely, it was a twisted world out there, but with muzan you found peace.

I’m trash I feel that I have sold my soul to this guy

[storyscribeforthesentiment]

the detective & the dark knight | chapter 5

Summary: Detective Marie Manning, investigating a series of brutal murders in Gotham, crosses paths with the mysterious Batman. As they work together, their mutual respect turns into a deep, passionate bond. Amidst danger and corruption, their unlikely partnership evolves into a profound love, forever changing their lives in Gotham’s dark corners.

Pairing: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f!main character

Author’s note: Enjoy lots of good ole’ fluff + emo Bruce falling head over heels for Marie.

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings/tags: mentions of gun violence, police bribes, fighting

Chapter List

The Gotham skyline stretched out like a sprawling maze of steel and shadows. Batman stood on a rooftop, his cape flowing in the crisp night air, his gaze fixed on the city below. The search for leads on the Red Lotus case had turned cold, leaving him restless. The recent confrontation with Marie had left an awkward tension between them that they hadn’t addressed.

Marie, meanwhile, stood beside the bat-signal, her breath misting in the chill as she stared at the beacon’s light. Despite their recent clash, she knew she needed Batman tonight. Her shift in focus had led her to a new line of inquiry, and the Iceberg Lounge was the epicenter of tonight's investigation.

It was a seedy place, notorious for its dangerous clientele, and it was the kind of place that was unforgiving to anyone, let alone a cop. She had learned her lesson from her previous misadventure, and she wasn't about to walk into another trap unprepared.

A shadow detached itself from the darkness and landed beside her. Batman’s imposing figure was outlined against the city lights as he approached. Marie turned to him, trying to hide the nerves she felt.

“Thanks for coming,” Marie said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a flicker of apprehension. “I’m heading into the Iceberg Lounge. I’m looking for Oswald Cobblepot. This place isn’t exactly friendly to cops, so I could use some backup.”

Batman’s gaze, obscured by the cowl, bore into her with a mix of curiosity and concern. “You need my help?”

Marie’s lips curved into a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m hoping to avoid another lecture. Remember last time?”

A ghost of a smile touched Batman’s lips, a rare, almost imperceptible hint of amusement. “I’ll do my best to keep my comments to myself.”

Marie’s eyebrow arched, her tone light but tinged with underlying tension. “All business tonight, huh?”

Batman’s voice was a low, rumbling growl. “If it means keeping you safe, then yes.”

Marie’s gaze softened, her eyes lingering on him as he stood next to the bat-signal. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Let’s hope tonight doesn’t turn into another mess.”

Batman nodded, his expression unreadable. “I’ll find a spot near the building to keep an eye on you. Use the earpiece if you need anything.” He said, tossing her a small piece of hardware.

With that, Batman melded back into the shadows, his form disappearing as he moved swiftly and silently across the rooftops. Marie watched him go, feeling the weight of their recent tension but also a flicker of reassurance.

Marie turned and made her way down the stairwell to the street. The chill of the night air hit her as she emerged, and she headed towards the Iceberg Lounge. The nightclub’s entrance loomed ahead, its heavy, ornate doors hinting at the chaos within.

As she approached, Marie’s attention was drawn to a group of shady figures lurking near the alleyway. Their eyes followed her with an unsettling intensity. Marie’s hand instinctively reached for her weapon as she passed the entrance.

"Be careful, looks like you're not alone out there." Batman's voice rang through the earpiece. Marie looked out into the darkness of the night, briefly nodding in response.

Inside, the Iceberg Lounge was a labyrinth of dim lighting and smoky haze. Marie’s gaze swept over the crowd, searching for Cobblepot. The music was loud, and the atmosphere was tense, with patrons watching her every move.

Marie finally spotted Oswald Cobblepot in a private booth, engaged in a heated conversation with two men. She approached cautiously, her heart pounding with a blend of anticipation and apprehension.

“Mr. Cobblepot,” she said loudly over the music, “I’m Detective Marie Manning. I need to speak with you about some recent investigations.”

Cobblepot looked up, his beady eyes assessing her with disdain. “A cop, huh? You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve showing up here.”

Marie’s tone was resolute. “I’m here for information. I know you’ve got answers about Falcone. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Cobblepot’s sneer widened, but he motioned for her to come closer. “Fine. Let’s talk. But not here. Too many ears.”

Marie followed Oswald Cobblepot to a more secluded area of the Iceberg Lounge, noticing his walk that looked more like a waddle. The dimly lit corner offered a modicum of privacy, though the lounge’s usual raucous atmosphere still hummed in the background. Marie cast a wary glance around, then focused on Cobblepot.

“Mr. Cobblepot,” she began, her tone firm yet measured, “I need to talk to you about the Red Lotus murders. I believe you might have some information that could help with the investigation.”

Cobblepot's lips curled into a smirk as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing with interest. “The Red Lotus, huh? That’s quite a mess. You think I’d be involved in something like that?”

Marie’s gaze was steady. “I’m not accusing you. I just need to know if you’ve heard anything—anything at all—that could point me in the right direction.”

Cobblepot chuckled darkly, his fingers drumming on the table. “Well, since you’re asking so nicely... I have heard whispers. There’s a certain element in Gotham that’s been trying to leverage the chaos caused by the Red Lotus murders. Some say they’re using it to cover their tracks or settle old scores.”

Marie’s eyes sharpened. “Who are they?”

Cobblepot leaned in, lowering his voice. “The whispers mention someone who’s been moving in and out of the city’s underbelly. They say this person has connections with some very powerful players. But who exactly? That’s the million-dollar question. I might be able to dig up more details if you’re willing to scratch my back a bit.”

Before Marie could respond, a loud crash erupted from the entrance of the lounge. The front door flew open, and a group of masked men burst in, their weapons gleaming under the neon lights. The patrons screamed and scrambled for cover, the room erupting into chaos.

Marie instinctively reached for her weapon, her heart racing as she took in the situation. Cobblepot’s face went pale, and he ducked behind the table, clearly terrified.

“Batman,” Marie said into her earpiece, her voice tight with urgency. “We’ve got an armed group attacking the lounge.”

Batman’s voice crackled through the earpiece, calm and commanding. “On my way. Stay safe and get out if it gets too dangerous.”

Marie quickly assessed the scene. The masked men were advancing with purpose, brandishing weapons and shouting orders. They seemed intent on clearing out the space.

She fought her way towards the nearest masked attacker, her movements precise and practiced. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of the situation. The lounge was a storm of flying debris, shouting patrons, and the smell of smoke.

Amidst the chaos, Batman made his dramatic entrance, his silhouette cutting through the melee with a swift, imposing presence. He immediately began to neutralize the attackers, his actions synchronized with Marie’s as they worked together to fend off the masked men.

“Stay back,” Batman growled as he shielded Marie from an incoming attack, his eyes darting between her and an oncoming masked attacker. 

Relying on her kickboxing skills, Marie managed to subdue one of the attackers. She glanced at Batman, who was now dispatching the last of the intruders. Cobblepot had vanished, his opportunity to escape amidst the chaos.

With the immediate threat dealt with, Batman turned to Marie, his voice laced with concern. “Are you alright?” His eyes scanned her up and down, looking for injuries.

Marie, breathing heavily, nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. But Cobblepot got away.”

“Then what are we waiting here for?” Batman asked, turning quickly and heading out the back of the club. Marie followed. 

Marie and Batman emerged from the Iceberg Lounge, their breath misting in the chilly night air. They scoured the nearby alley.

“Dammit, he’s gone,” Marie muttered, frustration evident in her voice. She scanned the long alley, but it was empty. “He’s slippery as hell.”

Batman’s gaze was intense, his voice low but firm. “He’s got to be hiding somewhere nearby. He’s not going to risk crossing Falcone.”

Marie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I bet he set up that raid to get rid of me.”

Batman glanced at her, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Marie nodded, trying to keep her frustration in check. “So what now? Do we just wait around hoping he shows up?”

Batman’s jaw tightened. “There’s a good chance he’s got a hideout or safehouse nearby. Knowing Cobblepot, he won’t be able to stay out of trouble for long.”

Marie leaned against the wall, shaking her head. “I don’t want this case dragging on forever. There haven’t been any new murders recently, which means the case is that much closer to going cold.”

Batman stepped closer, his voice softening slightly. “I know. We’ll figure this out. Cobblepot’s not the only player in this game, but he’s a start.”

Marie looked at him, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion in her eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate you sticking by me tonight, especially with everything that went down.”

Batman’s gaze was steady, his voice a low rumble. “Seems like you learned your lesson from last time." He hesitated, then added quietly, almost to himself, “You’ve made the nights a bit more bearable.”

Marie hesitated, then asked, “You think we’ll still be working together after the Red Lotus case is over? I’ve gotten used to having you around.”

His voice was gentle. “I’d like that”

Marie managed a small smile, her tone light. “Alright, let’s head out. I’ve got a date later, and I refuse to be late.”

Batman’s eyes met hers, “A date?”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Is it really that surprising that someone wants to date me?”

Batman’s expression shifted back to its usual intensity. "No, just didn't expect it."

Marie shrugged playfully as she started walking towards the precinct. “Well, I’m full of surprises.”

She called over her shoulder, “I’ll bat-signal you if I need you.”

When she looked back, Batman had already vanished into the shadows, leaving the alley empty and silent.

—-------------------------------

Later that evening, Bruce Wayne and Marie enjoyed a quiet dinner at an upscale restaurant. The soft lighting and soothing music created a serene atmosphere, a welcome change from their usual intense interactions.

Marie and Bruce had been on several dates recently, each one drawing them closer. Tonight, they were relaxed and at ease, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

Marie leaned in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You wouldn’t believe the run-in I had with Oswald Cobblepot tonight,” she began, her tone animated. “It was something straight out of a crime novel.”

Bruce’s interest was immediately piqued. “Really? I’ve heard he’s quite the character."

Marie's expression became one of amused disbelief. “Oh, he’s every bit as eccentric as they say. I approached him about the Red Lotus case, and he was waddling around like a penguin—no joke. The resemblance is uncanny.”

Bruce leaned in, clearly captivated, even though he’d already known what happened. “And what did he do?”

Marie grinned, clearly enjoying recounting the encounter. “At first, he was all about playing it cool, acting like he was just a regular businessman. But the moment I mentioned the Red Lotus, his demeanor shifted. He got this calculating look in his eye. It was like he was deciding how much he could get away with telling me.”

Bruce’s eyes widened with curiosity. “What did he say?”

Marie’s smile widened as she remembered. “He dropped hints like he had some crucial info but played it super coy. It was like he was getting off on the power trip of making me chase him. Frustrating as hell, but kinda fascinating, too.”

Bruce nodded, clearly engrossed. “Sounds like a challenging encounter. I’m sure dealing with someone like Cobblepot requires a unique set of skills.”

“It does. Every day’s a new battle, but I love it. There’s something addictive about putting the pieces together and outsmarting the criminals.” Marie responded. I know exactly what you mean, Bruce thought.

Marie continued, her eyes meeting his. “It’s nice to be able to laugh about it now. I’m really glad we can unwind like this.”

Bruce’s gaze softened, a look of genuine admiration in his eyes. “I really am. It’s great to have a break from the noise and just enjoy a night out.”

As the evening went on, they chatted about everything, from old college memories to recent news, their laughter mixing with the gentle background music. It felt easy and natural, a welcome change from their usual high-stress interactions.

As they finished up their dinner, Bruce gave Marie a playful grin. “So, how about I show you around Wayne Manor?” he suggested. “Don’t worry, no fancy galas or over-the-top millionaires this time. Just me—if you can put up with me for a few more hours.”

“I’d love that.” Marie smiled.

The drive to Wayne Manor was peaceful, the city lights casting a soft glow on the darkened streets. When they arrived at the manor, Bruce led her inside, his demeanor gentle and inviting.

“This place,” Marie said, looking around at the grandeur of Wayne Manor, “it’s even more breathtaking when it’s empty. There’s something calming about it.”

Bruce nodded, his eyes reflecting a touch of nostalgia. “This place has always been a sanctuary for me,” he said softly. “As a child, it was alive with laughter and energy. Now it’s quieter, but it still holds so many memories.”

“Feel free to look around,” he added, though his mind was already drifting to the Batcave below, where he needed to check in to make sure Gotham was calm for the night.

"I'll be right back." Bruce said, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

Marie moved through the rooms, her steps light and curious. She admired the grand architecture and the space, but one room particularly captivated her: a sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows and oversized paintings. She stopped in front of a portrait of Bruce’s parents, their faces warm and kind. Bruce looked so much like his father.

As she stood there, lost in thought and unsure how much time had passed, she suddenly felt Bruce’s presence behind her. His hand gently caressed her lower back.

“They were lovely,” Marie said softly.

“They were,” Bruce replied, his voice low, “I think about them often.”

They stood together in a comfortable silence. After a moment, she spoke again. “You know, I love what I do because it’s a way to make a difference—so others don’t have to go through what we did as kids.”

Bruce took a moment before responding, his gaze softening. “I’m impressed by that. It’s rare to find someone who gets it the way you do.”

Marie looked up, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You really think so?”

Bruce returned her smile, his eyes warm. “Definitely. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

As they stood in front of the painting, Marie leaned her head against Bruce’s chest, feeling a deep sense of contentment. The mansion’s tranquil atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bustling, noisy world they had navigated earlier.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Bruce murmured against her ear, his voice soft and sincere.

Marie lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. This place is incredible.”

He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly against her cheeks. Marie’s breath caught in her throat, and before she could react, Bruce’s lips met hers in a tender, exploratory kiss. It was a soft, lingering touch that spoke volumes.

Marie responded instinctively, her hands reaching up to rest on Bruce’s shoulders. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as the heat of their emotions took over. Bruce’s arms encircled her, pulling her closer. The outside world vanished, leaving just the two of them in this perfect, heated moment.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their faces flushed with the intensity of their emotions. Bruce’s eyes were filled with a mix of relief and longing. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted quietly.

Marie’s smile was radiant, her eyes reflecting a sense of joy and surprise. “I’m happy you did.”

Bruce chuckled softly, his gaze filled with affection.

Marie spoke up, “So, what’s next? Do we just stand here or...?”

Bruce’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “How about some ice cream? I’ve got a tub waiting in the kitchen.”

Marie’s eyes widened in playful excitement. “Ice cream sounds perfect.”

Grabbing her hand, Bruce excitedly led her to the large kitchen, where he retrieved a tub of ice cream from the freezer and grabbed two spoons. Marie perched herself on the counter, her legs swinging slightly as they dug into the ice cream.

Marie looked at him with a playful grin. “You know, I can practically feel this ice cream going straight to my hips.”

Bruce chuckled, leaning on his elbows over the counter beside her. “Your hips are magnificent.”

Marie laughed, playfully nudging him. “You’re just trying to flatter me to distract me from the extra calories.”

Bruce couldn’t help himself. He leaned in, his lips grazing hers in a tender kiss. Marie melted into the touch, the lingering sweetness of the ice cream mingling with the warmth of their embrace.

Their kisses grew deeper and more passionate, a perfect reflection of the emotions that had been building between them. Bruce’s hands gently traced the contours of Marie’s back, their connection intensifying as they lost themselves in each other. The ice cream tub sat forgotten, and began to melt as their attention shifted entirely to each other.

Just then, a soft rustling sound from outside the room interrupted their moment. Bruce’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and amusement. He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against Marie’s ear as he whispered with a playful grin, “That’s Alfred. My butler.”

Marie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she bit back a giggle. “Should we, um, move...?”

Before she could finish, the door to the kitchen creaked open. Alfred’s voice, filled with curiosity and mild surprise, floated into the room. “Master Bruce, I was just checking if you needed anything—oh!”

Alfred’s voice trailed off as he took in the sight before him: Bruce and Marie, entangled in each other’s arms with remnants of their ice cream adventure scattered around.

Bruce and Marie exchanged a sheepish glance. Bruce held up his ice cream spoon in a mock salute. “Just enjoying some late-night ice cream. Nothing to see here.”

Alfred’s expression softened into a knowing smile. “Ah, I see. Well, I hope you both are having a good time.”

Bruce turned to Marie, an affectionate smile on his face. “Alfred, this is my, uh, Marie,” he said, his tone uneven as he considered how to introduce her.

Alfred bowed his head slightly. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Marie. I trust the ice cream is to your liking?”

“It’s delicious, Alfred, thank you,” Marie smiled.

As Alfred’s footsteps receded, Bruce turned back to Marie, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and affection. “Well, that was a bit of an interruption,” he said with a chuckle.

Marie’s cheeks flushed as she buried her head into Bruce’s chest.

Bruce’s smile widened as he rubbed his hand over her hair. “I promise there won’t be any more surprises.”

—-------------------------------

Marie was half-asleep in Bruce’s expansive, beautifully decorated living room. They were nestled on the grand sectional in front of the crackling fireplace, the warmth from the flames creating a cozy cocoon around them. Bruce’s strong arms were wrapped around her, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath her ear.

After hours of talking—sharing stories of their childhoods, their aspirations, and their fears—Marie’s voice was soft and drowsy. “Can I tell you something about my job that I’m not supposed to tell anyone?”

Bruce’s gaze was gentle as he looked down at her. “Of course.”

Marie shifted slightly, her head resting comfortably on his chest. “If I tell you this, you have to promise to keep it a secret. I haven’t shared it with anyone before.”

Bruce’s fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. The warmth of his hand against her cheek could have sent her to sleep right then. “You can trust me.”

Marie took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are you familiar with the Batman?”

A pang of guilt twisted in Bruce’s chest. He was acutely aware of the deception—the fact that he had been keeping his dual identity a secret from her while she was currently opening up about her partnership with his alter ego. It felt like an unfair imbalance.

“Bruce?” Marie’s voice brought him back to the moment.

“Sorry, yes, I’m familiar. The guy in the—what is it—leather who beats up bad guys?” He tried to keep his tone light, but his mind was racing.

Marie chuckled softly. “It’s not leather. It’s Kevlar.” She paused, then added with a touch of excitement, “I’ve been working with him for the past few months. Remember that murder case I told you about? He’s been helping me with it. We work together almost every night.”

Marie’s voice was barely a whisper as she fought to stay awake. “He has access to all these resources—more than I can even guess. We don’t talk much about anything personal, just the case. He has all these gadgets that give him direct access to police logs, 911 calls... the whole deal.”

She paused, struggling to stay conscious. “I can tell he cares about me, even if he’s not great at showing it. He really doesn’t want me to get hurt. Honestly, he’s been the best part of my job. He makes a difference in this city.” The final part of her sentence came out with a yawn.

Bruce’s heart ached with the weight of his unspoken truth. He was on the edge of revealing everything—the burden of keeping his secret, the tangled emotions he felt for her—but he hesitated. As Marie’s breathing grew deeper, her head resting more heavily against his chest, Bruce struggled with the internal conflict of wanting to be honest with her yet fearing the consequences.

His gaze softened as he looked down at her peaceful face. As he gently ran his fingers through her hair, he longed to share the truth, to lift the weight from his shoulders. But the moment felt too delicate, too perfect to risk shattering. The words remained lodged in his throat, unspoken and heavy.

Marie’s soft, even breaths were the only sound now, and Bruce found solace in the simple intimacy of the moment. With a heavy heart, he decided against confessing, choosing instead to hold her close and savor the comfort of her presence. He resolved to carry the burden a little longer, hoping that one day he’d find the right moment to reveal the truth.

The night wore on in quiet companionship, the warmth of the fire and Marie’s presence offering a brief respite from the tangled web of secrets and emotions that Bruce grappled with.

[snapghoul]

How many of us get a second chance

(How many of us have to say Goodbye)

✰ Paring: Johnny Cage/Kenshi Takahashi [mk1 versions]

Johnny is faced with Kenshi’s dark double during the battle for the timeline.

✰ tags&notes: blood, injury, angst, hurt. Might be OOC because this is my first time writing a fic. No beta. Enjoy.

✰ Part [2] [3]

– ⭑ –

Johnny's heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to make sense of the madness surrounding him. His hand, slick with blood, was pressed firmly to his left hip, where a deep gash marred his armor, the crimson liquid seeping through the cracks like a sinister omen. He winced in pain, trying to ignore the throbbing agony that shot through his side with every movement. He couldn't remember how he had sustained such a grave wound; the clashing of timelines had blurred the lines between friend and foe, making it almost impossible to discern who was who in the heat of battle.

His eyes darted frantically, searching for any safety sign amidst the chaos. Every shadow seemed to conceal a potential threat, every movement a possible ambush. He knew he had to find a hidden spot, a momentary sanctuary where he could catch his breath and assess his injuries. With trembling legs, Johnny stumbled towards the remnants of the crumbling ancient structure, its stone weathered by time and battle. He collapsed behind one of the pillars, his back pressed against the rough surface as he tried to steady his breathing. The pain in his side intensified, a harsh reminder of the difficult situation he found himself in.

Johnny knew he couldn't fight like this, the wound slowing him down and tweaking his ability to land decisive blows. But he couldn’t just sit by as the people he had grown close to in the past months fought alone. He stood after catching his breath, gritting his teeth, and pushing back towards the chaotic battle mass.

However, a figure stopped him, sending a chill down his spine. The person looked precisely like Kenshi Takahashi, a close friend from his timeline, but there was something undeniably off about him. This doppelgänger wore a bright red grey suit that seemed to reflect the light around it and a dark grey dress shirt, a stark contrast against the grim backdrop of the battlefield. Dark sunglasses replaced the red blindfold that Johnny had given Kenshi after he was blinded.

Johnny's eyes widened in disbelief. "Kenshi?" he ventured cautiously, hoping that this was some sort of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by the stress of battle.

The dark double of Kenshi stood before Johnny, his head tilted down and his sword at the ready. His silence was eerie, and Johnny could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them. This Kenshi differed from the others Johnny had encountered from his timeline. There was a palpable sadness on his face, an anguish that Johnny had never seen on Kenshi. Johnny's confusion deepened. He had expected an immediate attack, a ruthless assault like the others he had faced. Instead, this dark double seemed hesitant, almost reluctant to engage in combat. Johnny swayed slightly in his fighting stance, his hip throbbing in pain at his movements, but prepared himself for any sudden movements.

"Why aren't you attacking?" Johnny demanded, his voice laced with a mixture of confusion and frustration. His fists shook from exhaustion, fighting his body to keep them up.

The dark double of Kenshi hesitated, his typically cold demeanor flickering with a hint of emotion. It was a momentary crack in his composed facade, a glimpse into the pain that lurked beneath the surface. "I can't," he admitted, his voice low and strained. "I can't bring myself to harm you, Johnny."

Johnny's confusion deepened as he observed the struggle within this twisted version of his friend. This hesitation was an anomaly in the midst of battle, where bloodlust and rage often ruled.

"How do you know me?" Johnny asked, his voice full of caution; one hand dropped to staunch the blood oozing from his hip. This Kenshi was as much of an enigma as his. "And why are you hesitating? You're not the first twisted prick i’ve taken down today."

"You were always good at cutting through the crap," he said, his voice laced with bitterness and admiration. "I miss that."

Johnny's brow furrowed in confusion. "Miss what?"

"The way you face danger," the dark double replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "with courage, unshakable confidence. The way you make everyone around you believe that no matter how dire things get, we can still win. But I lost that belief a long time ago."

Johnny's heart sank as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The way this Kenshi spoke about him, the love in his eyes, the pain he carried—it was all because they had been more than just friends in his timeline. They had been lovers, soulmates, partners in life and battle. But the absence of that Johnny was painfully evident in the dark double's words.

"Look, I'm not the same person you knew," Johnny said, his voice softer now, carrying a tinge of vulnerability.

The dark double scoffed, his heart heavy with the pain of facing his dead lover, realizing that this Johnny was nothing like the one he had loved. He raised his sword, sento flaring with its blue spiritual energy.

"No, you are not. You're nothing like him," the dark double hissed, shaking his head. He had snapped himself out of the haze of emotion, reminding himself that this man was not his Johnny and never would be.

At that moment, the reality of their situation crashed down on them like a tidal wave. The battlefield continued to rage around them, the clash of forces threatening to consume them both. Johnny's eyes met those of the dark double of Kenshi, and in that shared gaze, they understood the bitter truth. Fate had dealt them a cruel hand, forcing them into roles they never wanted to play.

The dark double widened his legs into an offensive stance, sento aligned back to strike. The air was tense as they stood locked in a silent battle of wills. It was a moment suspended in time, where the weight of their choices bore down on them, threatening to drown them in despair.

Despite the pain and confusion, Johnny squared his shoulders, determination burning bright in his eyes. "I won't let you hurt anyone else," he declared, his voice unwavering.

[blueysobssesions]

- Shadows in the snow -

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ~ While having fun at BSAA headquarters. Little did you know, a shadow lurked in the snow-covered night, slowly making its way to the heart of the celebration.

~ Albert Wesker x reader

The BSAA Christmas bash was in full swing, and I found myself engrossed in a spirited chat with Leon, swapping stories and laughs to soak in the festive vibes. The room buzzed with joy, but little did we know, the night was about to take a dark twist.

"So, Leon, did you hear the one about Chris trying to convince everyone that reindeer were some fancy B.O.W.?" I teased, earning a chuckle from the man himself.

"That's classic Chris," Leon grinned. "I can totally picture him doing that."

As we bantered away, the door crashed open dramatically, stealing everyone's attention. Enter Albert Wesker, the unexpected guest who cast an ominous shadow over our jolly gathering. The room fell silent, and a frosty air replaced the holiday warmth as Wesker's piercing gaze zeroed in on me.

"I hope I'm not interrupting the festivities," Wesker drawled, his voice slicing through the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Chris, Jill, Carlos, Rebecca, and Claire exchanged puzzled glances, ready for action. I shot a worried look at Leon as Wesker approached, that sly grin of his refusing to fade.

"What's he doing here?" Chris muttered, hand hovering over his sidearm.

Before anyone could react, Wesker addressed the room. "Ah, the illustrious BSAA gathering. How quaint. I trust you're all enjoying your little holiday celebration."

The room tensed as Wesker's gaze lingered on me. "My dear, I couldn't resist the opportunity to witness the festivities. And, of course, to extend a special invitation."

A murmur swept through the group as Wesker extended a gloved hand toward me, a dark invitation to join him. Uncertainty hung thick in the air.

Chris stepped forward, unwavering. "What's the game, Wesker? We're not falling for your tricks."

Wesker chuckled, acknowledging Chris's skepticism. "No games, Chris. Just a dance. I thought it would be a fitting way to catch up, don't you think?"

Chris stepped forward, stern. "A dance? What's your game?"

Wesker glanced at the gun pointed at him. "No game, Chris. I've come to extend an invitation, and the choice lies with our dear friend here." He gestured toward me.

"You don't need to crash a Christmas party to see me, Wesker!" I declared, my voice firm.

Wesker's grin widened. "Drama adds excitement to Christmas, my dear. What's the holiday without a bit of thrill?"

Leon's grip tightened, the room pulsating with tension. I chose a moment of silence before questioning, "What if... I don't?"

Wesker's demeanor shifted. "You think you have a choice? You underestimate the gravity of the situation."

Comrades stepped back, wary. Chris warned, "Whatever game you're playing won't end well."

Ignoring the warning, Wesker conjured Uroboros tendrils, darkness enveloping the room. Panic set in as the once-festive party transformed into a stage for confrontation.

"I offered a dance, and you dare refuse?" Wesker's possessiveness chilled the air. "Perhaps a taste of Uroboros will change your mind."

Tendrils twisted, panic spread, and Chris prepared for a fight. But Jill intervened, "Enough, Wesker. You won't use Uroboros on innocent people. We won't let you."

Frustration flickered in Wesker's eyes. The room held its breath, uncertainty thickening the air. The choice was mine—defy Wesker and face Uroboros or find a way to prevent further catastrophe on this once-festive Christmas Eve.

⤹ - Bluey here! Thank you for reading this completely >.<

➜ ┊: ( masterlist ) ᵎ ✰

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Invisible String (CATWS Version)

"Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs, were there clues I didn't see?"

a.n. Okay, so I feel like this needs a little bit of a preface. So, when I was writing The Twin Flame, there I found I ended up writing a lot of flashback scenes. And while there's a good bit that made it into the story, there was also a lot that didn't and that was for a lot of reasons, length of chapter, relevance, ect., but I do think it adds a lot to the story and I would love to share that with you guys. So instead of the outtakes that I did at the end of TSOTSC, I wanted to compile the copious amounts of flashbacks, both included and not, into one long (chronological) timeline. For clarity's sake, I did divide them up into their respective movie, I hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"Sam, I'm home!" you bellow. There is no call back. There's no sound at all. He knows you hate the quiet. It reminds you of before. Sam makes it a point to fill the house with noise in any way he can for that simple reason. The silence radiates through your bones, chilling you to the core. "Sam? You here?"

You walk through the house, hands crumpled into half hearted fists, ready to fight, ready for whatever lurks around the corner.

It isn't until you make it to the kitchen that you see Sam sitting at the table. His jaw tight, his hands folded together, propping his head up.

"Sam?"

His eyes flash over to you, sitting up straight in his chair. He clears his throat, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry - I - I -"

"What's wrong?" You step towards him, reaching for his arm and giving it a tight squeeze. He rests his hand on top of yours, laying it heavy on you. Almost like it's you he's trying to comfort and not the other way around. "Sam?"

More silence fills the room.

"Sam? Is everything okay? You're kinda scaring me."

He opens his mouth. His lips gape open for a long moment before he can form the words. "Nick Fury is dead."

You suddenly realize why his hand is so heavy on yours. It's the only thing keeping you from reeling back onto the ground. The words hit you like a truck.

"What?" you squeak.

He stands up, reaching out to steady you. As he guides you into a chair, "I just got the call."

"How did it happen?" you rasp out. 

"He was killed."

An unfamiliar feeling swells in your chest. You were too new to this world to know this feeling. To have felt the rage burning in your ribcage. To know what the anger roiling in your veins felt like. To know how to fend it off.

He's dead.

Your protector. Your savior. The closest thing you had to a father.

He's gone.

You barely manage to ground out, "Who?"

Sam's eyes snap over to you. He's never heard that tone, that darkness seep into your words. "Listen, I know -"

You cut off Sam's attempt at talking you down. "Who killed him?"

"They think it was someone called The Winter Soldier, but they don't even know -"

Your chest heaves in anger, anger at the person who took away one of the most important people in your life. "Did they catch him? The Winter Solider?"

"No, not yet, but -"

"Then I'll find him myself."

-

It was already 2 in the morning. Missions were becoming more frequent, more grueling, and it was starting to weigh on you. Your legs felt like they were made of lead as you stumbled into your room to get some sleep before your next assignment first thing in the morning. 

'Tough mission?" a familiar voice asks. 

The lights flicker on to reveal Nick Fury standing in the corner of your room. Until this very moment, you believed him to be dead. In shock, your bag slips from your grip, hitting the floor with a muted thud. 

"You're alive," you gasp, abruptly throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace. "I thought you were dead. They said you died, Sam said-"

"It's going to take a hell of a lot more than a Winter Soldier to kill me," he chuckles, returning the embrace for the shortest of movements. 

You pull away from him, looking at him as he stands in the corner of your room in the dead of night. "I'm just so glad you're alive, Nick."

"It's not that simple," he corrects. "And that's why I need you to be careful."

Your sigh of relief catches in your throat. "What?"

"Nick Fury is dead," he ominously states. There's no remorse in his voice until he speaks his next sentence, "And that means I can't protect you anymore."

"From who?"

"From SHIELD."

"SHIELD? SHIELD saved me. You saved me, why do I need to be protected from them?"

"I know you've noticed that things are different, strange. Now that I'm gone, the vultures are going to circle. People are going to try to get close, try to win your trust. Go with your gut, it's never wrong."

"What are you talking about? I'm literally wrong all the time!"

"Not about this. Have some faith in yourself, I know I do."

-

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us."

Sam freezes, completely startled by the appearance of Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff from his backyard. He recovers a split second later, opening the door to allow them inside. "Uh, come on in."

"Thank you."

He points to the bedroom off to the side. "You guys can get cleaned up in here."

"Thank you," Steve repeats. 

Sam nods, giving the two of them a minute to regroup themselves. He walks to the kitchen, checking the front door to make sure you haven't come back yet. He takes a deep breath, wondering how exactly he's going to tell you that Captain America and Black Widow are currently seeking refuge in your shared home. 

Only about an hour later, you walk into the house, heading straight for the kitchen to find yourself something to eat after a grueling mission. You walk into the kitchen, picking up an apple from the fruit basket on the counter. You're bogged down by exhaustion, almost completely oblivious to the two unfamiliar people seated in your kitchen. 

"Hey," you nod at the unfamiliar man seated at the kitchen table. You keep walking when only a few seconds your mind processes that there are two unfamiliar people sitting in your kitchen. Your eyes widen, taking a few steps back into the kitchen. "Um?"

Steve stands up off of his seat. You can tell his guard flies back up just from the demanding look on his face, "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who are you?" you repeat.

"I asked you first."

"Well," you start, fumbling for an adequate rebuttal. "I've - I've got a frying pan. And I'm not afraid to use it!" But the frying pan isn't what stops Steve in his tracks, it's the fact that the frying pan just whipped across the kitchen right into your hand. "What the-"

"Sam!" you call. "Code - ugh, why don't we have a code for these things!?"

"You know Sam?"

"Yeah, you weirdo!" you incredulously shout. "I live here!"

"You live here?" Steve dumbly repeats. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sam interjects, walking into the kitchen with wide eyes. "I guess now might be the time to tell you I don't live alone."

"Clearly," Steve lilts. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"Oh, right. This is Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, they needed a place to lay low for a while," Sam introduces, gesturing to each person respectively. Then Sam turns to the two of them, introducing you by your first name, "And this is what I meant when I told you that I'm sort of SHIELD adjacent."

"They're not spies?" you ask Sam.

"They're not spies," he affirms. "Now, can you please put the frying pan down?"

"Right," you meekly chuckle, putting the pan back on the counter. 

"I'm confused," Steve states, his brows furrowed at you. "What does that mean? SHIELD adjacent? You work for SHIELD?"

"Not voluntarily," you chuckle. "But sure, let's go with that."

"Well, if you work for SHIELD, why have I never seen you before?"

"Because Nick Fury did a damn good job," Natasha responds, an impressed smirk growing on her face. "I was beginning to think you weren't real."

"You know about me?"

"I know enough. Enough to know why Nick Fury wanted to keep you hidden."

"You knew Nick Fury?" Steve silently nods, giving you a moment before you continue speaking, "Nick Fury rescued me. It's why I'm a SHIELD asset."

"Agent," Steve corrects. 

You quietly chuckle, "Asset. Not agent. I don't work for them, they own me. Sam's my handler."

"They own you?"

"But enough about me," you excitedly redirect. "Steve Rogers? Why do I know that name?"

-

You needed to buy them more time. You needed to do that for them. Sam begged you, pleaded with you. With Fury's warning and Steve and Natasha's appearance in your house, it was too dangerous. They could very well be onto you two. 

"I have to go," you announce to Sam, picking your repacked duffle bag up off the ground. 

"There's no way you're going!" Sam vehemently refutes. "First, you just got back, you're exhausted and you're not thinking straight. Second, we're sort of harboring fugitives in our house. It's a recipe for disaster."

"They'll know something's up if I don't go," you remind Sam.

"Tell them you're exhausted. You haven't even been back a whole day and they can't just send you on another assignment, it's too dangerous."

"You and I both know they can do whatever they want to me."

"You can't go. It could be dangerous. We don't know what they know," Sam desperately insists. 

"They don't know that we know about them either," you counter. "I promise I'll be careful. The longer Pierce thinks we're still with him, the more time you guys have to take them down."

Sam shuts his eyes, shaking his head, "I really hate that that makes sense."

"I'll be okay," you promise. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay."

With that, you take off, leaving Sam, Steve, and Natasha to make their plans.

You don't even remember making your way to SHIELD headquarters, all you knew is that you'd never felt dread quite like the one pooling in the pit of your stomach as the building looms over you.

You stare up at the building, steeling your resolve. You had to do this for them.

With a shaky inhale, you walk into a building that you knew so well. 

On this day, it feels like you've never been here before. There's no sense of familiarity. There's no ease in any of your actions. 

Before you can make your way to your locker or to get your mission brief, you see Rumlow expectantly standing at the lobby. His arms crossed over his chest and a cold expression, he scans the lobby, clearly waiting for someone.

The moment you step out of the revolving door, you know he's not just waiting for someone, he's waiting for you. 

His eyes snap over in your direction, he strides over, "Pierce wants to see you."

"Oh..." you manage to choke out, shocked by the abruptness of the order. 

"Problem?" he challenges.

"No, no," you quickly assure Rumlow. "Just had something - no, no problem."

"Good. He's waiting."

You weakly smile up at him, "Great."

You try to appear unaffected by Rumlow's suffocating presence. You try to make small talk, offer a kind smile that you know doesn't look even remotely genuine.

You can feel a sense of impending down creep up your spine. There was nothing normal about this.

Pierce liked to maintain a facade of warmth with you, he never summoned you. He'd invite you to the conference room, meet you in the briefing room. Never this.

By the time you're shoved into Pierce's office, the one formerly belonging to Nick Fury, your hands have gone cold with dread.

"What do you know about Captain Steve Rogers?" Pierce questions the moment you stand before his desk, wasting no time with fake niceties.

"Captain Rogers?" you repeat, pulling your lips in as you shake your head. As Pierce stares you down, it feels like he can hear every single one of your racing thought. You try not to think about the fact that Steve is currently sitting in your kitchen plotting HYDRA's demise. "Only by name."

Pierce purses his lips, scanning your face for the lie you're so desperately concealing, "That's good to know."

"Okay," you awkwardly lilt, clapping your hands in front of you. "Well, I think it's time for me to go. I wouldn't want to waste your time and I have a logistics meeting."

"Speaking of logistics," Pierce interjects. "I think it's time we reconsider a few of your own logistics. Your living arrangements in particular."

"What?" you humorlessly chuckle. You look over you shoulder to see Brock Rumlow still standing in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. "What are you talking about?"

"We didn't want to frighten you, but we believe there's been a breach of security within the organization. We think it best that you stay here."

"But Nick said-"

"Nick isn't here anymore," Pierce bitterly reminds you. "Steve Rogers made sure of that."

You bite back your defense of Steve. Your mind races, millions of pieces coming together to form a bone-chilling conclusion.

First, Nick Fury's last words to you. Stick to your gut, put your faith in the people you knew that you could trust without a shadow of a doubt.

Second, you knew you could trust Sam and Steve with your life.

Third, Pierce was the one keeping your schedule so jam-packed you could barely sleep let alone try to talk to Sam. He was the one driving the wedge between the person you trusted most. You knew you couldn't trust him.

What was so bone chilling was the look on everyone's face in the room. just about a dozen men, watching you, all armed and poised to attack. There were probably more outside.

You can't help but wonder how deep this whole thing ran. How many of your friends and colleagues would take you down if you stepped a toe out of line.

You were in the lion's den.

And you had two choices: fight or play along.

You lift your head to look at Pierce with a concerned, fear-filled look. "You're right. I don't know - I guess I never noticed."

"And how could you? It's our job to protect our Assets. We'll make sure you're safe."

"Thank you," you slowly exhale, lowering your head in submission at Pierce.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this of you right now, but it's imperative that we sort out everyone's allegiance, including Sam Wilson. It pains me to say this, but we believe, knowingly or unknowingly, he's leaked top-secret state secrets. He's told people about you, and that puts you in danger."

It's not much of a performance to put on a horrified look on your face. You were horrified, just not at Sam, "Oh my God."

"It's alright," Pierce assures you. "We just ask that you continue on, as normally as possible."

"But you just said-"

"We'll take precautions for your own safety, but you're our best hope of maintaining connections with Sam Wilson."

"You want me to spy on Sam?" you repeat, trying to suppress the look of repulsion that involuntarily forms on your face.

"I hate to impose such a heavy task on someone such as yourself, but it's imperative. Nick Fury believed in you, as do I."

You nod once. "I understand."

You'd never considered yourself that good of a liar. But you almost sighed a breath of relief as Pierce bought innocent, doe-eyed lie that spilled out of your mouth.

Thoughts kept racing in your mind. You focused on what you'd do the second you left this room. There was a side exit just down the corridor from your room. You could leave, hide. Warn Sam, warn Steve and you'd run. As fast as you can. As far as you can. 

"Rumlow will escort you back to your room," Pierce directs. Your blood runs cold when your escape plans are torn to shreds. Rumlow suddenly grips your bicep, prepared to drag you to your new room. "Can never be too careful."

"I - I appreciate it."

"But one more thing?" Pierce asks before Rumlow escorts you out. You turn back to him with a tight smile. He turns his head to one side with a smirk that can only be called sinister. "You're a terrible liar."

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. "Excuse me?"

"I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me everything you know," Pierce plainly offers, leaning over his desk to glare at you.

You look around the room once more. Now, the guns aren't slung low on the waists of Pierce's henchmen, but aimed directly at you. You grit your teeth and curl your hands into fists, "It's like you said, I don't know anything."

"Wrong answer," Pierce spits. His gaze shifts to Rumlow, whose guiding hand has turned into a death grip on your upper arm, as he barks an order, "Get what you can out of her...Then wipe her."

-

"Rumlow's headed for the Council," Maria Hill shouts into her comms device. "41st floor, Sam."

"I'm on it," Sam grunts, sprinting up the staircase of SHIELD headquarters. He flies through the doorway, throwing a fist right into Brock Rumlow's jaw without a second thought. "Where is she?" 

Sam goes for another quick jab, only for it to be deflected. With a strong lunge that knocks Sam off his feet, Rumlow chuckles, "Doesn't matter anymore. You're too late."

"What did you do to her?" Sam seethes, his anger and worry only compounding with every single minute of radio silence since you'd walked into SHEILD headquarters and never walked out.

"She just wouldn't shut up," Rumlow taunts, rolling his eyes. "She told us that she'd never stop fighting us, that her friends were coming, something about justice, I wasn't really listening, she just wouldn't stop talking... so we threw her brain in the blender. She doesn't even know who you are anymore."

A pained gasp leaves Sam's mouth. It feels like his lungs were being squeezed of all oxygen, "You're lying."

"You never should've let her walk into that meeting with Pierce, she walked right into his trap, you know?"

"Shut the hell up," Sam bellows, tackling the man into the glass control panel behind him. He pins Rumlow, "Tell me where she is."

"I was there, you know?"

"Tell me where she is!" Sam demands. 

"HYDRA doesn't take prisoners, Wilson. We only accept order. And order only comes with pain." Rumlow slips out of Sam's grasp, landing several punches into Sam's sides. Rumlow menacingly snickers, wiping the blood pooling from the corner of his mouth as the two of them stand up. "You should feel so honored. She respected the hell out of you, swore up until the very end that you were coming for her."

"She got all weepy." Rumlow punctuates every antagonizing sentence with a sharp punch. "She screamed for you. Cried when we strapped her down. But you never came."

"I said shut the-" Sam starts, only stopping when he sees the large air carrier about to crash into the building.  

"Son of a bitch," Rumlow shouts as the rubble consumes him. 

"Please tell me you got that chopper in the air," Sam calls over the comms. 

"Sam, where are you?"

"41st floor! Northwest corner!"

"We're on it. Stay where you are."

"Not really an option," he shouts as the aircraft crashes into the building. He bolts to the very edge of the building, dodging debris as it all comes crashing down around him. "Any time would be good."

"You trust us?" Maria ominously replies. 

"Do I have any other choice?" Sam shouts as he leaps out of the broken window just in the nick of time. 

"And gotcha," you exclaim, gripping Sam's hand as he almost barrels out of the helicopter. You pull him back up as Nick levels the helicopter. "Hey, Sam!"

Sam wheezes as you haul him into the helicopter. "You know who I am?"

You chuckle, "It's only been like a day, Sam."

"They said - but they said," Sam sputters. 

"I dunno what they said, and I hate to be so negative, but I don't think they care that much about honesty, Sam." 

He throws his arms around you, relief overwhelming him. "You're okay."

"I'm not the one that just jumped out of a window," you tease, dusting broken shards of glass off of his shoulder. 

He whispers, holding you tightly in his embrace. "They said you forgot me."

"I could never forget you."

-

"You don't have to do this," Steve tells Sam. "I know with Nick and SHIELD gone things just got a lot more complicated."

"I know," Sam agrees. "When do we start?"

"What about you, Sunshine?" Steve asks, though he knows that you and Sam weren't really going to risk separating yourself any time soon. "I wouldn't blame you, if you wanted nothing to do with this. I know what Bucky did. And I know how much Nick meant to you. Even if he is alive, I know it changed everything."

His question catches you off guard. You can't remember the last time someone asked you what you wanted.

"I know how much Bucky means to you. And you mean a lot to me too, Steve." You exaggeratedly shrug. "Plus, it's not like I've got anything better to do. So let's go get your friend back."

Steve wraps an arm around you, giving you a light squeeze as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "Thank you, Sunshine."

You wrinkle your nose up at him, "But I still don't like that nickname."

He smiles down at you, "You mean a lot to me too."

The Twin Flame Chapter List The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe Bucky Barnes Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[trashlama]

FUTURE RISE!LEO X READER

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Heyyyy-oooo it's me your guys favorite friendly pervy neighborhood consumer! Back with some more fics!

Yeaahh

Oh yeah I can totally sense your guys' excitement.

So this idea wasn't mine. I was lurking through the ROTTMNT fandom since recently I was too busy being dragged down the Record of Ragnarok fandom pit. It's like Hetalia all over again.

Anyways— I was lurking and came across one of my favorite creators ( @yanteetle ) that got a request for a fic. And like the idea was too good not to write a one-shot for it.

Like there was already a fic for it out there but, I thought I'd try my hand.

I really enjoyed writing this, I'll probably do another part except with the second idea with young Leo being little brother blocked by Casey Jr. cause Casey knows how Leo is with his future relationship with (y/n).

And maybe another one that has a different take on the first idea. But with a ✨ Age Gap✨. Cause man do I love myself a DILF.

Like brah there is no way you can't tell me future Leo isn't a DILF.

Anyways—

Enjoy the fic!

PICTURE NOT MINE! FOUND IT ON PINTEREST AND FELT LIKE IT WAS PERFECT-O

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Rushing water flooded the ancient channels that you were trudging through. The bottoms of your cargo pants were drenched despite being tucked into the openings of your pleather boots. Frigid rosey digits clung to the insides of the pockets to your cobalt colored coat. A shiver shot down your spine. Not from the chill of the down pour above you but rather, the ghost that didn't seem to want to leave you alone. Even now you were quite sure. Somewhere amongst the ruins of New York's sewer system, he was lurking. Never too far behind but, still too close for comfort.

You've been here for two years and five months in a few days according to the calendar that hung in your shared quarters. However you weren't planning on staying for the anniversary.

A brown satchel that hung from your shoulders carried all that you had for the perceived future until you could wrangle up some more scraps of rations from orphaned establishments on the road.

You weren't going back to the base. You refuse.

Onwards you marched. According to the directions Casey had given you it was just a little further until you reached a small opening that you would need to crawl through to get to the connecting manhole that would lead you straight out of the safe haven of the sewers and into the fry-pan of NYC city boundries. The teen even went as far as described an outpost just a couple miles Northwest towards New Jersey. Having scrambliled together a poorly drawn map of the terrain to gift you on your journey.

You and Casey both knew of the dangers there were trying to escape this place. Mutant or not. Though it didn't mean it was going to stop them from at least trying to free you from your gilded cage.

You had thanked the boy who had felt like a kid brother during your encampment at the base. Both shedding a tear for one another as you departed ways. Wishing the other luck as the world slowly continues to crumble around them. Unsure of the others fate.

The flashback helped to revitalize your will, spurring the need to flee as your pace began to pick up. Heart beat and foot falls mirroring another.

You didn't know how much longer you had before he caught up with you....

Speaking of the Devil.

A random splash not too far off sent you rocketing forward. Feet pounded through the stream of water lapping at your ankles. Unrelenting like the hunter that was behind you.

You didn't even want to look back. You feared if you did your knees would buckle at the very sight of his domineering form lunging for you.

Tokyo Drifting the corner, you spun to the left, a skirt of water splashing your legs once again, in further indirect efforts of creating a swimming pool in your boots.

He was fucking with you. You could tell.

If Leo was really being serious he would've captured you in his hold the moment he originally found you. Most likely had woken up due to the lack of your warm presence next to him in the cot you shared.

If you knew the red eared slider, which you felt at this point you did.

You knew he had been on your tail since the minute you left. Stepping foot outside the main body of the base.

°°°°°°°°°°°

"(Y/n)....? Honey...." Leo groaned half awake. It was the middle of the night and his body had suddenly woken him from the bliss of his dreams.

Tired olive hands searched the sheets for your figure...only to find the lack of it.

Dark eyes flew open.

You. Weren't. Here.

Out of the bed he sprung, eyes stabbed through the dark. Only to find the lack of you and your belongings that had been here when the two of you had gone to bed.

His mind flew into chaos at the realization however, unlike his adolescent self he was able to control his panic. He calmed his ragging breath remembering his father's sage advice to not let his feelings get the better of him. That it was unbecoming for a ninja and a leader.

Honestly Leo should've seen it coming.

He wasn't any genuis-boy Donnie by any means but, didn't mean Leo was a fool.

He had saw the signs for a while now.

Eagerly you'd volunteer for any job if it meant being at odd schedules with him. It didn't matter if it was patrol or scavenging, if it got you away from him, even for a little while, you did it.

When approached about it, you simply claimed that you wanted to be useful for The Resistance. Reassuring Leo that your desire for work came from your feelings of being needed rather than the lumbering turtle's overbearing presence being the cause behind your disappearing acts.

Leo being ever so observant would notice how your close comrades and Casey Jr. would also actively participate in these same runs with you.

Everytime.

Tigers gnawed at his stomach lining and baboons pounded in his chest when he thought about what they could be discussing. What they could be doing.

In the beginning you and Leo had been soooo close.

Since teenagers. He had known you even before you knew him.

He had saved you.

Him.

He was seventeen and feeling free. The Krrang hadn't attacked yet, he still had his arm, and Ralph wasn't dead.

You had been just another girl he came upon on a nightly patrol.

Beforehand he and Raph had gotten into another disagreement. Something stupid about him not being a team player and not listening to his comrades.

Whatever. Leo didn't care.

Leo was his own one-man show— he liked to believe. Although when the going got tough, he knew he had his brothers to fall back on. They relied on one another even if they didn't like to admit it all the time. They were children after all.

Squeaky sneakers and labored breaths filled the illuminated basketball court. Within the fenced primiters was a single girl shooting hoops. And not too badly for the self-proclaimed professional's standards if he did say so himself.

She kept herself grounded but, still agile. Launching the basketball from all the points lines, even the ones that have long since been faded by eroding weather and age. (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back into a high poney tail that whipped around with her movements.

She was like a basketball ballerina dancing a Lebron James Swan Lake. It was ethereal.

Time passed like rain droplets down car windows. Before he knew it the similarly aged female was packing up getting ready to go. Obvious signs being the (2f/c)towel around her neck and the (f/c) sports jacket she threw on over her fitted tank top.

Alas Leo didn't have the right mojo to go pursue her. Nor the right disguise.

For the next few weeks(at least how long he felt it had been emotionally. He wasn't keeping track.) Leo would return to that same basketball court, eager to see the basketball ballerina again.

Sometimes she was there, sometimes not. When she was it typically was late, at least for human standards. And always alone. Leo felt for her but, didn't particularly mind since that meant there was no one to disturb the skilled performance.

The (y/c) haired girl would show up. Shoot some hoops for a while before walking away into the night.

Her (e/c) eyes always looked absent when she shot her baskets. Emotions didn't voice themselves on her neutral complexion. The only real thing that was direct about her was that she was focused with the task at hand. Which was shooting hoops.

Leo wasn't a hundred percent sure what led her to the rundown court almost every night but, he was grateful for the occurrence.

Until one night he wasn't.

Like the last few nights, the red eared slider teen came to the court to spectate his favorite four pointer dancer. Only to find a lack of her usual performance. Instead sat the empty eroding court.

It was two in the morning and his brothers would start wondering where he is soon.(Not that they weren't already curious where their blue bandana brother was going.) A light sprinkle had started to pick up overhead that pushed the olive turtle to call it night.

Standing up from the ledge the turtle was about to leap from his position but, only froze upon hearing laughter. Down below underneath the iridescent fluorescent lamps was you.

The obvious lack of your usual athletic attire suggested you weren't here to play basketball. Instead of a tank top with a pair of shorts; dark jeans hugged your hips complimented by a (2f/c) Lou Jitsu t-shirt and (f/c) sport jacket.

With said jacket you shielded yourself from the drizzle. The lighting made you look like you were glowing, the uncharacteristic smile on your face added to the image.

What broke the breath-taking view was by whom he assumed were your friends. The two of them ran after you into the court with their own grins plastered on their complexions.

The scene of the trio caused the red eared slider's stomach to bumble with jealousy. He wanted to be down there with you. The sound of your guys' conjoined laughter would make together would simply be the best. Leo didn't have a doubt about it.

If only.

For the next two hours the three humans ran through the city streets. Asphalt turned into water slides as they slid and skid. None of them aware of the mutant turtle following them from the rooftops.

By four, the other two humans who he learned names were Jonathan and Melissa(I know so unique) departed for the night.

(Y/n), as he overheard from your comrades, left to go your own way home.

Leo knew he shouldn't continue being out this late by himself. Especially without telling his brothers where. But, Leo couldn't pass up the chance to see where you lived.

By the time you got back to your apartment complex it was pushing five in the morning. Leo could make out from his spot hidden in the fire escape that you were an only child.

Apparent by the lack of anything in the unit. The only things that pointed towards any form of life were the pictures that hung on the plain beige walls.

Inside the cramped dingy apartment you procured yourself some top ramen before sitting on the old futon in the main room to watch some TV. Switching to a channel that played older movies.

Zapped onto the screen was an old Lou Jitsu film. The sight of the movie excited the red eared slider, hopeful thoughts of having similar interests made the monkey in his rib cage pound harder.

Before Leo knew it you were passed out with the remote in hand with the sun peeking out over the Manhattan bay.

Giving one last look towards you before retreating back into the sewers.

The following weeks passed by and Leo grew to like you more. Even if it's from a distance. Always excited when you appear whether it's on the court or in his dreams.

His heart was always so elated when he watched you perform. And the one time he's late of course some dumb delinquents want to mess up his usual date.

Upon arrival he could tell something was wrong right away. Your (f/c) bag sat on alone on the bench left halfway unzipped and abandoned. The ball you brought with you every time you came to the court was flattened and punctured.

Something was very wrong.

"Back off Creeps!"

It was your voice.

Leo not giving a moment's thought to the possibility of being seen by the public eye. Leapt from his perch down to the court.

Hidden off in the alleyway was you and a pair of petty thieves. One a mutant rooster the other just a normal ass-hat both dressed in stereotypical black attire.

"Shadap! If you'd just given us yer stupid wallet and phone from the start then we would've been gone already!" The rooster barked. His beak set in a displeased frown that matched his human accomplice's equally displeased sner.

Both were armed.

The human with a baseball bat, and the rooster with a small pocket knife.

Observing the scene, Leo quickly determined this would be a rather easy take down as long as he did it right.

"Stop the stallin' and give us yer cash!"

The rooster's feathers acting like fingers reached out for you. Instantly the rooster's right wing received a sudden shave.

"WTF!?" The avian mutant screeched using his left wing to clutch his clipped one to his chest.

Quick to defend from the unforeseen attack the human whipped around to swing his bat; .... only to find an empty space.

"What in the name of..."

"Aaghkk!" Straight in the face you had punched the rooster.

Leo swore his chest grew warmer at the action.

While Leo was temporarily distracted by your fists of fury, the ass-hat had swung at the olive-green turtle. Quickly the red eared slider dodged the attack to only return with his own. Easily slicing the bat into small unusable chunks.

Whilst Leo dealt with the ass-hat you fought the retaliating mutant chicken.

It was a somewhat fair fight considering the difference in DNA and physical capabilities.

You would've won too, had you not underestimated how strong a mutant chicken's punches were.

Next thing you knew you were K.O.ed. Your (H/c) head in a tizzy from bouncing your brain around in your cranium.

The blue bandana wearing turtle was not pleased by this.

The rooster gulped at the obvious displeasure emanating off the red eared slider. Not even having a chance to escape Leo swiftly knocked the chicken out before tying him up with his accomplice.

"Oh (Y/n).... I'm sorry I was late for the performance.." Leo apologized under his tired breath. Adoration gleamed in dark pools as he stared down at the object that plauged his dreams for last month.

Even with three digits per hand the sturdy turtle held you against his plastron securely as he returned you to your apartment.

The cold air whipped around the two of you as he sprinted across rooftops of Manhattan.

He was the happiest turtle alive having you in his arms. He never wanted to let you go.

But he did.

And how Leo missed you so dearly for the years that followed.

Not until he was pushing forty did he find you again.

New recruits weren't too much of an uncommon occurrence. However as leader it was his job to familiarize himself with his team to the best of his ability.

And when it came time to welcome in the greenhorns, there you were.

Despite the years that have added on your complexion you were still that beautiful basketball ballerina he found all those years ago.

His heart swelled.

Leo did his best to protect you better this time.

Even if, it meant keeping you here with him against your wishes.

Very quickly it was known amongst The Resistance how much you meant to the Commander.

Within six months he had you transferred under his supervision despite your skills aligning with General April's or even General Donnie's precincts.

It didn't matter.

Leo wanted you. And that was that.

There was no room to argue when it came to the leader's order.

Within the year, you were sharing quarters with the adult red eared slider and in the following months, his cot.

The few freedoms you found away from Leo were doing patrols or hanging with deceased General Cassandra's son.

Even then the interactions were limited.

It's hard to say no when the world around you is dying and you have no other choice in survival.

Which brings us back to the current present.

Racing like a bat out of hell you fleed your pursuer who was hot on your trail.

The basketball bunny runing from the hunter with a shell.

Oh God please! Please let me make this!

It was right in front of you.

Approximately two turns up ahead laid a small tunnel. It was a tight squeeze even for your stature but, if you could crawl far enough into there before Leo reached you. You'd make it.

You threw yourself into the stone wall. The rough texture scraped your palms but you didn't care. You kept running.

"(Y/n) please come back!" Leo hollered.

His voice was not far behind. He had to be literally on your tail.

This would be a miracle if you made this.

"(Y/n) wait! You can't leave!" Anger could be heard in his deep voice. The same tone he used when displeased with your behavior when socializing amongst your fellow comrades.

There it was!

Right there!

Not even thinking about it—

You dove for the small tunnel. Knees instantly bowed to the floor as you began crawling into the opening. The hole was disgusting but, you didn't mind that as you shuffled your body forwards.

" NO! " Leo growled.

A yelp escaped your throat. Clawing hands clasping around your ankle before attempting pull you back. Despite scraping at the edges of the rusted entrance. All it took was a single tug from the adult red eared slider to dragged you out of the small hideaway. Sadness and anger quick to take over his desperate senses.

"Why!? Why did you try to leave me!?" The mutant demanded.

You didn't know what to do. You were frozen. He caught you. You didn't plan for this. You hadn't really thought—

You really had hoped—

"(Y/n)! Answer me!"

"Is everything I do for you and your kind not enough? Why can't I have you?" Leo cried.

His aged but charming features stared you down with so much hurt. He loves you so much. Too much. So why would you go?

"I've always been there for you (Y/n)... my basketball ballerina...don't I...deserve you?" Leo reasoned. His voice displayed the hurt he felt as he reasoned with you.

Well more like manipulated.

"I love you so much.... I just can't lose you again."

Muscular arms pressed you against his plastron. Underneath it you could hear the bird fluttering in his ribs.

Your mind was running a mile a minute, terrified, flustered, unsure what comes next.

" I love you (y/n)...". Was the last thing your brain registered before feeling a pinch to the bundle of nerves in your neck. Falling limp like a ragdoll in the Commander's arms.

Releasing a sigh the tired adult red eared slider held you in the one-sided embrace for just a little longer. Relishing in the warmth from your body that wasn't accompanied by the small trembles from you.

The hug didn't last long before the mutant readjusted his hold on you so that you laid in his arms. Leo didn't mind doing this every once in awhile when the anniversary of your arrival came up. As long as you don't do it again for another year.

He would have to disperse that support group of yours....

Once back in the safe confinements of Resistance HQ; Leo made a B-line to your guys shared room. There he stripped you of your drenched coat and boots before tucking you back into the shared bed. In your spot next to him.

The blue bandana wearing turtle let out a tired yawn as he closed the door before crawling inside the sheets to lay besides you.

Leo was aware he was being selfish but, he just couldn't live without you. Not again. And certainly not in this cruel world that just wants to take away everything he holds dear.

Dark pools stared down at your resting face. His prosthetic hand lovingly caressed the soft skin of your face. Soothing both you and himself in the process.

Slipping away into the land of rest. Even while dreaming the Resistance Commander held on dearly to you.

Not allowing you the same chance to escape his embrace twice.

¶¶ Creator's Notes¶¶

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this part please enjoy part 2!

[hot-take-tournament]

Omg the reblog person is so real for that. I understand that Tumblr doesn't have an algorithm so liking doesn't functionally do anything but I get extremely anxious about reblogging so the guilt trips are really awful for me (and I assume it's the same for others with similar issues.)

Uh- bit of a tangent/rant below. For context I'm an "Audhd-er" (I think that's the term people use, it means I'm autistic and I have ADHD)

I understand most of the time they are over-exaggerating their feelings on the matter. In posts about reblogging stuff from writers and artists it's always kind of a "LIKES DO NOTHING SHOW YOUR LOVE WITH REBLOGS LIKES MEAN NOTHING"

I've always found that a bit odd. As someone with two mutuals (one of whom is rarely online) and 1 normal follower my reblogs really aren't gonna do much so I mostly reblog stuff my mutuals might like and occasionally make my own posts. (Keeping everything else private for the most part) When I get a like it always brings a warm fuzzy feeling because it means someone enjoyed my reblog or post enough to share with me that they liked it.

I've only had one post that breached containment and it was a fun weekend of checking out the blogs of people who liked it! All in all I think maybe people are just unaware of the anxieties that come with being online and the people who experience those anxieties are too anxious to really speak up about it. I mean look at me I'm chilling behind an anon mask rn (I rarely send an off anon ask lol.)

For a website dubbed by its users as the neurodivergent website, some people forget to consider that learning and working within the culture of a social media platform can be extremely stressful for many types of people, let alone an autistic person such as myself (the ADHD doesn't help either). Some of us would prefer to lurk in our private blogs, only coming out of our comfort zone when we feel ok to do so.

All in all, a reminder to reblog is perfectly fine, but please refrain from the guilt-tripping and social obligation type of thing— or at least be aware of it and try not to be offended if one of your mutuals struggles to reblog.

Now this is all my personal perspective, other people will likely have completely different experiences but I wanted to share in case people were confused on why it's an issue for some people. Thanks for reading this whole thing and I hope you have a lovely day <3

I think I get what you're saying -

For a lot of people it genuinely takes a surprising amount of guts to put themselves out there on the internet in any way, even if it's anonymously, and that includes things as simple as reblogging a post.

It's not just Tumblr either. You also see it on Reddit and Twitter, and in online games where people just want to keep to themselves and not interact with strangers. Some people just want to lurk, maybe liking or upvoting, but not commenting or reblogging, because that feels like making yourself more "visible" somehow, in a way simply liking posts doesn't.

It's difficult to put into words, but I feel it's kind of like being in a university lecture with 50+ strangers. Liking is sitting in the back quietly taking notes. Reblogging is like putting your hand up and giving an opinion when the professor asks for one.

It's true that only reblogging actually contributes anything functionally, but there are plenty of people, especially neurodivergent people, who might struggle with that kind of thing, but still want to show some appreciation, or just save it as a bookmark.

So, I think that's partly why that kind of guilt-tripping or threatening reblog bait can be so stressful. Tumblr is a comfort app for a lot of people, who just want to curate their own little private space. Reblog baits are like someone banging on your door, telling you that you're actively doing something wrong by keeping to yourself, and (in the case of "I'll block/unfollow you if you like/read but don't reblog" baits) people will hate you for doing it.

It also implicitly takes away the sense of control you have over your own personal online space. Ideally, you should be able to do whatever you want with your own blog - no one should dictate your own online experience. So, if you just want to reblog things you like or want to share, at whatever pace you feel comfortable with, there shouldn't be anything wrong with that.

But reblog baits seem to suggest that you shouldn't have that control, and there are certain things that you have no choice but to put on your blog, and it has to be right now. And I feel that sense of having control suddenly snatched away from you without warning could also be a major source of anxiety for a lot of people who see Tumblr as a source of comfort.

With all that in mind, while I do believe that it's not quite this simple, considering artists and writers, and especially those who rely on commissions, do need exposure from reblogs, I also feel it's difficult to blame people for finding very aggressive reblog baits stressful, especially when you're suddenly blindsided with them.

At least, those are just my initial thoughts based on what you said, but absolutely let me know if you disagree with any of this or feel I misrepresented what you meant <3

[astars-things]

3 and 5 with Ethan

Pairing brothers best friend Ethan Edwards x reader

(protective prompt list)

mentions of a creepy guy

3 " it's alright... it's okay... i'm here now. i've got you. "

5  “It hurts so bad… please make it stop.”

I walked into the party and immediately felt a chill run down my spine. Something just didn't feel right, and my intuition was rarely wrong. I brushed it off and tried to enjoy myself, chatting with friends and sipping on my drink. That's when I saw him.

He was lurking in the corner, watching everyone with a sinister grin on his face. His eyes seemed to follow me wherever I went, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was staring straight into my soul. I tried my best to avoid him, but he always seemed to pop up wherever I went.

As the night wore on, I began to feel more and more uneasy. I saw him approaching me out of the corner of my eye and quickly turned to walk away, but he caught me by the arm. "It's alright... it's okay... I'm here now. I've got you," he whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I pulled away, but he held on tight. "Let go of me," I demanded, my heart racing. He just laughed and pulled me closer, his grip tightening. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I just want to take care of you."

That's when my brother's best friend, Ethan, stepped in. "Hey man, let her go. She obviously doesn't want to be touched," he said, his tone firm. The creepy guy finally released me, and I stumbled back, trying to catch my breath.

Ethan put his arm around me, protecting me from the creepy guy's gaze. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

“It hurts so bad… please make it stop.” i pointed to the large bruise that was forming on my wrist "Let's get you out of here," he said, leading me away from the party.

As we walked, Ethan told me about the creepy guy. Apparently, he had a reputation for being a bit too handsy with the ladies. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he said, his voice soft. "Just know that I've got your back."

I felt safe with Ethan, and as we walked home, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to have him in my life. The memory of the creepy guy would stay with me for a long time, but I knew that with Ethan by my side, I could handle anything.

[a-fervent-revision]

A Bio? On my Blog??

It’s more likely than you think!

Seriously though I feel like I’m contractually obligated to make one at this point lol.

In the event I have not made it explicitly clear, this blog is 18+ ONLY. 🔞

If you do not have your age clearly listed in a pinned bio or profile bio, DNI. If you try, it’s a block for you. 🔨 IN ADDITION - You can lurk, if you like, but I've become increasingly uncomfortable with the number of 18/19 year old blogs present that are posting stuff on Tumblr. If you choose to interact with me, please note that this blog is now only accepting DM's and reblogging/liking things from blogs that are At MINIMUM 20-years-old. I don't want to feel like I'm grooming someone just because you want attention. You need peers, not me.

This is also a safe space for all. I won't tolerate hate of any kind any anyone is welcome to be here and interact with me as long as you aren't a shithead.

Name: whatever you like babes 💋 If you need to call me something personal, I go by Jay, but I like pet names and terms of endearment far more.

Age: 28

Pronouns: He/Him

Height: 6’2”

Riddled with ADHD and Anxiety so apologies in advance.

I suppose you'd call me a switch? I dunno, I very much like being dominant but I will absolutely not call myself a Dom because I don't believe I am one.

Definitely not straight, but not sure beyond that, so just.. queer? haha idk In general, I'm into femeninity, so women for sure are lovely, but androgynous folks, trans folks, all the spectrums in between I'm not at all opposed to. If I find you attractive then I find you attractive. I think in general that usually just leaves men out lol.

I love writing and chatting and my DM’s and Asks are absolutely open and I welcome them! Mutuals have preferential treatment in DM's, and I do reserve the right to not answer though. Nothing personal if I don’t get to you I promise; I try to respond to everything I can!

With the above in mind, I’m way down to rp, sext, talk about life, hear you vent, just be a friend, whatever you like in a message. I’m not always the fastest responder but I love chatting and meeting new people.

Second major point. I'm here for a good time not a committed time: I’m not interested in building any sort of romantic relationship here. I’m loads of fun and here for getting to know people and platonic fucking around on this site and making friends, but please respect that boundary. LIKES - Choking, Breeding, spit/cum play, knife play, light blood, rp, oral in general, obsession, somno, exhibitionism, bondage, demons, monster fucking, oviposition, cnc (with the right person), anal, free use, worship, and I'm sure there are more. The dislikes are really the important ones here; I'm into a lot of shit. DISLIKES - rape (don't use the word if you mean cnc, that's not the same), forced penetration with unsafe objects (I'm not going to even pretend to fuck someone with a gun, that shit's dangerous), vomit, scat, racism, mysoginy, sexism, homophobia, any other predjudice that one might think of. Welcome, and enjoy! Feel free to reach out via DM's or ASKs whenever. Or just stalk my blog and be horny. That's chill too!

[monstersandmaw]

i saw your post about feeling like it isn't worth it to write cuz of reblogs lacking etc and wanted to let you know that even if they're not interacting with it, somebody out there saw it and enjoyed it, or even needed it.

i feel a bit bad for dragging my feet on this, am sorri, but i wanted to say thank you for your writing, the way you build up your little worlds and scenes and characters, and fill them with this genuine little warm and cozy feeling that you can just curl up in. (and pull off plot beats and subtle hints like a pro. :})

because i stumbled across your stories when i was at a severe low point, trying to patch myself up mentally after an abusive mess. and your stories, your writing, all the warmth and coziness and genuineness and just how sweet and intimate you craft relationships- it helped. deeply. it helped remind me what a good healthy and loving relationship looks like, what i should look up to and gauge a future one on, what i shouldn't bend on just because someone doesn't like it - and yes, i know, you're not the sole arbiter of relationship standards, please don't worry - but it still helped so much then. it reminded me that the hell i went though wasn't normal, wasn't on me, and i kept going thru your stories to remind me on the worse days. and those bad days kept coming less, because reminding me eventually gave me a small little constant flame of understanding and hope and relief with all this. and so your writing means and represents so fucking much to me. so thank you. so much.

obviously one person's experience doesn't make up for that work-to-appreciation ratio, or even a tiny number. but i hope knowing that for someone, (maybe even many someones), your writing represents more than just regular reading fodder- helps lessen the feeling of writing not being worth it for you. even if it's a tiny tiny bit.

I don’t have enough words for how lovely and kind (and brave) this is of you, Anon. Thank you.

I never mean to guilt trip people into reblogging, and only ever mean it as a general rule to encourage people who don’t know or aren’t sure about the etiquette, or to remind people who just comment ‘more pls’ without any other effort/nuance.

For those like this sweet Anon who don’t have the spoons or the energy or the time or whatever, you absolutely carry on as you are. It’s always so hard making posts which try to get people fired up about reblogging because I know it’s also going to look like I’m pressuring the quieter folk to do something they’re not comfortable with etc.

Know that at the heart of it, you’re all welcome here, whether you’re lurking and chilling out, or reblogging left right and centre.

Thank you for taking the time and effort out of your day to reassure me with this, Anon, and I hope you know you’re as treasured and valued as anyone else who contributes to this community simply by being here with us to enjoy all the creations people share.

Take good care of yourself, and goodnight from a very warm room somewhere in the south of England :). 👻💤

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 22

The numbness of my body feels incredible; it’s so refreshing not feeling the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion anymore. No fatigue. No pain. No illness. Just an eternal life earthside with the ones I love. I feel alive, powerful, and invincible, as if I could crush a boulder with my bare hands. It’s a sensation I never imagined I’d feel, especially after countless traumatic events during our gruesome adventures. I thought I’d lose myself after becoming immortal, but I’m thankful for another day of being my true, authentic self.

Gale and I try to go to sleep, but it’s so challenging with the intense energy we have that seems to never fade, whereas Jenevelle has no problem falling asleep. Maybe it’s because she’s not aware of immortality and thinks nothing of it? I have no clue. It’s the middle of the night, where owls are lurking about in the skies and not a peep to be heard from the outside. I take a deep breath, admiring the luminous light of the moon shining through our window, feeling the energy flow through my body. Gale and I are just lying in our bed surrounded by tranquility and peace without a worry in our minds. This is what contentment is, huh? Well, despite the fact our little baby won’t ever get to grow up. It’s not exactly an idea we can easily part with.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Lying awake in each other’s company while the aura of the midnight moon beams through our bedroom window?” Gale murmurs poetically as he’s gazing into my eyes. We’re embracing one another in the calm of the late night as we’re snuggled naked under the blankets.

“Being with you keeps me going, and to just enjoy our time in the presence of the night… I don’t want anything more,” I whisper, twirling his brown hair with my index finger. I know Gale is trying not to think about when Mystra will eventually confront him about abandoning her to sell his soul and I’m not exactly keen on the idea of my goddess confronting me either. Both of us turning away from them was an unbearable but necessary choice we had to make to keep our daughter safe. For now, we are escaping the thoughts of the harsh reality and enjoying the ‘now.’

“I love you.” The whisper of his voice in my ear brings chills up my spine. It’s like a song you can’t quit listening to, the sound of a certain melody that makes your brain relax, the touch of a feather.

“I love you too.” I smile and place my hand on his face as I lean in to kiss him. Our lips touch as he places his hand on the back of my head, our tongues intertwining with one another. I gently moan as he begins to kiss down my neck while his hand has other plans. I decide to roll over on top of him so his naked, warm body is beneath mine, begging for my touch. The silence is loud; he wants me. His eyes are locked on mine as he traces his fingertip down my torso, causing me to shiver from the relaxing touch. I feel him inside me as I grind upon him with my hips, feeling every sensation within my body. I grab his hands and place them on my bare breasts.

“You’re perfect,” he moans, proceeding to roll me over and position my body beneath his. He stares intimately into my eyes as I’m pinned to the bed. I bite my lower lip as I pull my legs up next to my head, allowing him to make his next move. He raises an eyebrow, but gives me that smile as he thrusts himself within me; the one I fell in love with when we first met. Each thrust feels incredible, causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head. He turns me over and I plead for more. He pulls my hair back as I feel him grind from behind, my ass in the air hoping to receive the most he has to offer. As he continues, bliss and satisfaction overwhelm every inch of my body. I grip the sheets with my hands as I feel the intensity of my climax take over my body.

I lie here on my back, realizing it’s always been him that I want. I don’t need the weave to feel the magic. Before I know it, morning has arrived and while we aren’t sleepy, our bodies are actually exhausted. Sex as an immortal is a wild ride that I can’t begin to describe.

“That lasted longer than I had originally anticipated,” Gale murmurs as we just lie here on top of the comforters.

“I’m not complaining at all. Our session was something else for sure, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” We gather our thoughts as we try to find the motivation to get out of bed, but then Jenevelle can be heard from her room. That didn’t take long.

“I’ll go get her a bottle ready,” he says as he stands up and pulls his pants back on. I smile, pursing my lips as if I’m demanding a kiss. He chuckles and kisses me, then wanders out of the room and to the kitchen. I slip on my gown and make my way to Jenevelle’s room to get her dressed for the day. She appears happy and ready for the morning ahead.

“Good morning little darling,” I tell her, a smile growing on my face as I watch her light up with joy. She kicks her feet as I reach down to pick her up from her crib, then smacks her lips repeatedly knowing damn well it’s time for a bottle. While she is immortal, I do know she needs her milk to sustain her energy and mood.

As I change Jenevelle, Gale trots into the room, prepared to feed her.

“How is our little girl this morning?”

“She seems to be rather happy today, thank the stars.” I hand her over to Gale and gently kiss her soft forehead. She gives him a certain look as he gets ready to feed her; a look of admiration and contentment, like she idolizes him. She has so much love for her daddy, and for that I am forever grateful. I realize out of the blue that today is the day Shadowheart and Astarion adopt their little one, which I plan on stopping by to bring them a gift basket full of necessities and self-care items. I know she’ll need it, especially since this adoption was completely sudden and they’re both clueless on what to expect; it will be the beginning of a rough yet fulfilling road ahead.

I step into the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror mindlessly, realizing how much has changed in my life. Not just recently, but since the beginning of our adventures. From finding out about my pregnancy to Karlach getting married to Wyll, Shadowheart adopting a child with Astarion, and becoming an immortal being…nothing is the same. Change is always expected, but who knew it would happen so quickly? Myself, I’ve also changed. I used to be such a people pleaser, trying to ensure I don’t make anyone mad and please them so they’ll stay. Now? I’d die for my family. I’ll stand up to bullshit. I won’t be dragged around anymore.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

AND THATS A WRAP !

Hello, hello! It's me, the local dumbass that went "lol lets run this silly event" since January. I'd like to say thank you so much for participating!

I never thought that so many would look @ my blog event and go ":D lets go get matched w/ yans!" LIKE?? HELP WE GOT A LOT OF SUBMISSIONS SINCE DAY 1, IT MADE ME GO "oh shit" BAHAHAHAHA

But fr, I want to say thank you so much. To those who came in to join the matchup, to those who participated as anons to the story that was unfolding, and to those that were theorizing and even lurking:

Thank you so much for giving me a chance. You guys have no idea how much it means to me to celebrate this milestone with all of you.

I would love to mention everyone of y'all that joined to leave my special thanks, but this post will be lengthy if I did that and I... Am NOT about to make it too sappy LMAOOOO

Now! On the update + future plans:

The rest of the fics will be posted but slowly and will be saved as special dlc fics of One Last Call. This covers additional lore of the worldbuilding behind OLC, but there are some that won't be written (Freminet and Aether are unfortunately those I can't write as yanderes) to lessen the load. Also, some will be shorter/snippet wise, but we shall see.

I will be making a "story explained" post for OLC and the characters behind it. This goes into the possible "what ifs", the original draft of the story (storyboard lol), what each character would've been in my plans, and everything in between! (Also, there may or may not be drawn sketches for each of them. Maybe kek).

The next event will be happening on March. I won't elaborate what it'll be, but it will be indulgent and maybe a little funny (for me). It'll also last for a week at most so I don't end up burning myself out LMAOO

Finally, I will be hosting small event for Cupid, Eros, and Boss. They won't be big, but they will have their spots when I planned out what'll happen to them. (Hint: you guys are going to see them often on your feed if you know where to look ;>)

For now though, I will be finishing up the drabbles and pray I get them queued to finally archive this event. Also, I will be responding to asks + cleaning up my inbox again when I'm done :)

Once again, thank you everyone. I genuinely thought that running One Last Call will not work out back then (I told a few friends I was scared that it won't take off as it did), but I pushed through it anyway since I thought it'd be fun anyway. And to see everyone enjoy it is the best feeling I've had since opening this blog.

I hope all of you enjoy chilling as I try to write + post the drabbles for OLC before concluding its tale... And hopefully writer's block does not slam its gavel on my ass BAHAHAHAHAHA

[earlgreytea68]

okay so i have fallen headfirst back into fob w smfs and having that album drop coinciding w finally being in a place where I can just! buy tickets!! and see them on tour!! And i did and it was AMAZING

part of falling back into this has been lurking on fob/peterick blogs again the way I did back in HS, and yours brings me so much joy! what a lovely community you’ve cultivated here, and i adore your fics sm as well—I’m systematically working my way through each one

so a lot of love your way <3 i do need a bit of a second opinion though—I’ve been working myself up over trying to figure out if I can see them again while they’re touring for smfs. There’s a part of me that worries that this might be the last album—the same part that was the most upset when they were touring for MANIA and i couldn’t make that show. SO i would love to hear if you’ve got any thoughts re whether my fears hold any water—or if you think I should chill out, enjoy the ride of keeping up w this tour, and be secure in the fact that our boys aren’t going anywhere any time soon

Hello! First of all, yay, welcome back, and thank you so much for all of your kind words!

I know that there were a ton of rumors this was going to be their last album and they were going to call it quits after this, but having heard the album and watched them promote it and then seeing this tour they're putting on...it seems so unlikely to me???? They just don't act like a band who's done, who doesn't have anything more to say. Like, when Patrick talks about Fall Out Boy he's so very clear that it's, like, necessary for him to have, that it's the art and creativity that he does because of how much he loves it, not a job, and it would seem weird for him to talk that way, so vocally, if there was any inkling in his head that this would be the last time he would have it, you know?

And Pete has been the less vocal one this cycle, and we know he was the one who was reluctant to do another album and undertake another tour, but he has seldom seen so genuinely happy as he has during this tour, he seems to be loving every second of it.

And Joe came back and also seems delighted to be back.

Idk, I do not get the feeling of a band with any intention of winding down. They feel completely reinvigorated and reinspired and ready to go. It would not at all surprise me if they're already writing the next one, we know Patrick and Pete like to write while on tour. And I think they've really enjoyed being out of contract and having total control back, I really think it has opened up the horizons of what they want to and can do. Plus their fanbase has turned out for them loyally and so I don't think they are getting any kind of message that they're not wanted or needed anymore.

So Idk, I think in my heart of hearts there will be another album and another tour eventually someday.

All of that said, there will probably be people who will disagree with this life advice, and please always do what's best for you and your financial situation and life situation, but also: life is short, and uncertain. I didn't get into Fall Out Boy until the Mania tour was just wrapping up, and they announced they were going to play a random festival in Cincinnati and I agonized over going and finally decided to do it and I have to be frank, that weekend in Cincinnati was one of the best weekends of my life, I think about all the time how wonderful it was, the show was incredible, and it was the last concert I saw before the pandemic hit and I spent all of that time just being so incredibly grateful that I'd gone to that Cincinnati concert because otherwise I would have regretted it forever.

If you are in the incredibly lucky and privileged position to be able to afford to do something that you really want to do, and doing so will not bankrupt you or send you into a debt crisis or harm previous commitments you need to keep or, etc., etc., like, if the only argument you can come up with against doing something is "Idk, would this be ridiculous????," Idk, I think I'd err on the side of doing the thing. That's not just advice for Fall Out Boy concerts. You get to do this life thing once, and it goes by so much faster than you can possibly anticipate. If something's going to bring you joy, that's pretty precious. Take it where you can get it.

[valentine-escape]

Room 66 II

Room 66 II was an emotional roller coaster like no other, seamlessly forging an undying mark on our memories. If you're seeking a spooky adventure that will push your boundaries and evoke feelings you've never experienced before, look no further.

Way back in 2014 when I had no idea what escape rooms are, my besties texted me about an experience that they claimed was seemingly custom-made for me (to clarify, it's the opposite of what I'd enjoy, absolutely out of my comfort zone and they'd pay good money just to see me react to whatever evil was in there). I was still in London so all I had to do was visit them in Sofia and find someone crazy enough to walk in voluntarily with me so I could check if they were exaggerating.

Room 66 I had prepared us for the game beginning with the very arrival, so when we heard the familiar creepy voice of the game master, we were ready. Or so we thought. I bravely entered the room but was ready to leave in the first minute and leave my girlfriend to survive on her own. I have watched a demonic plethora of horror movies to know how it goes in rooms shrouded in pitch cold darkness (COLD DARKNESS BY VALENTINE RAIN IS NOW ON SPOTIFY AND YOUTUBE LOL). I just glued myself to the wall and waited for Ilianka to find a source of light while covering my ears.

The level of fear induced was so intense that I found myself screaming like a little girl – a testament to the room's spine-chilling atmosphere. I was constantly on edge, anticipating a jump scare lurking around every corner. There were moments when I even let out a shriek at the sight of my own shadow, only to burst into laughter at my own jumpy reaction; this blend of fear and amusement added an extra layer of excitement to the already immersive experience.

The attention to detail in the decor also deserves high praise. Every inch of the setting was meticulously crafted to transport us into a world of grimness and suspense. From the eerie lighting that cast haunting shadows to the unsettling props strategically placed throughout the room, the decor was a masterclass in creating an atmosphere of dread.

It wasn't just about visual elements either – the incorporation of harrowing sounds and textures added to the overall sensory experience, leaving no doubt that we were immersed in a realm of terror - it was truly as if we had stepped right into the heart of a horror movie. The decor unequivocally played a pivotal role in shaping the macabre ambiance that kept us on our toes and heightened the overall intensity of the escape room. The flawless blending of reality and fiction was uncanny.

Furthermore, the riddles weren't mere brain teasers; they were integral to the storyline, effortlessly pushing us forward while enriching the narrative. The way they were intricately integrated with the horror-themed setting heightened the sense of urgency and also made us feel like active characters in a movie about... I guess if Samara and Regan MacNeil had a possessed child in dire need of an exorcist? 😂 You know, the standard.

I’ll try not to give away anything from the plot, but the actress who embodied the main character deserves special commendation. Her portrayal was immensely compelling, creating a level of fear that felt almost tangible. Adroit at conjuring up a sensation of petrifying shivers, she fully submerged us in a demonic domain. Her performance was a standout, encapsulating the heart of the experience and enhancing the overall intensity.

Even if horror is not your cup of tea, it's almost paradoxical how the very elements that evoke fear and trepidation also possess a magnetic pull, enticing those who have experienced the chilling thrill to willingly subject themselves to it repeatedly.

After we escaped (just a minute earlier than the devoted time for the game), I was shocked to see the actors reveal themselves as actual human beings. My mind couldn’t comprehend how quickly I was plucked from a horror movie setting and dropped back into reality.

When it was time to take photos, I wanted to get the cross and flip it; nevertheless, it turned out that just before we played, representatives of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church had contacted the owners regarding photos involving it, so we didn't use it as a prop (nor did we display the bible, haha).

Honestly, this room beckons me to bring new souls to it again and again, just so I can experience everything anew. There was a game that was dedicated only to larger teams that I didn't get to try, so there's the incentive (as if I needed one).