#Blackout Protocol

[andysmuse]

Jake’s open air 2024

Jake’s open air 2024 Jake’s open air 2024 It’s that time of the year again. The time in which we are spending most of our free time outdoors while the summer gives us its best shot. It’s the time of the year in which we are also going to outdoor festivals and concerts and they take place around the entire world. Some are known globally, while others are only known by the locals. These smaller…

[g4zdtechtv]

Cinematech's Trailer Park - Blackout Protocol (Multiplatform)

Entering Early Access, with a shift in plan!

[phoenixcatch7]

Security breach's story (including ruin) was super weird, right? Left a lot unexplained, introduced a lot of confusing elements, cleared nothing up, and made it worse with the ending of ruin. Very frustrating.

But.

I have a bold claim - in this essay I'm going to tell you that I think I've found the unifying theory of security breach, INCLUDING ruin. And no, it's nothing that's mentioned in the actual game.

It's 'Remnant'.

Now presumably matpat or some other theorist has made more detailed connections and I just haven't been able to find it, and I'm a casual fan at best lol. But I'm quite chuffed, so. I'm sharing.

Remnant is basically glowing soul juice produced by high emotions - children, trauma, excitement, suffering, death. Ectoplasm, essentially. It gets into physical objects and stores that emotion, like how a stuffed teddy is full of love or a torture device is full of pain. Yay!

Afton, during his killing spree, harvested this remnant from kids to fuel his plan for immortality (or something). He discovered along the way that if it was infused into a material like metal, then it could be shaped and, when combined with any form of intelligence ('even ai', he says!) it acts as a source of independent power 'that translates into movement, which is why things may appear haunted'. Ergo, animatronics. His perfect army of golems and test subjects.

The first round was, of course, fnaf 1, with the children literally stuffed into the suits to power them, which, yikes, horrible, and in a food establishment? Later he figured out how to skip the rotting corpse step and directly infuse metal, which made it temperature volatile and apparently hard to store. Anything is better than the first round. This resulted in sister location with the scooper, which could (as best I figure?) take the remnant out directly and store it for later use. It could also recycle animatronics, to scrap them without wasting all that precious soul juice that could theoretically power something forever.

Anyway, decades later, the same company is still running, and their precious 'animatronics' are now full on artificially intelligent robots with an army of drone cleaners and a dozen well covered up missing children.

You see where I'm going with this?

I think the glam rock animatronics are crafted out of the newest, highest grade remnant metal to bring them to life (maybe a little too much)... and to aid in the gathering of remnant to power Trap/afton, in his little recharge pod under the earth, at vannys direction. (And presumably all that after hour neon lighting, let's be real.)

The animatronics are all secretly equipped with track and destroy technology - roxy with her sensitive ears and x-ray eyes, chica with her stunlock voice box, monty with his metal rending claws and pouncing ability... Freddy with his chest cavity big enough to fit a small child. Like old times!

I swear the daycare attendant has infrared vision and very possibly direct access to the cctv, but anyway. (I also swear freddy collapsing on stage and triggering the safety protocol after hours was the only thing keeping him from joining, even leading the pack of machines to comb the place and take Gregory down to the scooper by trick or by stick, and Gregory almost made a fatal decision when he hid in the chest cavity. No freddy has ever been nice after hours, and there's no reason given why this one is.)

Back to the DA, it gives the implications of their old power core (freddys original upgrade and heavily theorised to have previously belonged to the only 'tronic out during the hourly recharge) a whole new meaning. Perhaps the setting of the daycare and all that happy sugar high children energy making happy memories was a perfect environment for a low level (experimental? Inefficient?) sort of... Emotional photosynthesis? It would explain why one half is the daycare and the other is the security patrol. Food for thought. Obviously freddy isn't able to receive all those benefits for a number of reasons.

(And it might explain the poor treatment of the DA, too, if the core was removed for some reason, and why sun is struggling so hard to keep his hopes up if it can no longer absorb and process literal happiness vibes for the best haunting ever. Poor guy always gets the short end of the stick. Maybe it also explains why the DA is the only animatronic to glow... because of the remnant metal? The extra juice they were supposed to have?)

Yeah, but what about ruin? How does it fit into this?

Well, for one, the new scooper. It's the literal gathering tool and storage place for all this remnant, so it's presumably pretty vital. Afton is parked directly above it in a recharge pod, sucking up all that sweet sweet juice. He's literally drinking children's tears, the monster.

And the mimic. Because there's a second part to remnant that only becomes relevant now. It's the worst and strongest emotion that can only be created through immense pain and suffering. 'Agony'. A black sludge of distilled horrors. And the thing is, it's highly infectious. But agony is useless. Unless it's combined with remnant in a specific way, and the resulting reaction is extremely powerful and dangerous.

The mimic is infected with agony. And it's found itself probably the biggest source of remnant in the world. The battery of (potentially) the whole pizza plex, and every animatronic inside it. (Moon may well have been the first infected... If the patrol animatronic encountered the mimic on its arrival. Ooh, now there's a thought. It's more likely it saw and tried to stop vanny from some unethical activity (it's a purely robot job!) And she... Prevented it from becoming a recurring issue with the glitch code. Ah, but there's no proof.)

Either all that remnant is now corrupted, or converted. My money is not on converted because the mimic is not spreading a plague of suffering across the land, and is instead trying to lure kids in again to replenish the remnant. And the poor animatronics are still clinging to blackened, crippled life.

It certainly would explain why the company just dropped the entire location without either bulldozing it to the ground or trying to scavenge and repair. With the animatronics infected with agony, it's far too dangerous to do either, and of course officials absolutely cannot find out.

TLDR: I think the missing puzzle piece is 'Remnant' to explain aftons presence, the strangely alive animatronics, the point of all those child disappearances Gregory was supposed to be investigating, the scooper, the mimic, vannys actual job as head enabler for afton, the animatronic's violent upgrades, the true goal of the pizza plex and why it was built over the sinkhole, but most importantly... how they're footing that electricity bill.

But hey ;D! That's just a theory!

[thelastharbinger]

So...H5N1 (Bird Flu) is here

And all signs are pointing to a global pandemic more fatal than the one prior. The initial stages of this are a rinse and repeat of Covid-19's arrival, which saw a lot of state repression of information on the severity of infection rates and delayed enforcement of safety protocols.

Earlier this year, the U.S. saw its first death of an animal-to-human transmission of H5N1 in Louisiana; however with the rollback of safety and health federal regulations in the wake of the returning Trump administration, compounded by an executive-mandated communications blackout of the FDA, CDC and withdrawal from the WHO, conditions are ideal for a nightmarish outbreak scenario should transmissions evolve to human-to-human.

The following are reports coming from the U.K., U.S., and China in the last couple of days:

This is a CDC report from 2 weeks ago:

"As of January 6, 2025, there have been 66 confirmed human cases of H5N1 bird flu in the United States since 2024 and 67 since 2022. This is the first person in the United States who has died as a result of an H5 infection. Outside the United States, more than 950 cases of H5N1 bird flu have been reported to the World Health Organization; about half of those have resulted in death."

As of right now, I would highly implore everyone to cease the consumption of eggs and poultry products for the time being. There is currently an egg shortage due to "quality standards" in the U.S. and prices have already gone up dramatically. Get involved in community gardens and get in contact with local farmers--see what you can get directly from there! Mask up, update your vaccinations, practice proper hygiene, avoid physical contact with wild animals (birds especially), and stay safe! Look after your neighbors!

UPDATE: Weekend of 1/24 - 1/26/2025

Related: As of 1/26/25

- Kansas, USA is experiencing its highest record cases of tuberculosis in its entire history!

- New case of Polio recorded in Afghanistan

- India saw its first death in 101 confirmed cases of Guillain-Barré Syndrome (16 people are on ventilators)

A warmer planet is only going to exacerbate the spread of diseases worldwide moving forward. Mask up!

[yanderenightmare]

this doesn’t need to be a full story I’d just love to see some of scummy kirishima trying to refrain himself from forcing himself on his darling but she makes it .. so hard

BNHA ! THIRST

Kirishima Eijirou x darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, noncon/dubcon, misogyny, prohero au, inappropriate thoughts in the office… 

I took liberties - made darling a supervisor-type from the Hero Commission fsr

It's as though every inch of you begs him to pounce. From the free-fall of crispy-done curls that cascade down around your shoulder to the perfectly placed red-lined lips you smack once talking down to him about proper hero protocol and the subsequent punishments that follow insubordination and how you'll have his license revoked if he doesn't start playing by the Hero Public Safety Commissions rules.

You make him want to gather your expensive haircut in a tight-knit fist – smudge all that red over your pretty face when taking his cock so far down your bratty throat you choke on all the prissy words kept on your tongue for him.

Strutting in that tight black pencil skirt that cinches your small waist – making it look so perfectly receptacle for his large hands – above those firm hips and those doughy thighs he wants nothing more but to squeeze into and make jiggle as he buries himself deep between them. You make his balls itch every time you stomp away from him – with the cruelly tall peekaboo slit splitting your skirt open – teasing him with every loud step you take in those slick black stilettos - showing ankles and legs and knees and thighs, up and up but not far up enough to quench the feral hunger it edges deep down in his gut.

He'd shuffle on his knees – bite his knuckles in restraint – all to cop a feel of that ass and how you sway it with the same sass of an alley-cat. He can imagine it receiving his greedy hands so well – letting him carve in so far he might see his fingers completely swallowed in the fat. Leave his handprint in stinging welts that make you weep for kindness, bent over his lap with your wrists in his fist – only to be answered by his sharp teeth sinking deep into the supple flesh – making you scream.

You don't make it easy for him… being so tiny and snatchable. It would be the easiest thing – to take and tame you – to pull your much smaller body right off your feet and push you tight against the nearest wall – all your important documents on the floor beneath his dirty boots as you take his cock between your ribs and choke on the moan it gives you.

He can barely listen when you berate him – telling him his pay will be redacted if he doesn’t try harder at keeping the wreckage of private and government buildings to a minimum – unable to block out all the impure thoughts that go bubbling from his balls, making his throat tight as you stand there so primly in your glossy silk shirt with buttons so flimsy he bet they'd pop off on the slightest little tug. He imagines it as you continue your rant – your finger pointed at him strictly, and all he’s able to think about is how your breasts would spill out and he’d get to see whatever chic lace brazier you have on underneath.

Gnashing his teeth together, gritting them tight at how painful his boner is, kept inside the strict confines of his boxers while he imagines chewing on the pretty pearls you keep around your throat – thinking about tugging the necklace tight in a strangle, making you squeak and groan as he pounds you harder and harder from behind.

He bets only one of his big hands in your hair would have you completely humbled. Bet you'd cower in cries and do exactly whatever he'd tell you in fear of having your pretty body hurt.

He bet he'd get away with it, too – that's the worst part – that the crime he wants to commit the most is one without consequence. He'll think about it until his abdomen feels like it's about to burst – until his head's so hot and pounding it hurts, and he might very well blackout and give into all of it without further thought.

It would be as easy as pulling on a ski mask. He knows exactly how he’d do it – has your entire routine mapped out and knows exactly what empty building is still under construction in exactly what shortcut you go through to reach your apartment. Knows exactly which slab of still dusty concrete he could bend you over and push your little tear-stained face down against – watching the chub of your cheek squish against the cold stone as you moan on hot cries and plead out fruitless whimpers for his mercy. 

He imagines taking his sweet time with you – getting you real nice and ready for him, playing slippery patterns between your folds where he has your feet kicked apart in a spread. He'd rest his pained and pulsating meat between the valley of your asscheeks as you shake and whine – rubbing against the soft plush skin with a rumble in his chest until you're perfectly puffy and wet for him – tight cunt suckling lewdly on three of his fat gravely fingers stuffed inside it.

He knows you don't get around much – knows you're too busy and otherwise too stingy to let any random person fuck you, so he can only imagine how sweet and sensitive you'd be for him – so needy for the attention, you'd probably start cheering him on once feeling how good he stretches your cock-starved pussy out. 

He imagines your moans are real girly, too – that you'd squeal so nicely once split apart on him. And how your thighs would quake, receiving every inch of his length inside you – toes curling in your stilettos once he's completely bottomed out – nudging his fat cockhead right up against your cervix.

You’d clench on his shaft – milk him for cum – desperate for it.

And he’d give it to you – paint your walls thick with it – cream your tight little cunt so full of it you’d moan out the prettiest breathless thank you as it spills in beady pills down your thighs into your expensive power-heels – properly put in your place.

tip-jar: Kofi

[darkbitchithic]

Thinking a Lot about the Colin and audio in The Magnus Protocol

To my understanding, almost every audio clip we have heard (maybe even every?) has been recorded by the computers or various electronic devices spontaneously recording (often without the knowledge of those we are listening in on). we are hijacking someThing or someOne as they listen in and learn about our characters and through that we gain insights

But we have almost no audio of Colin, do we? some of the most recent episodes and a few posts I've seen pointing this out have really put into perspective just *how* little of Colin we've heard. He has built himself a little faraday cave, a blackout zone where no unvetted devices can come in or out. He Knows there is something going on and he is fighting tooth and nail to keep himself separate.

I so desperately want to know what his plans are and what he's thinking but We can only know as much as those listening do, and the longer we don't know, the longer They don't know either. it's such a fun little situation to be in and I'm so eager to see what is done with it!

[nn1895]

Heya, hope you're having a good holiday season and not catching any of the flus and colds going around. Speaking of, how about a Jazz/Prowl sick fic? One sick, both sick, neither sick? Whatever the muse inspires!

Best of wishes to you!

Thank you so much! I wrote two sickfics for you! This one is the very short and sweet one. The other is being edited.

Home

Jazz had two modes when he was sick: Cranky Sparkling and Perfectly Normal Oops I’m On The Floor.  Usually one first, then the other.  When integrating his sensory upgrades for infrared he’d cycled between cheerfully rebuilding his cyber-cello and whining pitifully (according to Arcee) for energon goodies and blackout curtains.

Prowl only got very quiet.  And very still.  And very twitchy.

“Outdated safety protocols,” Prowl had claimed, tucked into the corner of his office sofa, “they come on after the crash knocks out my higher processing.”

Jazz had a different opinion about why someone would want to be hidden and quiet and flinch at shadows when they weren’t at their best.  Why they would hide away in their office rather than ask someone to tow them home.  But he kept his mouth shut and his vocalizer muted.

And today it had paid off.

“Hey Prowler,” Jazz whispered, decibels only barely within audible range.  He crossed their tiny living room floor and lowered himself down beside the couch.

The lump under several thermal wraps shifted and Jazz could see just the faintest slits of blue.

“I came home,” Prowl rasped.  Frag, he sounded worn.  “I felt awful and I came home like you said I could.”

Jazz leaned his helm against the nearest lump (a shoulder?) and felt one more knot in this impossibly complex tangle of emotions start to unravel.

“Tha’s great, love.”

[haee-elia]

spence-tober: day 12 - nurse

pairing: nurse!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which your nurse husband panics when you're admitted to the emergency department

word count: 1457

warnings: lead up to pregnancy announcement, talk of hospitals and doctors and nurses, not a very accurate hospital environment

spence-tober masterlist

This was just an entirely embarrassing situation for you, you thought as you laid your head back on the gurney pillow. Not only did you manage to faint in front of your coworkers and boss, now you were being seen by your husband’s coworkers and bosses.

Now, you don’t blame your coworkers for calling 911 for an ambulance for you. After all, you did faint and were unresponsive until the parademics arrived. 

And you don’t exactly blame your husband’s coworkers either. They were just following hospital protocol, doing everything in their power to make sure you’re okay.

You just wish that things hadn’t escalated so much because you know its only some time until your worrywart husband finds out you’ve been admitted into the ED, his place of work.

He must be at lunch, you think. His coworkers, the doctors in the ED and his fellow nurses, would have already tattled on you and told him that you’ve been admitted in any other situation, so he must be busy. 

Being in the medical profession, Spencer was a worrywart. What with his big brain and his capacity to store knowledge easily, it was hard for him not to jump to every possible other conclusion for a fever and cough other than a simple cold.

Luckily, you didn’t have the propension of getting sick or injured, so it Spencer didn’t have much to worry about to worry about in that department. 

But that’s what’s going to make this situation a whole lot worse, you think to yourself, sitting up on the edge of the gurney now, legs hanging off the side. After a few assurances to the nurses, most of whom you’ve met before, you were allowed to remain in your own clothes and could forgo the gown. 

Your boss, once you called and explained the situation to him, had allowed you the rest of the day off so all you were waiting for is for your husband to barge in and to be discharged. 

“Where is she?!”

You heard the panicked voice of your husband from across the Emergency Department of the hospital. In the room you’ve been assigned, there are glass doors with some curtains as an option, an option you’ve decided to pass on as you thought it would add not needed worry for your husband.

In three large pounding steps against the linoleum floor, Spencer appeared from the hallway and rounded the corner, barging into the room.

“Oh my god,” Spencer says, finally being able to look at you. You see tears, welling in the corner of his eyes.

You reach out to him, comfortingly, “I’m okay, Spence,” Spencer dashes into your arms, carefully, “This was just all one big misunderstanding.” You try to explain.

Spencer then holds you at arm’s length, doing a once over and searching for any signs of injury on you.

“You fainted?” He asks, his tone frantic and worried.

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. It’s comforting to him and something that Diana used to do when he was a child. “Yes, but I am okay.”

In the doorway of your room, you see Emily, one of the emergency department doctors, standing there with a small tablet used for records and patient information. 

“How could you know that? Have they run tests yet? What did they say? Did you hit your head? Do you remember when you fainted? Did you blackout? Were you drinking enough water? Was it something at work?” Spencer rambles off, asking you everything his mind could be thinking of, to answer for why his wife was in the hospital.

“Reid,” Dr. Prentiss calls out from behind him, getting his attention, “Why don’t you sit down?” She offers, kindly. 

She sends a smile to both you and your husband. 

Even though you’ve never been admitted to the emergency department or the hospital in general, you have met all of your husband’s colleagues. Some of them became closer to you than others. It started as simple as bringing Spencer his forgotten lunch or perhaps take out to share in the hospital cafeteria. Then, once you got to know them, they would invite you along for girl’s night, baby showers, weddings, and birthday parties. 

There was the Chief of Patient Services, David Rossi. Chief of the Emergency Department, Aaron Hotchner. Emergency Department doctors, Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan. Spencer’s fellow nurse, Jennifer Jareau, and the darling ED receptionist, Penelope Garcia.

These people had seen you and Spencer get engaged and then married. Jennifer even helped Spencer pick out your ring! 

And now, they were also here to see your first admittance into the hospital and how much of a worrier, Spencer can be.

Your husband listens to Emily, but also his eyes zone in on the tablet in her hand, “Are those lab results?” He asks. 

With the look in his eye and if you didn’t know any better, you would think Spencer was about to snatch that tablet out of her hand. Not willing to leave anything to chance, you take his hand in yours and squeeze it tightly, giving him a smile.

You laugh at your husband’s expression, “If you had just let me explain, I would’ve told you that they took blood tests to make sure everything was fine. And it is.”

His head whips back towards you, “How would you know that? The blood tests just came back.” Spencer asks, confused.

Dr. Prentiss looks at you with a knowing smile, you two exchange grins. You know it’s driving Spencer insane that he’s the one on the outs. 

“Would you like to tell him?” She asks, a sly grin on her face.

You shake your head and look at Spencer, who’s looking at the pair of you like you’re insane, “Go ahead and show him.”

Emily walks closer to the two of you and offers the tablet to Spencer who greedily takes it. His eyes scan all the data and information, his fingers scrolling quickly as he speed reads the results.

After a few moments, Spencer looks back at you confused. “I don’t understand.” He says.

His tone is getting a little more frustrated and you pity him a little bit. You weren’t planning on telling him like this and now that you were, you didn’t want him to worry himself to death before understanding what is going on.

“Check the hCG levels,” You inform him. Emily stands off to the side, giving you two a more private moment. Out in the lobby of the ED, you can see Jennifer and Penelope peeking in to see what’s happening. Even Derek has passed your room several times more than needed in the past few minutes. 

“The hCG?” Spencer questions for a moment before you can see the wheels and cogs in his brain finally land on the right solution. 

His eyes widen and he looks at your face and then glances down at your stomach, hidden by your blouse. 

“Really?” He whispers softly. You nod and laugh at his shocked expression, laughing even more when he turns his attention back to the tablet and frantically tries to find where your hCG levels would be recorded.

His finger stops scrolling when he finally finds it. Spencer looks at the level indicator and then back at you which is when you finally see the tears in his eyes. The biggest smile on his face breaks out and he looks at you with adoring eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant?” Spencer finally says, confirming the diagnosis.

You can’t help when tears of happiness start falling down your face as well, “I took two tests yesterday,” You tell him.

His hands come up to hold your face as you continue, “I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for later today, but I got pretty dizzy at work and fainted and that’s how I ended up here. I had a sneaking suspicion why I fainted though.” 

You both share a laugh. “I swear, I was gonna tell you as soon as the doctor confirmed it.”

“Guilty.” Emily pipes in, her own eyes have some tears hidden in the corners. 

Spencer laughs and kisses your temple, then again at your cheek, nose, and then finally a sweet kiss full of joy and happiness and excitement.

“You’re pregnant.” Spencer repeats softly as he pulls back from the kiss, still his attention is fully on you.

“We’re pregnant.” You correct, soft eyes looking at the love of your life. Spencer nods in agreement and kisses you again.

“Congratulations, you two.” Emily comments before leaving the room. 

Little did you know, she would be one of the first people to tell you that in another hospital room as Spencer held your daughter, nine months later.

a/n: this might not be for people who don't like pregnancy or mention of children. that's why i put in the warnings that it does talk and lead up to the grand announcement of a pregnancy, for anyone who that might be a sensitive subject for.

[princesscallyie]

Okay, here’s the outcome of my blackout yesterday. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do the poll or ask for any input cause when I started designing I was already coming up with all sorts of ideas and scenarios that I was already attached with lol. So here’s the plot synopsis and character descriptions from what I have so far.

Alpha Delta Protocol, is about the Alpha Delta Psi fraternity, which has a strong emphasis on tradition and discipline. The frat is known for its strict hazing practices, which are led by President Damon “Diesel” Hale and House Manager Quin Lancaster. The story follows the dynamic between Damon and Quin as they manage the frat, by carrying out hazing, exerting dominance, and other punishments to the willing pledges. The story is has mature themes but it also has comedic tones.

Damon “Diesel” Hale, is Alpha Delta Psi’s President. He is known for his physical strength, charisma, and traditionalist views.He is nicknamed “Diesel” because of his relentless energy and strength to overcome any obstacle, just like a diesel engine. His favorite saying as he introduces himself is, “Like the fuel, I’m pumped up and ready to go, baby! Nowhere’s the limit!” While running the frat, he prefers to use his hands when carrying out the hazing rituals, as he believes the hand-to-skin keeps the bond between brothers more personal and connected. He also will take use of the House’s heirloom paddle. Overall, he has a friendly but assertive leadership style, with more of a focus on the brotherhood and camaraderie of the frat and making sure traditions are upheld. Though there are moments where he can get more intense and can really show who’s in charge, even being more scary than Quin. Speaking of Quin, he harbors an unrequited crush on the House Manager, being physically attracted to the shorter male and in awe of his disciplinary skills. He sometimes feels a pang of jealousy, sometimes of the way Quin commands control, and sometimes of the pledges on the receiving end of Quin’s discipline.

Quin Lancaster, is the House Manager of ADP. Though Damon might be President, it is Quin who is running the show, having the House running smoothly and in tip-top shape. Affectionately nicknamed “Manager” by the brothers as a sign of endearment and a show of respect. But if you value your life, don’t you dare call him a secretary, as that level of disrespect won’t be tolerated by him or Damon. He is known for his efficiency, organizational skills, and commanding demeanor despite his more feminine and smaller stature. He has a natural cold and dominant aura about him, and pledges immediately fall in line when he enters a room. He is not the one to play with, as his main focus is discipline and making sure the pledges stay in line. You can mostly see him walking around the House, taking notes with his tablet and stylus, recording frat activities, schedules and punishments of the pledges. While Damon was stuck with tradition, it was his idea to start the use of other implements such as crops, belts, and canes. He has a box of other freaky “tools” that he keeps stowed away for any special circumstances. This kinda freaks Damon out but also entices him, as he figures that the Manager has some kind of secretive life outside the frat. Quin is somewhat aware of Damon’s pinning as he does try to flirt with him but he turns down his advances every time. Though he does respect him and thinks highly of the President overall, even though he doesn’t explicitly show it.

The duo works surprisingly well together. With Damon’s more laid back friendly approach and the upholding of brotherhood and tradition, and Quin’s more strict and cold sense of discipline and bringing in new ideas, sometimes their ideas might cause some conflict. But they always manage to work through things to make sure the pledges are always on their toes and everything is running smoothly.

[chimkin-samich]

Ohoho the claws and the fangs, do they poke out whenever Sun is stressed/nervous/agitated? Also dang the red eyes are almost as scary as full blackout

Yup!

Whenever Sun is essentially struggling to control himself, (rage, anxiety, desperation *wink wink lol*) his claws and fangs pop out

His claws pretty much come out pretty easily but when his fangs show up he’s pretty much about to break and really struggling to hold on to his sanity

The red pupils is either evidence of his frustration or moon wanting to pop out as well, if it’s from frustration it’s a little hint of the remnants of the virus still in their system, it may not be active but pieces of it still affect them due to old protocols still being there and the virus pieces holding on to them

But other than that the virus is gone and doesn’t really have much influence over them

[rosewind2007]

Interesting point raised during a conversation with @imitationgame77 !

RESTROOMS & BATHROOMS

(in The Murderbot Diaries)

In first, second and third books in The Murderbot Diaries, sometimes Murderbot refers to the “restroom”. It does this twice (n=2) in Artificial Condition; three times (n=3) in Rogue Protocol; and in Exit Strategy it mentions restrooms five times (n=5) —the word “bathroom” is never used

(see below, right at the bottom, for quotes and context)

Then, in Exit strategy we have the surprise mention of the “bathroom”, on page 60 of my e-copy (so slap bang in the middle, and also in the middle of the five restrooms (pages 9, 22, 22, 103, 120))

Up in the room, Pin-Lee was pacing slowly and trying not to grind her teeth and Ratthi had gone to the bathroom three times.

The person using the “bathroom” is Ratthi—and this language usage struck me at the time as I am British and “restroom” strikes me as far more American English, whilst “bathroom” is less so (I would note that British people tend to use other words like the (possibly less euphemistic) “toilet”: a word which Murderbot only uses once in Network Effect and goes “ugh” afterwards)—checking in the Oxford English Dictionary seems to confirm that restroom is typically American English

I was reminded that in All Systems Red, Ratthi uses the word “arseholes” rather than “assholes” (assholes being the spelling found throughout the rest of the books)—note that Ratthi doesn’t say the word “bathroom” in Exit Strategy, but the word is used about him (being Watsonian about it, perhaps Murderbot heard Ratthi say “I’m going to the bathroom—again…”?)

But, hey—could just be a one-off?

In Fugitive Telemetry there is one mention of the restroom (n=1), and zero bathrooms (see below)

But then in Network Effect there are eight restrooms (n=8) and five bathrooms (n=5)

The first six mentions are of restrooms, on the pages listed below (pages as in my e-copy of Network Effect)

78 restroom

85 restroom

85 restroom

86 restroom

88 restroom

145 restroom

👆six uses of “restroom” all but one of these are Murderbot’s narrative (the other is the first one of the two on page 85, spoken by Ras)

The last one of those (p.145) is when Murderbot has a “rage blackout” and locks itself in the restroom…again Murderbot narrative voice:

Then who should come to join it in the restroom to try and talk it out, but…Ratthi!

Initially he talks to it, using the word “restroom” (page 149, bringing the number of restrooms to seven)

BUT when he knows he’s successfully talked it down (out):

And Ratthi calls it, not a restroom but…a bathroom! This is on page 150.

After this there are another three bathrooms on pages

152 bathroom

154 bathroom

166 bathroom

Of these, the first is spoken by Arada (page 152) then the other two are Murderbot’s narrative voice.

Then we go back to a reference to the eighth mention of a restroom on page 173 (which is Murderbot lying grumpily to Thiago, telling him Amena is in the restroom) and then finally there’s a last bathroom—which is in a HelpMe.file…bringing the total to bathroom (n=5) and restroom (n=8)

Which, given the arsehole in All Systems Red—

This makes me think that Martha Wells imagines Ratthi (and possibly others) pronouncing or using certain words in a weirdly “British” way which may influence Murderbot, and perhaps others, around him

Rather disappointingly, for the purposes of this blog, System Collapse has just three (n=3) “restrooms” and no bathrooms (or toilets) mentioned (all are in Murderbot’s narrative voice)

How this happens in a space future with Earth itself never being mentioned is beyond the scope of this little blog—perhaps it’s like the Ninth Doctor said:

“Lots of planets have a North”

See below for context for the novellas:

Artificial Condition n=2

(Tapan had told them she was sick and was going to the shuttle’s restroom compartment. They hadn’t realized what had happened until the shuttle had cleared the port.)

I thought Tapan was getting up to go to the restroom facility, but then she settled on the pads behind me, not quite touching my back.

Rogue Protocol n=3

So I listened to them a lot and pretended to be launching major investigations into incidents like who left a cracker wrapper in the galley restroom sink.

There were no private cabins, just a couple of bunks built against the bulkheads up on the control deck next to the pilot suite, and two more in cubbies behind the cargo station, next to the emergency MedSystem and a tiny restroom cubby.

And one camera was in the central hub for the port traffic control and the other in a jury-rigged hub that was now acting as station control—the two places where if something went wrong, you needed to know right away; in other words, not the mess, restrooms, or private quarters.

Exit Strategy n=5

I’d removed the blood and fluid from my clothes back on Ship, in the cleaning unit in its passenger restroom, but there hadn’t been anything on board to fix the projectile and shrapnel holes.

I’d paid for a private cabin with an attached restroom facility and automated meal delivery.

It had a bunk with a bedding packet and a small display surface, a door leading to the tiny restroom facility, a storage cabinet for personal possessions, and a meal distribution receptacle.

It was a small ship-to-ship shuttle, with only one compartment with seating along the bulkheads, and a cubby for emergency supply storage and a restroom.

It took me a minute—and I mean a full minute, my access speed was terrible—to recognize the symbol on the closed door as an archaic sign for a restroom.

Fugitive Telemetry n=1

Hopefully Aylen was in a restroom and not dead somewhere in a corridor.

NB/PS I also checked for washroom, and there didn’t seem to be any in any of the books

The short story Home (from Mensah’s POV) has one restroom, and no bathrooms or toilets mentioned

The short story Compulsory has no restrooms, bathrooms or toilets mentioned

[prowlingthunder]

found you beneath your own grave

found you beneath your own grave https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115658

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Relationship: CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Quinlan Vos Additional Tags: Blackouts, Amnesia, missing time, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no order 66, Find the Chip fic, Coruscant Undercity, Undercity Dwellers, The Worst Thing Is Missing Your Date, Jedi Nonsense Language: English Words: 2,899

Summary: Fox wakes up and doesn't know where he is. That's okay. The Guard has protocol for this. The Guard doesn't have protocol for suffocating. But Fox has a shadow looking for him.

For @foxquinweek FoxQuin Week: "I will always find you."

Hitting the following bingo cards: @clonefandomevents Fox Bingo: Chem Use, Amnesia, Free Space (Coruscant’s Depths) @clonefandomevents Corrie Bingo: Free Space (Coruscant’s Depths), No O66

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Wet Dream" - Rated E

(gorgeous manip in the top frame of the banner made by the amazingly talented @kocuria)

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: Dom/sub au, age gap (20's/40's) , cock cages, orgasm delay/denial, m! rec. oral, submissive release, teasing, light humiliation, tiny!dick Steve, size kink, dumbification, subspace

Summary: Bucky's teased him for twelve days, and Steve's taken it beautifully, going down easier each night that he's denied and tucked away into his cage. It's no wonder he's started having wet dreams, humping the bedding without any self-control.

Bucky is drawn from sleep by a cadence of soft, breathy sounds. At first, he doesn’t realize what it is that’s woken him. He’s too busy yawning and shuddering through a big stretch, eyelids fluttering from the assault of sunlight streaming in through his east-facing bedroom windows. It isn’t until he’s lying there, rubbing the phantom ache from his left shoulder and reconsidering the purchase of blackout curtains like he does every morning, that he hears it:

A soft, pleasured little “oghn,” from Steve’s side of the bed.

Bucky’s eyes shoot open and he turns his head with an incredulous expression, thinking that Steve’s over there touching himself. But he isn’t awake, and Bucky feels his cock stir as he realizes that Steve isn’t touching himself.

Steve’s never been the type to brat in obvious ways—emphasis on “obvious,” because he does have his ways. And those behaviors usually get worse the more stressed out over something he is. These past few weeks have been busy and fast-paced. Steve’s work keeps loading new patients onto his already overfull plate, and Bucky’s got his three (soon to be four) businesses to run. That means a lot of time spent apart. But Bucky’s not neglectful. He’s been domming Steve in one of the only ways he has available to him when they get less than a single waking hour to spend together each day, for day after day after day: Denial.

Steve had accepted another tease and tuck last night with nothing more than a whimper and a sniffled, ‘yessir’, that’d made Bucky’s dick attempt a second coming, even after he’d already fucked a load between Steve’s tightly-clamped and oiled thighs.

No, Bucky thinks, watching his boy in the morning’s mote-specked sunshine. Steve isn’t touching himself; he’s dreaming.

He’s on his front, face turned towards Bucky on the pillow, pretty lashes fanned out against his cheeks while he dreams. He’s breathing open mouthed and moaning quietly, a concentrated little pinch lodged firmly between his eyebrows. It looks like he’s struggling to find completion even in his dreams.

“Mmm … nnn, unngh, mmm—”

Bucky chuckles. “Poor baby,” he murmurs, turning on his empty side to watch.

He’s always had a bit of a thing for touching his subs when they’re unable to resist, and sleep is no different than a bunch of well-tied jute, in that regard. In a lot of ways it’s even better, even more of a surrender. You can’t safeword when you’re unconscious, after all. It’s something you have to consent to while knowing full well how vulnerable you’ll be. How helpless. The sheer intimacy inherent in that level of trust is breathtakingly seductive to someone like Bucky.

Bucky wore an old Army tee shirt and some boxers to bed last night, but as a matter of protocol, Steve always sleeps naked. Bucky reaches over and trails a single finger down the muscled slope of his back, warm and firm, all the way down to his absolute peach of an ass. Not squeezing it is almost painful, but Bucky refrains anyway, not wanting the moment to end quite yet.

“My little blanket hog,” he whispers fondly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Steve’s been humping the mattress, the blankets and sheets pulled over and bunched under his hips from a night’s worth of fitful sleeping. He’s squirming and moaning out the cutest, most helpless little noises, making Bucky want to eat him right up.

He turns away, because he’s gonna need arms for this.

He moves carefully to avoid waking Steve, reaching over the side of the bed to grab his prosthesis off the floor. It hums in recognition when he holds it up at the anchor site, snapping into place and all the plates giving a synchronized shiver as the system recalibrates.

He scoots over and puts his face right by Steve’s so that he can watch him wake, retracing with his flesh hand: down the slope of his back, across his sacrum, and between his cheeks. He traces over his hole and further down, to stroke fingertips absently against the plump stretch of his taint. Even that part of him is a little swollen, which makes Bucky’s heart squeeze and his dick ache at how much he knows his boy has taken from him in the past few days.

Willingly taken, Jesus. The thought of it just about does Bucky in.

He circles his fingers, using only the barest amount of pressure. Steve makes another quiet sound in his sleep, the touch obviously finding its way into whatever dream he’s having. Bucky smiles and reaches further between his legs to cup the velvety skin of his sac. His balls are warm and full, and Bucky tuts in sympathy. He lies next to him and kisses at his slack mouth while he wakes up. When Steve’s eyes finally flutter open, he looks lost for a moment.

Bucky hums. “Hey, Sugar. Looked like you were having some real sweet dreams, there.”

“Mmmh?” Steve shivers and sticks his ass back for more as he registers the hand between his legs. “M’yeah.” He sighs. “I was.” He starts moving his hips again, thrusting into the bunched sheets with more coordination and intent. “Nnn, fuck.”

Bucky pinches his inner thigh. “None of that, now. Only what I give you.”

Steve groans miserably, but after a second’s hesitation he does obey, rolling over to avoid the temptation of humping the bed any further.

Bucky slides one hand up to paw at the swell of his chest—massive, muscled, hairless—and nuzzles into his neck, inhaling the scent of Steve that’s so present after a night’s sleep. God, he loves it. “What were you dreaming about?” he asks between kisses to his neck. He hears Steve hum, feels one of his hands appear on his forearm to play along the dusting of hair there. Steve mumbles something unintelligible and lazy, probably having already let his eyes slip closed again. “Ah ah,” Bucky purrs. “Tell me.” It’s light, playful, laced with a hint of his Command to get Steve flustered.

“Mmm. Um …” Steve shudders as Bucky captures a nipple and rolls it between his fingers. “Buck, oh. Y-you.”

“Me?” Bucky chuckles. “What about me, huh?”

“Oh, I … unh, I dunno.”

He nips Steve’s neck, fingers pulse-pinching his nipple to the cadence of his words: “Uh-uh, Sleepy-head. Tell-me.”

“Mmm, was fuckin’ you,” Steve says, lazy smile playing at the edges of his mouth like he’s still dreaming it. “Only … you had a pussy?” He frowns and then giggles. “I dunno. Makes no sense. Like when you dream your dog as a cat, you know? And like, in the dream it’s a cat, but dream-you still knows it’s your dog?”

Bucky snorts. “I don’t know which is worse: the thought of you secretly being a cat person, or you secretly being straight.”

“Buck, you’re a cat pers—”

“Watch your mouth, boy,” he says, in his best Dom growl, eliciting another giggle from Steve.

“But you’ve got Alpine—"

“She’s a roommate, you little smartass.”

“Still uses a litterbox,” Steve grumbles.

Bucky ignores that and goes back to mouthing at his neck. “Anyway, now that I know how you really feel about pussies … and pussies—” Steve whines and smacks at his forearm, and Bucky grins against his skin. “Settle down, you. I’m just teasin’. Tell me more.”

“Mmn.” Steve pouts. “No.”

“‘No’?” Bucky says it warningly, letting his voice dip down into that dark and viscous register where it carries the extra weight needed to make Steve shiver pleasantly. He kisses the shell of his ear. “Want to try that again, sweetheart?”

“Nnn. I don’ remember anything else. Jus’ felt good.”

“And you were fucking me. And I had a pussy.” He lets his nail dig in at Steve’s nipple, grinning when it elicits another shiver. “Only pussy I see around here is between your legs, honey. Right behind that little thing you call a penis.”

“S’a dream,” Steve complains, blushing prettily at the jab to his cock (Bucky knows what his boy likes). “Doesn’t have’ta make sense.”

“Hm, you’re right. It sure doesn’t. But dreams can be telling sometimes.” Bucky stretches out alongside Steve’s big body, one foot hooked over his shin to keep his legs spread apart. “Look down and watch,” he murmurs. He waits until Steve has obeyed before he starts to slide his flesh hand down over that drool-worthy chest, those hardened abs, that flat belly framed by those thick obliques. All the way down to the place where silicon meets skin.

Steve’s still wearing the sweet mint green he went to bed in, though he’s got a whole slew of colors to choose from. A lot of internet shopping had happened, back when Bucky first became Steve’s keyholder. He’d found a site that would custom make any cage, any type, sized to fit; and then had a field day picking out all the pretty, soft pastel colors that the company offered. Just the fitting and the shopping and the trying-on had been exercises in the sort of delicate humiliation that Bucky knows Steve thrives on.

They’re not twenty-four-seven people, but when they do cage, they use rubber—some soft enough to give a good fondle through, others so sturdy that Bucky knows there’s no way Steve could ever dream about rubbing one out while locked. The custom fit is important, too. Most metal varieties of cock cages tend to be sized for more … endowed men, and Steve—to Bucky’s eternal delight—requires no such accommodation.

He closes his hand over Steve’s cock. “Whose is this?” he asks sweetly. “Mm?”

“Y-yours,” Steve breathes, licking his lips and staring down at Bucky’s hand. “Oh, ss’yours.”

“That’s right. And why did we decide that, hm? Can you remember that for me, big guy?”

It takes Steve several tries before he manages to stutter out a breathy, “I–I–I touch it. I t-touch it too much.”

Bucky hums in approval. “And I give you your pretty cages to help you with that, don’t I?”

“Yessir.”

“Help keep this sweet prick from getting too excited. Cause that’s when it starts getting big ideas, getting confused about what it’s for.”

Again, Steve nods distractedly, all of his attention down at the place where Bucky’s cradling his junk. “Th-thank you, Sir,” he whispers unprompted, grateful to Bucky, even after night after night of teasing and denial.

Bucky’s lips curl and his heart pretty much melts. Fuck, does he ever love this kid. “You’re welcome, baby. But then, are you supposed to be stimulating yourself in your cage?”

Steve sniffles and shakes his head. “Mm mn.”

Bucky tuts sympathetically. “It’s my fault. I thought you could handle the softer cage for bedtime. But that just lets you feel too good when you start squirming around in your sleep, huh? And once you get going, it’s real hard for you to stop.” Between Steve’s legs, he gives his handful a jostle. “S’okay. You know I don’t blame you for any of that. This big, dumb body’s got a lot of urges, that’s all.” He pecks a kiss to Steve’s ear and whispers, “You were humping the bed so much, puppy.” He snickers when this gets a mortified whine out of Steve. He tries to close his legs, but Bucky’s foot hooked over his shin prevents it. “Ah ah. Shhh. No need for that, pup. It was real pretty, I promise. I love watching you have wet dreams.” When he says the words ‘wet dreams’, he presses against the soft tip of the cage, dipping inside the hole with the edge of his thumb.

Steve’s breath hitches as it touches his slit. “Oh …”

“Mm. And it was a wet dream, wasn’t it?” Bucky draws his thumb away, a glistening thread of precum connecting it to the cage. “Lookit you. You’re leaking, honey.”

“Bucky.”

He lets go, sliding his hand up to rub over Steve’s pubic bone, just above where he knows he really wants it. His hips jump and shudder, a sad noise escaping him at the loss of the touch on his caged dick. “So,” Bucky says, amused. “You’re dreaming about fucking your Sir’s pussy. That’s an interesting one, especially since we both know you haven’t wormed that bitty clitty into a pussy in so long. Are you sure it even remembers how?”

“Oh.” Steve’s obvious embarrassment makes him beautiful. The pink flush that began on his face is now creeping steadily down his neck. Soon it’ll be to his shoulders, then his chest, and Bucky loves when Steve gives him a full-tit blush.

He trails his fingers lazily over the space between Steve’s belly button and his cock, watching the way all the fine muscles in his lower belly quiver as he tries to hold still. Inside the cage, his cock gives a noticeable twitch. “You’re real worked up this morning, huh?”

“S-sir,” Steve agrees, nodding, wetting his lips and glancing at Bucky’s face hopefully. “Please. Please.”

Bucky chuckles. He loves to see Steve so frustrated, and deep down, Steve loves to feel that way. It’s one of the best ways to help him go down. He’s on his way now. The lack of language is one hint, but if Bucky needed another, it’s right there on his face. One good look in his eyes, and Bucky knows they’re getting close. All that blue, thinned down to nothing but slivers, pupils eating up his irises as his brain prepares for the dump. He just needs more of a push.

Bucky turns further into him, giving him a bit more of his weight, more of his leg slotted between his thighs. Steve tries to hump him, but Bucky pulls back each time until Steve whimpers and the behavior stops. “Shhh,” he soothes, dipping down to kiss him. He’s soft but insistent, inviting himself inside and taking his own sweet time about it, really relishing the feel of their mouths slotted together, the press and play of their lips. And Steve’s like a goddamn stick of butter: melts at body temp, spreads like a dream.

“I wanna take you down, sweetheart,” Bucky tells him quietly. “That sound good to you?” Steve gives a dumb little ‘uh huh’ of a moan, nodding eagerly. Bucky smiles and nips his lip. “Hey now, I might keep you there for a while, maybe all afternoon.” He’s not asking so much as informing, but he knows that Steve is capable of speaking up for himself when needed—even when he’s on the precipice of losing his few remaining brain cells like he’s about to do right now.

Today is Steve’s first day off in almost fourteen, and even though Bucky has opinions on that, he’s still gonna grab some iota of consent, because he doesn’t want to hear his sub bitching about a wasted Sunday six hours down the line. “Not gonna make you do anything but feel,” he promises softly, brushing their lips together. “Alright sweetheart? Does that sound like fun?”

Steve exhales shakily, nodding. “Yes Sir.”

“Ooh, ‘Sir’. Somebody’s tryin’ to start the day out in my good graces.”

“Mmyeah.”

Bucky chuckles and goes back to kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. He pinches and rolls them, one and then the other, until they’re drawn into tight, sensitive peaks. “Do you need to cum, Stevie?” He hears Steve’s heavy swallow pass through his throat and feels him nodding his head.

“Uh huh.”

“Hmm. Yeah, you must be aching by now. This big ol’ body of yours. It just needs to cum all the time, doesn’t it?”

Steve whimpers and nods again, sighing out a shaky little ‘yeah’ that Bucky absolutely loves.

He loves everything about Steve, of course, but there’s just something so special about how he gets when he’s been denied for a while. He gets so desperate for it, so helpless in his need for physical release. Ultra-focused and yet dumbed down by it at the very same time. There’s nothing in the world like a six. Someone who actually needs what Bucky has to give. At this point, he’s quite sure that Steve’s ruined him for anyone else in the future.

That doesn’t exactly matter though, because—unbeknownst to Steve—Bucky’s got about sixty thousand dollars worth of forever hiding in the back of his watch drawer, just waiting for the right time.

He hovers over Steve and gives him a kiss, slow and coaxing, licking at the seam of his lips to get into the heat of him. Steve lets him in, of course, and Bucky curls his fingers into the give of his waist in an approving squeeze. He pulls back and looks down. Steve’s dazed, blue eyes blink upwards, his lips still parted, a flush high up on his cheeks. He looks made of sunlight, so precious. Bucky smiles softly. “Alright, Angel. How many days has it been?”

“... Since?” Steve keys into his tone of voice and perks up. He starts to look hopeful, and when Bucky waggles his eyebrows at him, he exhales in a rush, a smile breaking out over his face. “Twelve,” he says. “Fuck, thank you. Twelve!”

Bucky snickers and rolls over to grab the key from its spot on the bedside table. When he comes back, he sits between Steve’s spread legs and pulls him down in the bed, until his thighs are draped over Bucky’s knees and his ass is all but in his lap. He unlocks the cage and removes it gently, setting the pieces aside. Steve’s dick is already reacting, soft but thickened, the head fattening up underneath the foreskin.

Bucky pushes it up against his belly, thumb dipping down to trace along the seam of his heavy balls. “Look at these puppies,” he murmurs. “So full. Are they full, baby?”

The muscles in Steve’s thighs keep flexing as he fights not to squirm. “Y-yeah.”

“Mmm.” Bucky holds one testicle between his fingers and rolls it, massaging gently and teasing, “More balls than cock on you—ain’t that just perfectly fitting for a stubborn little hothead like you?”

“Buck,”

“Tell me how they feel,” he purrs, his Command laced through the words just enough to help Steve sink a little more.

“Th-they feel … heavy,” Steve whispers. “Hot n’ … n’ tight.”

“I’ll bet. Twelve whole days since you’ve busted a nut.” Steve whimpers and Bucky tickles the plump stretch of skin behind his balls. “And how long since I really wrang out your prostate good and proper?”

“Oh. Uh, um …” his throat bobs and his eyes slip shut as Bucky pets him. “Uhm … m-maybe three?”

“Three weeks.” Bucky whistles lowly and cups his taint. “No wonder you look swollen back here, boy.”

He can’t deny that he isn’t a complete letch of an old man, because he loves to see Steve blush (or in this case, blush harder) at being called “boy”—as if Bucky’s a full fledged man and Steve is only halfway there. It’s a stretch, but there are things that’ve been further from the truth.

“Aand,” he angles his fingers in. “What about release?”

A little wrinkle of concentration appears between Steve’s eyebrows as he tries to generate useful thought in his brain. It’s adorable. “I … I don’t kno—oh!”

“Don’t know?” Bucky simpers. He’s curled his fingers in behind Steve’s balls, pressing to get at that vulnerable spot that can sometimes trigger his releases. It won’t right now. He hasn't sunk enough for it yet. “Don’t lie to your Dom, Sweetiepie. You’re really tryin’ to tell me you don’t remember the last time you went all soft n’ useless for me? The last time you went ass up n’ wet all over yourself?” He hushes Steve’s embarrassed keen, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “That’s okay, Stevie. I remember. I remember all of ‘em.”

Release isn’t something Bucky’d encountered in a partner before Steve. Not every sub has them, and it’s not something they can control. A rush of spasms and body fluids, dump of brain chemicals twice as strong as those brought on by typical subdrop. Such a deep response only really happens for sixes—Maybe some fives, if they’re with the right dom. It is … intensely private; something people tend to either fetishize, or else weirdly disdain.

Steve’s always been embarrassed of his, but that’s something Bucky’s been working to break him of. There is nothing more arousing, more primal, more flattering, than having a sub’s body signal submission in that way. Bucky had shot up to the freakin’ stratosphere of domspace the first time it’d happened, unused to the stimulus. He’d been useless for a bit, and it was just lucky that they’d been in a club at the time. The DM had stepped in and taken care of Steve until Bucky was capable again.

“It’s been just about five weeks since you gave me one,” he says, anticipating the distressed whimper that comes out of Steve. He rubs over his lower belly soothingly. “I know, I know. S’been too long, huh big guy? All that pressure building up. You know what the doctor said.”

“Buck,”

“But you’re always at work, Sweetheart. Hell, I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. I barely have.”

“M’right here, jerk.”

Bucky pinches his inner thigh, but there’s little heat to it, just the familiar griping of their relationship. He’s been on Steve for months to find a less demanding job. Steve doesn’t get paid enough and the people at his work take advantage of his good nature. (Bucky had figured out, very early on in their contract, that Steve was one of those subs who pushed themselves too hard in their professional endeavors, and then needed to have the resultant stress dommed out of them.)

Bucky grumps, “You don’t listen to your Sir when he tells you to set boundaries, to clock out on time, to come home.” He plays idly with Steve’s cock and balls as he scolds him, pinching lightly here and there. “How am I s’posed to take care of you proper?”

“Mmn … n-not my fault,” Steve slurs. His eyes are closed and the curl of his mouth looks none too chastised. “S’still work. Somebody’s gotta help the patients, n’ I still gotta—”

Bucky flicks his balls. “It’s still bratting. Don’t think I don’t see right through you, Rogers. Like you don’t have twenty coworkers who could pick up that slack if you refused to.Excuses.”

Steve’s insistence on doing the right thing has always been his own little way of shirking authority, of misbehaving until it gets him what he really needs: someone to step up and put him in his place. Bucky has—exasperatedly but enthusiastically—been filling that role for the past eighteen months. He knows Steve’s needs like he knows his own, and he knows his body almost better than his own.

That’s why he’s let him out of the cage and why he’s all but got Steve’s ass in his lap right now. It’s not so much that Steve needs an orgasm, but that he needs to be dropped good and thorough, a milking, maybe even a full release, if Bucky can manage to work one out of him. Steve’s body doesn’t like to give those up, and it’s less predictable.

“I miss you, honey,” Bucky coos at him. Other than some shallow bossing around at bedtime, he hasn’t had any opportunity to care for his boy these past few weeks (and seriously: fuck the underfunded and stretched thin structure of the V.A.). “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says quietly, squeezing Steve’s inner thigh muscles deeply. “You listening?”

“Yes Sir,” Steve whispers.

“I’m gonna touch you, play with you a bit. Make you feel good.”

“Cum?” Steve asks hopefully, and Bucky snickers.

“Edge,” he says, giving Steve another pinch when he wiggles and whines. “Hush, now. I told you: I want to play with you for a while. I’m gonna get you so worked up, baby.”

“Hurts,” Steve whimpers, moping over it. “Bucky.”

“Shh.” Bucky tickles his sac. “Yeah, it’ll ache, but I’ll drop you so good that you won’t even be in your body to feel it, after a while.” Though there’s a great deal of intersection, the things that bring the best sexual climaxes aren’t always the same as the things that bring the best sexual submissions. Bucky watches as a pleased shiver runs through Steve’s body at the promise of a good drop. They both know which of the two is more important for someone like Steve. On the bed in front of him, Steve visibly starts to relax a little more. Bucky smiles and massages his thighs. “Mmhm, that’s it. It’s been hard for you lately, hasn’t it?”

“Mmm. Buck. Yeah. … Been so—mmm—so stressed.”

Bucky coos and rubs up along either side of his pelvis, digging his thumbs in at the crease of his groin. “You gonna try and go down easy for me this time?”

“Please,” Steve whimpers sadly. “Buck, I do. I’m … I want to.”

“Shh sh sh. I know, honey. I know you do. And you know you’re my good boy. Always.”

It’s often hard for Steve to get past the barrier of his natural stubbornness, to let himself go soft enough to shed that shallow, false dominance he wears around like a shield. It’s people like Steve that Bucky designed his clubs for: high level doms and subs who aren’t partnered and want to get their kicks met somewhere safe, sexy, and affordable.

Steve was assessed high needs in middle school, and while general designation is socially common knowledge after puberty, one’s level within that designation is not. One through six, or switch. Your doctor knows, your parents know, you tell your boyfriend or girlfriend, maybe a few close platonic friends—more people, if you’re typical. But people who are high needs don’t tend to go around bragging about it. Bucky knows firsthand the awkwardness of having to explain to someone new that you fall on the far end of the spectrum, just like he knows that he’s one of only a few people with whom Steve has ever entrusted his status as a six.

Bucky pets his skin and feeds him quiet rumbles and purrs, compliments and directions, calling him beautiful and giving him easily obtainable goals, most of them simple orders to hold still in one way or another. “Keep your eyes closed,” he murmurs. “Just focus on me touching you. Isn’t that nice? Yeah Sweetheart, I know, I know.”

Steve is a gorgeous human being who tends to turn heads wherever he goes. He’s young (27) and beautiful, and if Bucky weren’t so confident in his own masculinity at his advancing age (41), he might actually be in danger of developing a complex. Because Steve is the one whom most people notice first when the two of them walk into a room together. His size draws the eye and his features keep the interest, with his Botticelli face and the type of body that few people are willing to work hard enough for. He really does look cut from marble, muscular and strong and textbook attractive. Steve’s is a beauty that pretty much smacks you in the face. And the absolute sweetest part of it all, is that he really doesn’t seem to be aware of it. A big, sweet, dumb blond.

Now how was Bucky ever supposed to not eat a boy like that up?

And then there’s the pièce de résistance: the fact that between his legs, Steve is small. Not tragically so, but compared to the rest of him it’s a striking difference. He’s got this surprisingly little dick nestled between his beefy thighs, hooded and delicate, propped against the generous pillow of his balls. Whenever Bucky sees his gorgeous juxtaposition of a body all laid out on a bed like this, he can’t help but feel like the man was made just for him.

Especially that sweet little cock.

He groans under his breath as he touches it, letting his fingertips drag over the soft skin. “Spread those legs a little wider for me, doll.”

Steve complies, hips flexing and scooching his butt down the bed another inch.

Under Bucky’s scrutiny and his glancing touches, Steve’s little dick twitches and jerks with interest. “Heere it comes,” Bucky murmurs, taking it between his fingers and stroking at the tip, working the little wrinkle of foreskin where it still covers the head. He dips his thumb inside and swirls it around, circling the tip of the glans. It’s all slick and gliding from the precum he’s already giving up, and Bucky rumbles, pleased. “Well lookit that. You always wet up so easy for me, dontcha baby?”

“Fuhh-ck,” Steve slurs. “Buckee.”

He’s been going down easier with each day that Bucky continues to deny him, the surrender of giving up his sexual pleasure turning him into the kind of soft and pliant sub that Bucky’s always known he could be. It just takes a little extra coaxing for Steve, a little extra time, his big body and stubborn brain fighting the process harder (and needing it more) than most people Bucky’s dated in the past. Being with Steve has, without doubt, made Bucky a better dom.

Steve’s prick slowly thickens in Bucky’s hand, even though Bucky’s barely touching him. “Well look at you, big guy,” he purrs. “Fattening up real nice for me, aren’t you?”

Steve whines and squirms in pleasure, and Bucky teases him a little more with his words and his hands, telling him how pretty his little dick is, how cute. Bucky loves humiliating Steve over his size—both his “big dumb body” and his “pretty little prick.” Of course, it’s always that special brand of sweet and tender humiliation that they have between them, anything rougher than that being outside of Steve’s limits. Bucky’s boy is so sensitive, needs to be handled so gently. Gently, but firmly. And even with all the teasing, Bucky’s always gone to great lengths to make sure Steve knows what an absolute dream he is.

“Thought I told you to close your eyes,” he chides, when he looks up and sees Steve peeking at him. Steve makes a cute little squeak of a sound and his eyes slip shut, and Bucky smiles. “Thatta boy.” He starts to stroke him off lightly, only using his two fingers and thumb to work the foreskin in a gentle motion. Steve inhales deeply and his cock fills out the rest of the way. “There you go,” Bucky murmurs. Completely hard like this, Steve’s a little more than half Bucky’s size. “So pretty, honey.”

Underneath his boxers, Bucky’s own dick is chubbed up and eager for more, but he ignores it. He’s got plans for himself later. Smoothing his metal hand over Steve’s belly, he jerks him off slowly but steadily, until the foreskin is drawn down and the shiny pink head of him peeks through on each stroke, precum getting on Bucky’s fingers and making everything nice and wet. “Tell me when you’re close,” he whispers, and a few minutes later Steve’s whispering back,

“Close—oh,”

“Shhh.” Bucky lets go of his dick and rubs his inner thighs to get him to calm down, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple and the shine of those lips that he’s licked and bitten pink. His blond hair is all rumpled from sleep and his skin is golden in the stream of morning sunlight coming through the bedroom windows. He’s so incredibly, painfully beautiful; looks like a flipping Greek god, an Adonic youth, a spoil of war. Steve arouses in Bucky every instinct he’s ever had to take and dominate and own. Sometimes he really wonders what an old asshole like him did to earn such a perfect boy.

“Love you, Stevie,” he murmurs, going back to stroking him. “Being so good. Remember, you just tell me when. That’s your only job right now. That’s all you have to do. Don’t gotta think or worry about aanything else.” Steve seems to melt into the bedcovers at hearing this, which is, of course, the entire point. Bucky knows exactly how to talk to his boy to bring him down into the absolute best headspace. “Good,” he praises lowly. “So good for your Dom, sweetheart. So sweet to let me play with this little cock however I want.”

The second peak comes quickly, and even Steve seems surprised by it when he manages to choke out a quiet little “... close,” after only a few seconds.

He lasts a little bit longer on the third. Bucky keeps his grip very light and gets a few full minutes of stroking in before Steve’s breathing picks up and he gasps out another “close!”

Bucky lets go, humming his approval for Steve to hear and rubbing the crest of his groin on either side, all over his waxed-smooth pubic mound and the place where his thighs meet his body. “Suuch a good boy.” He watches Steve recover, face pinked after the difficulty of that third edge, the swell of his chest rising and falling as he regains his breath.

And fuck, those tits. They’re big and beefy, heaving and flushed and just barely starting to shine from perspiration. Bucky can’t keep himself from touching, leaning forward to grope each thick pec, and then pinch and pluck at his nipples. He’s so swollen and puffy there, looks like he just came from benching two-fifty at the gym. Bucky lets his nails drag down the right side as he pulls back. “You’re doing beautifully,” he praises, even though they’ve barely started the edging. It isn’t uncommon for Bucky to bring Steve close and back him off from orgasm dozens of times in one session. He doesn’t plan to keep this going too much longer, though. He just wants to get him to cry a little before they get up to start their day.

He starts stroking again, still using those same, easy touches; gentle and gliding. When Steve utters his next, “close,” Bucky stops stroking but doesn’t remove his hand, letting Steve’s cock rest, wet and throbbing, inside the loose curl of his fist. He tuts and fondles him while they wait. “Ooh, honey. I could feel that one.” He gently traces the vein on the underside, up to the frenulum and his drawn down foreskin. He eases it back up over the head, and even hard like this, it almost covers him. Bucky thumbs over it, smearing the next blurt of precum around. “So pretty,” he murmurs.

“Please, Sir.” Steve’s voice sticks a little bit in his mouth, like he needs a drink of water, and he licks his lips before he says again, “Please, lemme cum.”

Bucky hums as if he’s actually considering it (he isn’t). “Maybe,” he purrs. He lets go of his cock and strokes his balls instead, one hand holding the full weight of his sac while the other feathers light touches over the delicate skin. Steve’s got big, tight balls that always look plump and pulled up close to his body, but especially so when he’s been deprived of an orgasm for a few days. And right now, they’re coming up on twelve days. “Just think,” Bucky murmurs, “think of all the cum that’s backed up in here right now. Cause you cum a lot, Stevie, don’t you?”

Steve whimpers and gives a sad little nod.

Bucky grins and makes a mocking sound of pity. “Yeah, poor baby. They must be sore, huh? So full, so hot and tight. Are they, Honey? All hot n’ tight?”

“Please, yes, please.”

“Just aching to get some release.” He circles lazily around the shape of his balls underneath the skin, one side and then the other. “And you want to cum so bad. I don’t blame you.” He titters and lets go of his sac, because that’s a major erogenous zone for Steve, and Bucky knows he can’t handle having his dick stroked and his balls played with at the same time without going off. “It’s not healthy,” he teases, mock sympathy in his voice as he starts gently stroking him off again. “A boy your age not not gettin’ a good nut out on the regular. If not a couple times a day, then at least once every other day.” Steve whimpers and Bucky grins evilly and pretends to forget. “How many days has it been, again?”

“Twuh–twelve, ssir,”

Bucky sucks his teeth sympathetically. “Oh, that’s right. Twelve. Hmm.” Abruptly, he starts to jerk him off a little harder than he has been doing, giving him more pressure, rubbing at the underside of the head on each upstroke. Steve’s breathing hitches and he tenses up like he thinks this is going to be it: he’s finally going to get to come.

Bucky slows back down to almost nothing, grip loose once again, and Steve makes a sound like a dying cat. Bucky, who lives for getting sounds like that out of Steve, all but purrs in pleasure, feeling high. “I want you to know,” he says, slowly and delicately, making the words into hushed, sweet and deadly things, “that I’m not gonna let you cum this morning.”

He soaks up the devastated little shudder that travels throughout Steve’s body as he processes that, the way his brow gets a disbelieving little pinch in it and then smoothes out with dawning realization that Bucky means what he says. The fight his body wages with his mind to accept it. “Nngh,” he whimpers pitifully. “Puh–please.”

“No, baby.”

“Please, please. Please …” He’s not really begging, is the thing. He tosses his head and fists the sheets, repeating the ‘please’ several times over, helpless and mournful. It’s his way of surrendering to it, his way of accepting what his dominant wants for him, what his dominant is doing to him. The second that Steve accepts that he’s feeling so good and that he’s not going to be given the relief he wants, that Bucky is going to be the one to decide, is the second he really, visibly tips into subspace. “Ohhgn …”

Bucky’s cock throbs angrily as he watches it happen. One second Steve is tense, and the next second he’s just … not. Goosebumps pop up all along his arms and legs, his body going unnaturally still for a few seconds, before it shivers loose into a pile of molten Steve on the bed. Bucky leans forward to cup his cheek, smiling when Steve presses his face into it. “That’s a good boy,” he murmurs fondly. “Juust like that.”

Steve sobs—just once, just a tiny hitch in his breath—and tears well up at the corners of his eyes. One of them breaks and rolls down and hits Bucky’s metal finger, and that’s about the exact moment when Bucky hits domspace.

People say you shouldn’t compare domspace to doing drugs, but Bucky’s done some drugs, and he knows it is exactly like being high. The best high you ever had, but sexual, and focused. Bucky feels charged and euphoric, completely zeroed into his sub and his reactions. He thumbs away Steve’s tears and gets his flesh hand back on his dick, feeling elated. “Okay sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Tell me when you’re ready for another.”

Steve whimpers, and they get back to it.

Steve is a useless mess by the time ten rolls around, and after number fifteen Bucky starts to worry that Steve won’t remember to verbalize when he’s close. Not because he’s trying to disobey, but because he’s just so far under. Wanting to end things on a good note, Bucky stops edging him after they narrowly avert crisis at sixteen, Steve’s face red and covered in tears, his body shaking while he cries. Bucky lies out on top of him and kisses him all over his face and neck and shoulders until he’s calmed down some.

Steve is still in his head, very dumb and pliant and happy, even once his cock goes soft. Bucky, buzzing with his own high, proceeds to take care of his boy in all the other ways that also matter. He feeds Steve water and a piece of chocolate straight from his tongue, puts him in the shower and washes him. He bends him over the bed and lubes him up and plugs him with the big, squishy day plug.

He has Steve lie on his back with his head out over the edge of the mattress and softly feeds him his cock. "Take it ... there you go ... jus' like that, oh ... good boy." Steve's gag reflex, normally just as stubborn as the rest of him, always goes dormant when he's down; his mind turning into soft, sticky molasses, and his body following suit. He goes lax and soft, easily accepting Bucky's thick cockhead past his parted lips, over his tongue and soft palate. His throat even feels relaxed when Bucky presses all the way in, his balls smushing against Steve's face and his hand gently massaging the front of his neck. "Takin' me so good, doll," Bucky praises, and he softly fucks his face in measured thrusts until he feels his orgasm coalesce at the base of his spine, down into his balls, pulling up into his core, electric and hot. "Oh yeah," he groans quietly, sighing as he comes down his boy's throat. Steve takes it like a champ, and Bucky pulls out and holds his jaw shut, petting him soothingly. “Shhh. Swallow it now, baby. Lemme see that throat working.”

Steve does. Bucky collapses onto the bed next to him and lies there, toying with Steve’s tight and full balls until he feels himself come back down a bit from domspace. “How you doing, babe?” he says from down by Steve’s shins.

“Mmm.”

“Still down?”

“Hhhn.”

Bucky chuckles and pats the top of Steve’s thigh. “Okay big guy. Okay.” He heaves himself up to go and find some sweats to throw on. They've got a nice, long, relaxing day ahead of them, and he's really looking forward to it.

Masterlist

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[anne8510]

The Perfect Balance

Tony and Peter have been together for about 6 months now and Peter has moved into the penthouse. They sleep better when they are next to each other, less nightmares and night terrors and more actually rest. They have kept it a secret for a while only telling May, Happy and Ned. Three months into their relationship Tony took Peter to the security office with Happy had him meet all of the security staff so there would never be any issues with Peter having full access to everything in the tower and all of Tony's properties world wide. Peter now has a badge that is Alpha2 and the only one that is equal to Tony's. Friday allows Peter access to everything by biometrics even if he doesn't have a badge and this includes Tony's lab. This is huge for Tony, no one has ever had unlimited access to his lab but he trusts Peter with his life and he likes having him by his side as often as possible.

Today is Friday and Tony is in the lab working on making the Spider-Man suit a stealth suit and he has out the lab into blackout mode knowing it won't affect his boyfriend's access but will keep other interruptions away.

As Peter walks through the front doors of the Tower, he waves at the security officers at the desk and heads to the the private elevator. Once he is inside Friday welcomes him home and tells him there are visitors outside the lab waiting to talk to Boss but can't because of the blackout protocol. Peter hums to himself and tells Friday thanks for the heads up. He then asks about how Tony has been through out the day and Friday reports that after finishing meetings in the morning he has been in the lab for 4 hours but has managed to eat all the snacks Peter left for him before he left for classes which makes Peter smile. They have been working on Tony taking better care of himself and to hear he remembered to eat while he was working is a big step.

When Peter gets off the elevators he steels himself to see who is waiting in the hall and takes a few deep breaths when he sees Pepper and Rhodey. Rhodey is on his phone looking fairly relaxed and Pepper is the exact opposite looking pissed and tapping her nails on the keypad on the lab door. Rhodey is first to see Peter and gets up to greet him "Hey Pete how's it going?" "Hi Rhodey. I'm good how about you? What brings you down to the science level? " asks Peter with a smirk." "Just thought I could use a catch up since I finally got the higher ups off my back for our latest political moves." Peter smiled "Tony will be happy to see you and I can give your leg braces a look over while you're here if you want." Rhodey laughed and nodded to the offer. Peter had visited him several times while he was recovering from his injury and helped Tony make his braces. Rhodey knew that after the shit show in both Germany and Siberia Peter had been the one who continued to show up for Tony and Peter was the one Tony found the most comfort in now.

Pepper took this moment to clear her throat and address them both "As much as this reunion is great, it's probably not a good intern day, kid. Tony isn't letting any of us into the lab and the access codes have all been changed since I was last here. Friday isn't really acknowledging me either so probably best if you go home today." Peter took a sharp breath in and moved towards the lab door, "oh I am not here as an intern anymore, I live here and Tony has placed the lab on a blackout protocol which locks out everyone except me. You missed a lot in the last few months Miss. Potts." Peter put his hand on the keypad and the lab doors automatically open, Peter turned to look at the two visitors, "Follow me if you would like to talk to Tony but please keep your voices down until he knows we are here. He doesn't need to have a panic attack thinking there is an attack on the Tower."

As Peter walked into the lab he saw Tony working on the spidey suit at his desk, head down and in the zone. Peter waves his hand and Friday lowered the rock music to a much lower level. This sparked Tony's attention and he looked up to see Peter and smiled widely. "Hi sweetheart. Is it 4 already?" Peter nodded and walked over to give Tony a kiss on the cheek. "Yup 4 on the dot and I brought the best sandwiches in Queens for your next snack." Tony laughed "Thanks love. I am a little hungry now that you mention it but I did finish all the fruit you left me. Thank you for bringing it down here before you left this morning." Peter looked softly at Tony, "Of course. You have some visitors who I let in with me."

Tony looked up to see the two standing near the door while Peter was getting the food ready and starting up his own work. Tony grinned widely when he saw Rhodey, "Honeybear it has been too long. I hope you have some real leave from those government dictators and can stay a few days." Rhodey nodded, "Got a week or two to hang around and annoy you... and Pete is seems." Tony looked over at Peter as the younger man handed him his sandwich and a bottle of water. "Yes Peter will definitely be here too." "Thank you Pete."

Tony took a bite of his sandwich and turned to Pepper, "and I can only assume you have some important paperwork that needs signing to get you all the way down here Miss Potts." Pepper finally unfroze and continued to walk further into the lab. Frustrated she slammed her paperwork down on the table and almost growled "What is going on here Tony? My access codes don't work, Friday is ignoring me and you just called your intern sweetheart!?"

Peter was now up and moving to sit in on the stool next to Tony with his own sandwich in hand. He boldly glared at Pepper and put his hand on Tony's arm to ground him and reassure him he was still by his side. Tony sighed heavily, put his hand over Peter's and gave it a squeeze to say thank you and then looked at Pepper. She had been on the west coast for almost a year and she made no contact with him unless it was business related. Tony spoke firmly "Your access codes work for the parts of the building you are allowed to be in, which is no longer this lab or the penthouse. Those are my personal spaces and now Peter's as well. Peter and I are in a romantic relationship and have been for months now. He has officially moved in and has Alpha2 clearance, the exact same as me, not only here but in all my properties and businesses."

Pepper was furious and could barely get her words out, "What are you doing Tony!? Have a fling. Fine. But you can't give any old kid that kind of access or trust. This is ridiculous you are blinded by a good lay, just great and I am going to pay the price."

Tony steeled himself and spoke with a furious tone that sent a shiver down Pepper's back, "Don't you ever speak that way about Peter again. He is by far the best possible thing I have found in my entire life and I am beyond lucky he sees me as worthy to stand by his side. I trust him with my business, with my secrets and with my life, it is much more than I have ever trusted anyone. You fucked off to the west coast because I was too much to deal with, too many problems but I am not a problem to Peter. And Peter was here when no one else was when I was at my lowest and he brought me back. You and I are not even friends anymore, you are the CEO of this company and that is as far as our communication will go."

Pepper glared at Peter who had finished his sandwich and was now causally rubbing circles on Tony's hand trying to ward off any increasing panic. "Fine whatever when this blows up don't come to me to fix any of it." She tries to hand Tony the paperwork but he doesn't make a move to take it and she pales at the realization he doesn't want to be handed anything from her anymore.

Peter reached over plucked the papers from her hand and placed them in front of Tony. He pushed out of his chair and walked over to his desk to grab a pen. While he was walking back he grabbed a scrap piece of metal from one of the lab tables. "Here is a pen Tony," he says softly and hands the man the pen as he is finishing up reading the contracts. Tony takes the pen without even glancing at Peter. Pepper scoffs at the interaction. Peter is flipping the metal in his hands and finally stands straight in front of Pepper slowly his starts to bend the metal with his bare hands until it goes from a straight line to a small circle in his hands. He looks Pepper in the eye, "Listen I know this is probably a lot to take in all at once and I would be sore if I lost Tony so I don't blame you for not being my biggest fan but I'm not going anywhere and we are happy. It also might serve you well to remember that I am not your average college student which is why we get each other like no one else does."

As he is speaking he throws the metal ball he has crushed in his hands at the wall where it makes a hole in the concrete. Tony looks up at the noise then looks around at the lab tables then looks to Peter with his eyebrows asks what was that?" Peter smirks and says "You can call T'challa and let him know the vibranium did not hold up to my spidey strength." Rhodey now is intrigued and walks over to pick up the metal ball from the floor "Vibranium ... Pete that makes you stronger than Cap. You could break the shield." Both Tony and Peter tense slightly at the mention of Captain America, Peter places a hand on Tony's shoulder and looks to Rhodey with a smile, "That's exactly what it means and I would enjoy that rematch very much."

Tony pushes the signed paperwork over to Pepper who is frozen and pale looking at the dent in the walls. She is not sure how she had momentarily forgotten the boy was Spider-Man but now she sees how he is standing at his full height radiating strength and protectiveness over Tony while Tony is looking at Peter as if he hung the moon.

Tony takes Peter's hand and gives it a quick kiss turns back to Pepper, "Like Peter said we are happy and we plan on staying that way for a very long time. If there isn't anything else.. there are some schedules and new legal updates Friday has forwarded you. Peter's college schedule will reflect my own schedule now, meaning all business trips over a day long will have to be on one of his breaks or in the summer. I will be only doing work for R&D during any of his exam weeks - no meetings and the week of the Fourth of July we will be abroad and should not be bothered. I think that's all I have for you right now Miss Potts."

Pepper was stunned, Tony never so much as remembered her birthday but yet he was arranging his entire life around Peter's academics. "I'm not sure any of this scheduling will work, this is business and it happens fast you have to be available for emergencies and meetings. You can't just kick back with your boy toy. What will I tell the board of directors!?"

"This is the schedule that I will be following and that is my final word. You may be CEO but I'm still the owner of this company and I won't go to any meetings and deal with any emergencies unless I see fit. And you can tell the board I am with my partner and they can shove it. Any other issues please email me. This floor is no longer accessible to you once you have left today." Pepper stomped out of the lab after grabbing her papers and yelled "You are going to ruin everything you have built Tony!" Before the door closed Tony yelled back "I already did that!" And he looked over at Peter who was already staring back and him, "I am putting it back together now." Peter blushed slightly and brought Tony into a hug. "I'm sorry for the things she said sweetheart." Peter sighed and kissed Tony on the nose "It's ok Tony, nothing I didn't expect."

Rhodey cleared his throat and walked back to sit down at the table, "So that was not fun in the least. What's next on the agenda my nerdy lab friends?" The two other men chuckled and Peter picked up his tools, walking towards Rhodey. " Well I 'm going to check out your braces, start scanning Friday, then Chinese for dinner before I have to patrol. Think you could keep this one company for a while?"

Tony huffed "I'm not a charity project and why wouldn't he want to spent the night with his long lost best friend?"

"Oh I think I have some free time to listen to your ego for a bit ya know since it comes with Chinese food." Rhodey winked at Peter.

Tony threw his hands up and raised his voice a bit, "Wait wait wait! You aren't going to say anything about us being together? No comments? No questions? What gives Platypus?"

Rhodey laughed, "I already assumed you two were together. The only surprise is that Pete has moved in and his clearance level. Not that either of those is a bad thing in my opinion." Rhodey looked from Tony to Peter who were both wearing confused looks, he sighed and muttered "Two geniuses just the same. Look while I have been away I call to check in and if you are busy Tones or have a protocol up I don't insist that Friday push my call through. However, Friday does give me a current update at how you are and what is happening. After Germany I got a lot of Boss has locked himself in the lab and is not accepting any calls but then Friday would say but Mr Parker is due to come at 4 and he will have access to the lab and he usually brings dinner for Boss. Then it became Boss is in the lab but Mr. Parker is currently persuading him to get dinner and go to sleep. And so on, I knew Peter had it handled and once you started returning the calls Tones I could hear it in you voice that you had settled a little and weren't so lost. If you are looking for my opinion - I approve, not that either of you need it."

Tony was up on his feet and walked over to his best friend hugging him tightly he whispered a thank you. Then he cleared his throat, gave Peter a kiss and head towards the door. "I'm going to go take a shower and I'll have Friday order the food. Do you want extra dumplings for when you get back from patrol Pete? " Peter nodded "Yes please, 2 orders" he responded. Tony hummed in response and turned to Rhodey "Anything special for you Honeybear?" "Dumplings sound good and fried rice if it is from that place on 5th." Rhodey responded. As Tony walked out they heard him tell Friday to add on the extras and have it delivered in an hour.

Peter returned his focus on the braces and holograms he was working on while Rhodey took a moment of silence before leading into the next part of what he wanted to tell the younger man.

"So.." Rhodey began but was quickly cut off by Peter who snapped his head toward the man, "Please don't say all of that was a lie, he has been nervous about telling you, said he really doesn't want to lose another friend." Rhodey sighed, "No no I meant everything I said Peter, I only wanted to tell you in private thank you for taking care of him. He looks healthier and happier than I've seen in a very long time, hell maybe ever. And he is so stupid if he thinks he is ever getting rid of me." Peter let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He turned back to work as he spoke softly "Thank you for your support. It means a lot and it means the world to Tony. I'm so glad he is doing better but I am not doing too much. Those first days were rough and there are still bad days but it's getting easier and he helps me through my own bad days. It's a good balance. I'm happy to be here with him." Rhodey turned serious after thinking for a moment. "Not much, Peter you are doing more than you know. You are accepting Tony for Tony which no one has ever done before. It's everything to him." Peter shrugged and moved the holograms to the side. "He is everything to me so I guess that is fitting. He doesn't deserve all the shit that has happened and now he deserves to have some peace."

Peter worked on updates to Rhodey's leg braces for the next hour while telling some funny stories from his latest patrols. Rhodey enjoyed the stories just as he has when Peter would visit him while he was still recovering in the hospital and rehab. Friday alerted them that dinner had arrived as Peter finished the updates.

When they arrived in the penthouse Tony had all the food set up on the table and was coming out of the kitchen. "Come on. I know you're hungry sweetheart, you only had one sandwich for a snack." Tony declared as he pulled Peter into a quick hug. Rhodey laughed, "Damn spider metabolism lucky you're a billionaire Tones." Peter blushed but stacked his plate and started eating. Tony laughed and began eating himself, "Oh he is worth any food bill I have to pay. Right my little spider dumpling?" Peter almost choked on his fried rice and whines "Toooony!"

Dinner was nice with the friends catching up and soon Peter was suited up and ready to swing back to Queens. He said goodbye to Rhodey and took Tony's hand to pull him out to the landing of on the roof. They stayed hugging for a few minutes whispering I love you, be safe, I'll be waiting and enjoy time with your friend, I'll be back soon, I love you.

And with that Peter swung off the roof and began to get some stats from Karen. Tony watches him swing until he was out of sight and then turned around to go back inside. Rhodey was sitting with a chess game out on the table, "Should we throw it back and have an old school game while we wait?" "Oh sure if you came to lose I'll be happy to help you out." Tony responded.

In the middle of the first game Rhodey decided to dive into the elephant in the room, "So you doing ok after this afternoon, that was a lot with Pepper." Tony scratched his neck and sighed "Yea I expected that I'm glad you and Peter were there so it wasn't a one on one show down but I won't let her hurt Pete. I hope she realizes how serious I am and I won't allow anyone to hurt him." Rhodey nodded, "From her reactions I think she does, she was shocked but I think she saw it is very real. I'm not going to lie she went white as a sheet when she remembered Peter was Spider-Man." Rhodey chuckled and Tony shook his head, "People love to underestimate him, all smiles and so skinny but he can do more damage than the Hulk if he wanted to." Rhodey hummed in response and went on "You know I would like to help you guys out so why don't I go and see Pepper tomorrow tell her this is for real don't mess around just make the changes ya know? Maybe that will help." Rhodey paused and glanced up at Tony, who was looking at him intently. "You both were there for me when I needed someone and I want you to know so have your backs with this even if others don't see it. I see how you two are good for each other and I like seeing you happy Tones." Tony was speechless for a moment then smiled and said "Thanks Honeybear that means more than you know to both of us. It's going to come out and it's probably going to be a shit show but I can't lose him. I will lose everything I have if it means I can keep this with Peter." Rhodey only nodded, a quiet understanding between the two longtime friends.

They played a few games when they were interrupted by Friday stating Peter was ten minutes out from the tower and Karen was reporting a small laceration on his leg but no other injuries to report. Tony huffed and took out a first aid kit from the kitchen, "Friday start the shower at Peter's temperature setting," he ordered with a wave of his hand.

Rhodey watched as Tony busied himself getting ready to take care of Peter and once the elevator beeped to signal the younger man's arrival Tony was waiting at the door holding him in a tight embrace as soon as he stepped out. "Shower is all set for you baby and then I'll fix that cut up and make you a hot drink." Tony said softly as he guided Peter towards the bedroom. Peter nodded quietly, gave Rhodey a little wave and disappeared into their shared room. Tony came back a minute later and started warming up hot chocolate. "You want tea, coffee or hot chocolate Honeybear? It's good for Peter to unwind a little after patrol so he usually likes a hot chocolate which I do make the best one around." Tony takes as he worked around the kitchen. Rhodey watched intently, "You make a good hot chocolate? Well I never thought I would see the day but I'll take one of those."

Peter appeared in the door of the kitchen in comfortable clothes, laughing, " Yes he is a very good barista now." Tony gave Peter a quick kiss and pointed to the couch, "You go and sit, I'll look at the cut and then the drinks should be ready."

Now Rhodey saw the other side of the balance Peter spoke of earlier in the day. Tony taking care of Peter gently and being his comfort as much as Peter was that for Tony in a different way. Rhodey brought the hot drinks into the living room to see Peter's cut was a lot larger than he expected but Peter looked up with a wink and said "Don't worry Rhodey it will be healed by morning." Rhodey huffed this time "Must be nice to have that healing factor." The three enjoyed each other's company while they drank their hot chocolate, it was a rare quiet night for any of them.

In the early morning hours as Rhodey came out to the kitchen to get some coffee, he found the two men cuddled on the balcony couch. Cozy in many blankets with Tony's head in Peter's lap with Peter slowly petting Tony's hair and Tony's eyes red from a night terror. Rhodey smiled behind their backs and started making breakfast after having Friday snap a picture and started a new folder called the Perfect Balance. He would help keep these two soulmates together he made a silent promise to then and himself.

[multifandomfanboy]

Magnus Protocol Q&A - Summarised

The number of cameos from TMA characters was kept to a certain amount, though they were not sure what characters specifically they wanted to appear.

Jack is actually Celia's baby. Her claiming that she just slept around a lot and doesn’t know who the father is is apparently true. He’s distinctly non-supernatural to add dramatic tension.

The Fears have been pushed aside in favour of the new alchemy-based system of metaphysics, as the Fears have already been explained and there’s no mystery, but they don’t seem to have been completely discarded.

Only 5-10% of how the new system works is in the series so far, and Johnny thinks the full thing is probably overcomplicated - apparently, it involves "fifth-dimensional vectors". The two systems are able to function around one another.

Archives focuses on "supernatural history", while Protocol focuses on supernatural forms of other sciences.

Alexander J. Newall really REALLY hates Needles. Apparently, he was a placeholder idea and "he’s made of needles" was as much character as he initially had. Alex tried to veto Needles's existence, but he was needed to serve a specific "function" for the episode.

Needles is, however, Johnny Sims' favourite External. Mr. Bonzo is Alex's favourite.

Mr. Bonzo destroyed that car on purpose. He’s just a prick.

Protocol's writing structure is very different from Archives' because before it was just Johnny writing everything himself, but now it Johnny and Alex + guest writers on the same script.

Guest writers are usually given a selection of prompts to write for, but they can request their own prompts if they fit tonally. There’s an abridged version of the alchemy system for the guest writers to use.

There’s something in Season 2 that will link a few guest statements into their own small cohesive narrative. This stemmed purely from noticing consistent themes.

Because there’s less episodes, the plot has to happen quicker than in Archives and there’s less filler statements and direct sequels to statements.

Archives' ending was written intentionally so that they could do a sequel series if they wanted to, but they didn’t have that many ideas for it when Archives was still going. Almost none of the statement ideas pitched while they were developing Protocol actually made it into the series.

The art from the TTRPG isn’t intrinsically canon.

Things were a lot more corporate/capitalist in the planning phase before shifting towards civil services. Johnny lived with someone who worked in civil services for a few years, and similar themes are also in his book BLACKOUT.

The video game Control was a big inspiration.

Mr. Bonzo gets better benefits from his job than Alex does.

The Archivist is not Lucia Wright from MAG 130. Their actual identity is a spoiler, obviously.

Alice was written as trans because Johnny and Alex are friends with a lot of trans people. Having a trans character was actually one of the first things decided for the new series. Her being trans won’t be important to the plot.

Alex leans into the comedy-satire aspect when writing, which is why Protocol has more of it than Archives. It’s comedy was primarily inspired by sitcoms like Peep Show and The Thick Of It, as well as small sketch comedy troupes.

Colin is written like that because every person who works in IT is in some way scared of machines.

DPHW numbers do have meaning and are calculated from a real spreadsheet. Apparently how high the numbers are is biased (meaning most likely the theory that they’re related to how much fear is felt is probably true).

They claim that there is enough evidence for fans to figure out what the system means, and that they’ve seen interpretations that are close to the truth but not exactly. They note specifically that they’re how the OIAR classifies things, and not exactly how the world actually works.

The first few DPHW's done by Sam are confirmed as having been done wrong in-universe.

Johnny was the one that wanted to involve Issac Newton in the plot, and apparently things just didn’t work without involving him.

Making a podcast is very very hard.

[saltyyuuri]

🪻In another life🪻

Iso x fem! Reader

PART 2

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 6 - PART 7 - PART 8 - PART 9 - PART 10

Words: 2600

Warnings: mention of blood- mild violence and mental health. It's going to be angsty. This warning is simply going to be copy pasted to all chapters

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The flight back towards protocol headquarters was quiet. You were abnormally quiet, not even trying to strike up any conversation like you always did, just staring out the window, lost in thought. Of course your teammate, Iso, didn't pay no attention to your lack of chatter- it's not like he really would converse back anyways.

Even when you're back in headquarters, you kept the mission report brief and short, not over explaining anything and just keeping things as is- of course avoiding the detail that you and the omega-earth Iso had taken some time to talk. When it came to explaining what happened when you had got stuck in his ultimate, you simply said that you two fought it out, and you came out victorious.

Surprisingly no one tried to question you further even with the simple responses, just assuming you were tired or trying to get over experiencing that ultimate for the first time. Either way, you got dismissed pretty fast without further questioning. You didn't try talking to anyone else, heading straight to your dorm room and essentially locking yourself in there.

You took some time to take off your mission gear, take a good shower to try to calm yourself and relax as you could- but no matter what, you felt like you were missing something - or rather, someone.

You were already starting to miss Omega Earth's Iso, even if he wasn't like the one in your own universe. You were missing that version of him, missing how it felt so easy in the small instance where you were inside his ultimate. What felt like minutes to you in that pocket dimension was mere seconds in the real world, but you really wanted to have those seconds back another time.

Even though you knew it was wrong. You knew it was dangerous and irresponsible of you to have done that in the first place, for all you can know maybe he was just using you to try to get some Intel or get to you- and maybe you were just playing right into his plan. You know what you did was probably very stupid, but you couldn't help it.

Because you know if anyone finds out, if a word of what happened went around protocol- not only would it be embarrassing as hell, but you could also risk very big consequences from it all. It was nearly treason- acquainting with the enemy that way? You would definitely get kicked out of the team, if not killed on the spot to avoid any extra complications.

You sigh, slowly settling down on your bed as thoughts started to swarm more and more against your will. You didn't want to overthink it too much, seeing the circumstances and realizing the weight of what could have happened, your head was going haywire.

You curled yourself up under the blanket of your bed, kind of sleep off the overthinking, the pit of anxiety starting to form after what you've done. Sleep came hard and you were having a lot of trouble turning off your brain, only passing out for a few hours at a time before waking up and inevitably starting to overthink again. That cycle repeated a few times, never really checking your phone for time, and since you had blackout curtains you didn't realize what time of day even was at this point.

It was at some point when you woke up yet another time after resting for an unknown short period, someone knocked at your door. You forced yourself to get up tiredly, dragging yourself over to the door. You looked messy since you just got out of bed, but it was obvious that you weren't feeling too good nevertheless.

When you open the door, you come face to face with your friend Clove, who looked worried for you and also energetic as hell, as usual. Before you could say anything they pushed their way in to your room, shutting the door behind them. They put their hands on your shoulders and guided you back to bed to sit down, pulling out your office chair from your desk a bit further away to sit on themselves.

"What's going on?" Clove simply asked you, their elbows resting on their knees as they looked at you in concern. "What do you mean what's going on-you're the one who woke me up-" you mumbled out tiredly, emphasis put on your words the moment you stretched and yawned, trying to wake yourself up a bit more.

"It's noon, (Y/N), of course I'm going to come check up on you when you miss training and no one saw you get something to eat since you came back yesterday!" Clove said with their voice filled with concern now- they just realized that you had no idea just how long you were locked up in here, now really starting to wonder what happened during that mission.

"Noon-? Oh shit." You said as you felt yourself wake up much faster all of a sudden, immediately reaching out to grab your phone. You wanted to send a quick apology to Sova, he was usually the one to train you along with a few other agents in the morning, and Lord knew how cranky that guy could get if you missed training without advising. "Shit, Sova's going to kill me-" you mumbled out as you quickly pulled up a messaging app to send him a quick message to apologize.

Clove spoke up, shaking her head. "(Y/N), calm down, we all know Sova would never blow a fuse on you. I'm sure you could miss a whole week and the worst he'd do is grumble a bit." Clove said with a slight deadpan expression. You still sent a quick message to apologize, feeling a bit guilty nevertheless that you made some people worry. "Still. I didn't even realize what time it was myself."

Clove let silence take over for a few moments, trying to think on how they would ask their next question, knowing that you would probably try to avoid it anyways. "Did something happen during the mission?" Clove decided to go straight to the point when they asked you, and they hope that you would be honest about it.

But that question caused a spike of nervousness through you once more. You didn't want to lie to Clove- you two have made it abundantly clear to stay honest with each other. But... Knowing just how dangerous your actions could have been and knowing how bad the consequences could get, you didn't want to tell them. You were pondering your words, trying to figure out the best way to not lie to them without telling them exactly what happened.

Clove could see you trying to think on the best way to talk to them about it, and they had a feeling you would try to avoid it as much as you could. They let out a heavy sigh as they leaned back in the office chair, looking at you with concern but understanding at the same time. "Here, I'll just ask yes or no questions. If you don't want to answer, just don't answer."

You let out a small breath, knowing that yes or no questions would be a good way to avoid having any of the big information out. "Does your stress have to do with something that happened during the mission?" Clove asked first, trying to determine the bases. "Yes." You nodded along with your answer.

"Does it have to do with Iso?" Clove asked again, taking a guess that seemed the most logical. The only thing is you weren't too sure how to even answer on that one. You hesitated, trying to think of if it was a yes or no-since it wasn't fully with Iso, or at least not your earth's Iso. "...Kind of? It's complicated." You said, trying to not overspill as you spoke.

"Okay...? Is it with Omega Earth agents?" Clove tried again. This time you simply nodded, but your anxiety was starting to go up once again. "... Was there the Omega earth Iso?" Clove asked once more, and you nodded. You didn't know if you'd be able to answer any extra questions that would come from them- once again you didn't want to overshare and end up in big trouble.

"Something happened between you and Omega Earth Iso?" Clove asked once more. You felt a knot in your stomach starting to form. The questions were starting to Edge on dangerous territory and you didn't know if you should even answer this or not. But you knew your expression would be a dead giveaway anyways. "...Yes." You answer quietly, looking down at your hands that were resting on your lap.

You let out another breath, the stress of these questions were starting to make your hands sweaty and your stomach felt like it was about to get ill. "I don't want to talk about what happened." I finally said before they could ask anything else, drawing the line on the questions. This was all you were willing to tell them, that something happened, but you don't want to tell them what. "Alright. So something happened between you and Omega Earth Iso, it's obviously stressing you out but you don't want to talk about it." Clove simply confirmed, to which you nodded.

Clove took a short moment before talking again, considering their next words. Of course they were worried and also a bit hurt you didn't want to trust them with your secret- that you didn't trust them enough to talk about what happened- but they also understood that whatever happened had an impact on you. And that it was obviously stressing you if not scaring you right now.

"Well... Without necessarily telling me what happened- if you need to vent out any emotions, please don't bottle up. I know you have a tendency to get caught up in your own head, but I also understand that you don't want to talk about the situation itself." Clove said firmly, reaching out one of their hands to place on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as they offered a small smile. They knew that it was a small attempt, but they also just wanted you to understand that they were there for you.

"Thank you." You said quietly, trying to not let your thoughts run once again. You were trying to figure out what your next move should be, what you could do to try to keep yourself distracted from your own mind. That solution came a bit faster than you thought- Sova texted you back pretty fast to respond to your apology for not being in training that morning.

He simply responded with 'it's okay, I understand if the mission took a lot out of you. Just tell me if you ever feel a bit better later today, we can catch it up!' and honestly, a good workout would probably do you wonders to keep your mind off things. "I think I'm going to go catch up on training, clear my head a bit." You said to Clove, slowly starting to get up from bed.

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And so here you are now, currently laid on one of the benches in the training room, slowly sipping on a protein shake while you had Sova scolding you beside you, all while trying to make sure that you were doing okay. How did you end up in that situation? You forgot to eat, simple as that. You didn't eat dinner after coming back from the mission nor did you eat breakfast or lunch today. Having that in mind-you went to go train on an empty stomach.

"Seriously, (Y/N)! It's the basics of being Human- how can you simply forget to eat?" Sova scolded as he once again paced beside the bench you were laying on, his eyes darting over to you every now and then to make sure that you were drinking the protein shake. "I told you, I was really tired yesterday and I just didn't realize today-" you said once more before taking another small sip.

You had ended up passing out accidentally while jogging, doing cardio on an empty stomach and with all the stress that you had obviously wasn't a good idea but it genuinely slipped your mind. You finally finished the protein shake, taking an extra second to make sure that you were feeling okay before sitting up.

Sova stopped pacing and took a step towards you, a hand going to your back to help you sit up without forcing your body too much, just trying to make sure you were generally okay. "Easy there..." He said quietly, letting out a small sigh and holding back any extra comments. "I'm okay, I'll just get myself something to eat and take it easy." You said as you were trying to slowly get up before getting pushed right back down by Sova.

"No, you stay there and I will get you something to eat. That protein shake was just to compensate." Sova said sternly, his tone leaving no place for argument. And anything that would have been used to talk back was immediately shut off-you already felt bad that you missed your morning training so you didn't want to make it worse by talking back.

And so that's how your afternoon ended up going. Practically getting babysat by one of the top snipers of the team because he thinks you're irresponsible now. Not only did he cook you food and make sure you drank enough water for the day, he also followed you around until you finally went back to your dorm. You were a bit embarrassed, understandably so.

But, if anyone asked, he didn't specify that he was following you around for that reason, no, he let you have your dignity and he said he was simply hanging out with you. You at least were thankful for that-even though part of you didn't understand why he bothered. You two weren't that close, even though he was very friendly you didn't really hang out much with him.

There was quite a few reasons-the main one being his intimidating factor. Sure, he was very friendly to the team, but he did have a bit of an intimidating exterior. Not only that, the first times you met him was during training, and he was quite rough on agents when training. So it was just an automatic response to assume he was intimidating.

Though it has been some time since you first got hired here and you did understand that he was friendly- it was just wired in your brain that he had some authority and you didn't really want to mess around with that.

"If you feeling unwell or you forget to eat again, you better tell me. I don't want this type of incident happening again." Sova said sternly as he opened the door to your dorm for you, moving aside to let you in your own humble abode. "Yes... And sorry again." You said a bit quietly, mainly due to embarrassment from it all.

"Stop apologizing, it was a genuine mistake and it's obvious you had a rough night. Just take time to rest. And like I said, if there's anything, just ask." Sova said, giving your shoulder a pat as you walked into your dorm. He started shutting the door behind you, speaking up one last time before fully closing the door. "Good night, (Y/n)." He said in a much more gentle tone, not in that firm and scolding one.

The moment you were alone in your room, you just went about your routine. Taking a quick shower, brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. It felt a bit automatic, your head was overloaded and you were overworked. You were hoping that after some rest that things would start placing themselves a bit, and that hopefully you would stop stressing so much about the incident between you and omega-earth Iso.