#I need motives to draw and I only have a few slides

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

tbh I wish I had more window color options

[gloomwitchwrites]

By the Belt (2 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, undressing, talking through it, praise, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, cowgirl position

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Gaz tells you to take what you want.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

The light on the bedside table is on. Its warm glow rolls out across the bedroom, illuminating the room enough to cast long shadows against the wall.

Kyle stands just shy of the end of the bed, his black suit jacket tossed onto the sheets. Tugging on the tie at his neck, Kyle’s gaze is focused on the phone in his hand. He’s tapping away, his cheeks slightly flushed with a rosy hue from the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed this evening.

The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are open, revealing skin and the faintest fluff of chest hair. He sighs, tapping again, sending something out before opening up another message. It’s likely all work related, an aspect of him that never seems to shut off.

Slowly, you stalk from the bathroom doorway to Kyle in nothing but your lingerie. You’re already out of your dress and heels, only wanting for him to put his phone aside and relax. The moment you walk up to him, Kyle reaches out almost on instinct, his gaze still on his phone but his hand seeking you.

His palm makes contact with your bare skin, and you slide your fingers into the belt loops of his perfectly tailored dress pants. Pulling taut, you draw Kyle against you, bodies pressed close together.

Kyle’s gaze immediately shifts to you, the concern in the middle of his brow softening to affection. His mouth stretches into a smile that he only ever gives you.

“Baby girl,” he croons, the backs of his fingers tenderly skimming along the edge of your jaw. “You can have whatever you want.”

The two of you stand in the middle of the bedroom, pressed close, your hands between your bodies. It’s late, and the flow of traffic is almost non-existent. It’s unusually quiet, just your breath and his.

Kyle is the handsy one. He loves touching you, reaching for you at every possible moment. Sometimes it’s blatant, squeezing thigh and hip, while other times he is subtle with just passing touches.

“I want you,” you murmur, because it’s the truth, and you also want Kyle to relax, to be present in this moment. The entire evening has been a whirlwind.

Sometimes Kyle reaches for you and almost isn’t aware that he’s doing it. You are not nearly as generous or bold with your touches as he is, so sliding your fingers into the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer might come across as forward.

But Kyle doesn’t seem all that surprised. The sultry smile on his face is enough to send heat racing to the space between your legs.

“You want me,” he repeats back. Kyle doesn’t need to question your motives. His is aware of just how much you love him; of how much you like to just linger in his presence.

“I’ll always want you,” you murmur, tipping your head back as a silent invitation.

Kyle locks his phone and tosses it onto his suit jacket. “But how do you want me, love? Be specific. You can take what you want, but you need to tell me.��� The fingers brushing at your jaw rotate, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Direct me,” he murmurs. How do you want it?”

The way he’s speaking to you doesn’t make the dominance in you flare. If anything, it drives you toward submission, to lay on your back and welcome him in until you feel him for the next few days.

Slowly, your fingers slide out of the loops, travel upward to undo the buttons on his shirt one at a time, revealing chiseled chest. Kyle does not move. He waits for you to help him out of it, to toss it onto the bed before transitioning to the front of his pants, undoing buckle, removing his belt, opening the front only to push it down his legs and hips. You stay down there, unlacing his dress shoes and rolling off his socks. They’re kicked off. Tosses to the side. Entirely forgotten as you return to standing.

The moment you’re staring into his face again, Kyle moves, sliding his arm around your waist, head dipping like he’s about to kiss you but pauses at the last second.

“Where do you want me?” he asks softly.

“On the bed.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Be specific.”

“Reclining,” you answer.

“That’s it, love.”

Kyle teasingly clips the underside of your chin before he picks up his phone and suit jacket, bringing them to the dresser and returning to the bed. He slides into the middle, leans back against the array of plush pillows, spreading his arms wide.

He is entirely naked. Completely bare. And Kyle hides nothing from your gaze. He is displaying himself, knowing that you’re absorbing it all, taking notice of the hardening length of him.

You crawl up the bed to straddle his lap. Kyle keeps his arms outstretched, not touching until you give him the next instruction. Your hands rest on his chest, pressing into him, lips coming together in a slow kiss.

“Touch me,” you murmur against his lips.

“How?”

You reach out and guide one of his hands between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Kyle lightly rubs his palm over your pussy through the fabric of your delicate lace underwear. He sighs deeply, one finger sliding underneath and then another before pushing it to the side.

He plays with you at first, exploring like he’s just now learning your body. Then, he isn’t. Then he is circling your clit in little swirls that draw up the gentle roar that sits low in your belly. Already, you need him, and Kyle knows this.

He moves away, testing to see how wet you are. Kyle moans softly when he finds your excitement dripping onto the tips of his fingers. One finger easily slides inside, and Kyle begins to pump casually, simulating sex, lightly curling the very tip to draw against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb takes up residence against your clit, moving in time with his pumping finger.

Your eyelids flutter, then shut as your back arches, moaning loudly.

“Is that what you want, love?” he murmurs, coaxing an answer from you with a perfectly placed stimulation of your clit.

“Yes,” you manage to breathe, the word stuttering out.

The orgasm is sharp and quick, giving you the release you need and yet driving your desire even higher.

Kyle slowly continues to pump his finger. “More?”

You shake your head. “I want something else.”

“What?” he asks, automatically.

Leaning back a bit, you reach behind you to grasp his cock, stroking him gently. Kyle groans, his hand not occupied between your legs reaching out to grasp your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

“You know what to do,” he says through gritted teeth.

With one hand around his cock to guide, you flex your hips up, slowly sinking down on him. You roll up, and then back down, hands returning to Kyle’s chest as you seat yourself entirely on him. The head of his cock sits deep, and your fingers dig into his chiseled pectorals.

Kyle’s eyelids and brow are soft as they gaze on you. Whimpering, you come up and go right back down, the angle hitting that sweet spot.

“Good,” he breathes. “Doing so well, love. Just like that.” You repeat the movement and Kyle fails to stifle a groan. “Fuck—oh, fuck. That’s right, sweetheart.”

His praise warms your skin and blood. Sliding your hands upward, you hold onto his shoulders, using them as leverage to rock and bounce back on him. Kyle’s breathing lengthens, nostrils flaring as he tries to retain control of himself. Kyle’s grip on your thigh changes. Moving closer toward your pelvis, Kyle finds your clit with his thumb, stroking it in just the way you need to, causing the muscles in your legs to quiver.

He sends you over the edge in moments.

“Kyle,” you groan, his name dripping from your lips to stain the air.

“Fucking hell, love,” he moans, his other hand sliding up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him.

“Fuck me, Kyle. Please. Please.” You need to feel him everywhere, to remember the stretch of him inside you for days after.

Kyle answers by meeting each roll of your hips with an upward thrust. The two of you come together repeatedly until his own thighs tense beneath.

“Inside me. Please, Kyle. Please. Please.”

You’re begging at this point, the words falling into bursts of air that Kyle pulls from your body with each thrust of his hips.

He holds you flush against him as his release hits him. No words are spoken, just sounds that speak to pure contentment and bliss. Collapsing against him, Kyle wraps his arms around your back, holding you close, sinking further into the pillows and bedding, your bodies sticky and sweaty.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria

[genericpuff]

Scamlords is at it again.

A few nights ago, there was a sudden blow-up in the /r/webtoons server showing a new announcement from Snailords -

For anyone unaware, Death : Rescheduled has been on mid-season hiatus since October. And it's now, and only now, that Snailords has suddenly decided the comic is ending after it returns, but readers can get an extra 20 episodes... if they fork over $1k in merch sales.

Now, this could be a lot worse. They could be threatening not to return to the series at all unless their readers hand over money. But considering it's practically just one degree away from that, it's still pretty nasty. Not to mention, the further they divulged in their reasoning around this "idea", the more confusing it got.

They also even revived their @snailordsrant account on IG which, for those of you who were there and can recall, was the same account they used to put one of their own fans on blast over some very mild criticism.

None of this makes any actual sense, for several reasons:

1.) I literally fail to see how getting $1k in less than 24 hours is worth shoving in an extra mini arc of 10 episodes if you don't even have it planned out. Why do that to your audience or to yourself? Why drag things out just to scrounge up an emergency $1k? Why not just be honest with your audience and run a GoFundMe or just say , "Hey everyone, I've run into some financial troubles, I would really appreciate it if you could FastPass my newest episodes or donate to my Patreon or buy some merch so I can cover the costs". It's really telling that this shithead doesn't have enough confidence in themselves or their audience that practically worships them that they have to resort to this kind of underhanded shit to get the money they need. I wanna make it clear that this is NOT like a Kickstarter stretch goal or anything that incentivizes readers to support their work, they're instead holding the length and future of their series over their audiences' head (which they've done before) for money. That's not an incentive, it's an ultimatum.

2.) Maybe I'm misreading / being stupid (someone pls explain if I'm missing something here) but I literally don't see how their comment about working 50 hours a week explains why they're suddenly getting their fans to pay out $1k worth of merch in less than 24 hours. For anyone who doesn't know, $1k per episode is an example Webtoons uses in its post discussing how they pay out creators (this came after the platform got called out 2 years ago for paying creators too little, there are undoubtedly creators getting paid less). And yet for some reason $1k is apparently the difference between 10 episodes and 20? How does that add up? And is the bit about them wanting to buy boba supposed to be a joke? Where's the punchline here?

3.) They say they have writer's block and they want to use the money to "motivate them", but then just a few slides later they say 10-15 episodes is what would make them the "happiest" so which is it? Do they want to write 10 episodes or do they want people to pay them to write 20 episodes so they can draw the fluff scenes that they apparently want to draw? If you have an ending planned out, why rush it or drag it out depending on how this "fundraiser" goes? Why not just write the ending you want to write that will serve your story best? Why shove in an extra mini arc that you don't even have full confidence in writing and then try to compare it to a "super expensive cake"? What are you doing? Speaking as someone who's had trouble getting motivated in the past, suddenly getting a month's rent worth of money to do it doesn't necessarily solve that, it just turns up the pressure, and if you're not someone who deals with pressure well, then you're more likely to wind up just burning out entirely rather than fulfilling that goal.

4.) The fact that they did, in fact, hit their goal just makes it all the shittier to think about because their audience is mostly made up of teenagers who worship the ground that they walk on. It's horrifying that they keep pulling these stunts with their audience, and getting away with it to boot - and Webtoons, as a company, keeps enabling it by allowing it to happen by hosting and promoting people like this.

Anyways, there's already a lot going on here that's sketchy, but then... they went and deleted their posts. At the time of this happening (as I was there to witness it all play out in real time) I assumed this meant that they had hit their $1k goal - especially as they had been showing their progress on their IG and they were already at $900 after just a couple hours - but it gave me a sinking feeling seeing them delete it because they had also been called out by some brave readers telling them that it wasn't exactly a good look to essentially blackmail their audience through their own content into giving them money.

Snailords deleting it gave me a stronger impression of "burying the evidence", especially now that they had the money. By all accounts, they could do whatever they wanted now.

So what did they decide to do?

. . . Huh?

Okay, take a second to actually think about what Snailords has done here. Because I know some of you will go "oh, it was for charity all along! that was nice of them!" but . . . I don't know about the legalities of collecting donation funds under false pretenses, but morally speaking, it's a really shitty thing to do. They stripped away the choices - limiting them to three - of what their readers could donate to, and what I think their readers don't understand - due to being mostly teenagers - is that they're tax-exempt individuals and they just unknowingly gave Snailords an easy $1k tax write-off. You really, really shouldn't collect donation funds like this without being honest, it's just a shitty thing to do, especially after you've already collected the money. It mostly just comes across as damage control on Snailords' part to make it seem like they were always planning to donate to charity, when in reality, if they wanted to donate to charity, they would have been honest about that at the start. Again, even if they wanted to do that from the start, it goes to show how little confidence they have in themselves or their audience that they have to stoop to methods like these instead of just doing it honestly.

And do you really think Snailords will actually do those extra episodes? Or donate that money? This is the same asshole who has manipulated their readers for money not once but twice, and now seems intent on doing it a third time just for the charm. This is the same person who practically sabotaged their own comic, Freaking Romance, because they apparently didn't like the romance genre and may as well have only done it for clout / views / etc.

What was especially odd - and I found this out from folks who actually read Death : Rescheduled (I do not) - was finding out that it wouldn't make sense for D : R to end in as many as 25 episodes, because apparently, the plot has basically just gotten going.

So it does seem like this is foreshadowing that D : R will wind up just like Freaking Romance, rushed into an ending that wasn't expected. And this, of course, has the people who read their work confused because D : R was supposed to be Snailords' passion project, their magnum opus, the project they wanted to do. So them holding the timing of an ending that shouldn't even be happening yet for ransom contradicts that original intention. Really, it just goes to show that Snailords has no passion, they're just in it purely for the money, to a degree that I can't even cheer them on for being a hustler because it's missing the honesty and integrity.

And of course, every single time Snailords finds a way to backpedal and take his audience for a ride, they hop right in without a single thought for themselves.

And no, none of this is to hate on the readers directly, I hold Snailords entirely responsible for this - they have an audience of impressionable, naive, gullible teenagers, and they know it, and take advantage of it every chance they get. It's why they weren't just honest about wanting to collect money for charity from the start. It's why they resorted to basically holding their own comic's progression for ransom during its midseason hiatus. It's why the deadline was 24 hours and why the posts are now gone.

Thankfully the Internet does what it does - any evidence that Snailords was trying to bury is now all over reddit, and hey, just for good measure, here's a post on Tumblr that's been sitting in my drafts for days now, days after people have already seemingly stopped talking about it. Don't let anyone bury or forget about the stunts Snailords is pulling on their audience, with a platform that they've been consistently given by Webtoons, because that's what they want you to do.

[badathumanemotions]

The Velvet Room

Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader

MDNI Category: Smut CW: Strangers Hooking Up, Dom Emily, Sub Reader, Vibrator, BDSM, Safe Words, Bondage, Strap On, Vaginal Sex, Edging, Use of Good Girl, Aftercare. WC: 4,965 Reader and Emily meet at a BDSM club and have some fun. (Not proof read) Master List

The neon lights of the city bled into the night, casting an eerie glow over the sidewalks. Raindrops pattered against the windows of the unassuming building, blurring the lines of the world outside. Inside, the air had the scent of leather and desire, a clandestine haven for those seeking to explore the shadows of their souls.

The club thumped with the sound of a beat, a rhythm that seemed to resonate within the very walls. Among the dimly lit booths and the whispers of intimate conversations, a woman in a crimson dress sat with a knowing smile, watching the dance of shadows play across the floor. Her eyes locked onto the newcomer, a blend of curiosity and hunger in her gaze.

Emily Prentiss, a woman whose career in the BAU had sharpened her instincts, recognized the spark of interest in the other's eyes. She approached with the grace of a predator, her movements a silent invitation to the dance of power and submission. "Looking for some fun?" she purred, her voice a siren's call.

Y/N, feeling a rush of excitement and nerves, nodded. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with the promise of something dark and delicious.

"What brings you to a place like this?" Emily's voice was like velvet, wrapping around Y/N's senses and drawing her in deeper. Y/N bit her lip, trying to decide how much to reveal. "I've… always been curious," she finally managed, her eyes darting around the room before returning to Emily's piercing gaze.

Emily's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye. "Curiosity is a powerful motivator," she said, leaning in closer so their breaths mingled.

"I'm Emily," she introduced herself, extending a hand. Y/N took it, feeling a jolt of electricity pass between them. "And you are?"

"Y/N," the newcomer replied, their voice barely a whisper. The warmth of Emily's grip sent shivers down their spine, hinting at the power dynamics yet to unfold.

Their conversation grew more intimate as they delved into their desires, each revelation peeling back a layer of the other's inhibitions. Emily spoke of control and the thrill of giving and receiving it, her words painting vivid images that made Y/N's pulse race. Y/N confessed her own longings for submission, the need to be overwhelmed by another's will, to be used as a canvas for their pleasure.

Emily's eyes searched Y/N's, seeking the truth in her words. She reached out, her fingertips tracing the line of Y/N's jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked, her tone both gentle and firm.

Y/N nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. "I've never felt more ready for anything in my life," she breathed, the words a declaration of trust.

Emily's smile grew, a hint of challenge in it. "Good," she murmured, her hand sliding down to grip Y/N's wrist. "Follow me."

They arrived at a velvet-curtained room, the walls a deep shade of red. Emily stepped aside, allowing Y/N to enter first. Inside, the space was sparse but for a few pieces of strategically placed furniture that whispered of erotic intent. The centerpiece was a sturdy metal frame, the edges gleaming in the low light.

Y/N felt her heart race as Emily closed the door, shutting out the sounds of the club. The room was now their own private sanctuary, a place where the only law was the one they'd set between themselves. Emily's eyes swept over her, taking in the tremble of anticipation that had taken over Y/N's body.

"Before we begin," she said, her voice dropping to a low murmur, "we need to establish some ground rules." She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the cold floor. "This is about trust, and I need to know you're safe with me."

Y/N nodded, eager to comply. "I understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emily stepped closer, her eyes searching Y/N's. "We'll use the stop light system. Red means stop, yellow means slow down, and green means go. Do you agree?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Yes."

Emily leaned in, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "From now on, you will address me as Madam or Miss. Do you understand?"

Y/N's eyes widened, the word rolling off her tongue as if it had been waiting to be spoken. "Yes, Madam," she whispered, the title feeling both strange and exhilarating.

Emily's gaze grew more intense, her eyes searching Y/N's for any sign of doubt. "Good," she said, the satisfaction in her voice clear. "Now, tell me your hard limits. What are the lines you don't want crossed?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had thought about this before, had prepared herself for the moment. "No permanent marks," she said, her voice steady.

Emily nodded, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. "And?" she prompted, her voice a gentle command.

Y/N took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing slightly. "No bodily waste," she said firmly, "and no blood play. Other than that, I'm open to explore."

Emily nodded, her eyes gleaming with approval. "Very well," she said, her voice a velvet purr. "Now, strip for me, pet."

Y/N's hands trembled as she began to remove her clothes, each piece falling to the floor like a discarded shield, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. Emily watched, her gaze a physical caress that made Y/N's skin burn. When she was naked, Emily stepped forward, her eyes raking over Y/N's body with a hunger that was almost tangible.

"Stand in the center of the room," Emily instructed, her voice firm and commanding. Y/N complied, her heart hammering in her chest. Emily reached up and attached leather cuffs to each side of the metal bar, the cool metal sending a shiver down her spine.

She took Y/N's wrists, one at a time, and secured them to the bar above her head. The height was perfect, leaving Y/N's body pulled taught and displayed like a work of art.

"Keep your legs spread," Emily ordered, her voice a soft but firm command. Y/N complied, feeling the coolness of the air against her wet pussy. Emily stepped back, admiring her handiwork, her eyes lingering on the way Y/N's body quivered with anticipation.

The sound of a drawer opening and closing made Y/N's heart jump. She heard the low buzz of a vibrator, and her mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come. Emily's hand appeared in her line of vision, the vibrator in her grip, a devilish smile playing on her lips.

The buzz grew louder as Emily approached, the anticipation building to a crescendo within her. The first touch was feather-light, a teasing brush against her erect nipples that made her gasp. Emily chuckled, a dark sound that sent a thrill through Y/N's body. She moved the vibrator in slow circles, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure that made Y/N's knees wobble.

"P-please, Madam," she whimpered, the ache in her core growing with every pass over her sensitive skin.

Emily's smile grew wicked, enjoying the way Y/N's body responded to her touch. She moved the vibrator lower, the tip hovering just above her clit, the anticipation driving Y/N wild.

"Beg for it," Emily whispered, her breath hot against Y/N's ear.

Y/N's eyes fluttered shut, the ache in her pussy becoming unbearable. "Please, Madam," she breathed, her voice a desperate plea.

Emily's chuckle was dark and rich, a sound that made Y/N's skin prickle with excitement. "What do you want, my pet?" she asked, her voice a soft caress.

"I want… I need…" Y/N's voice was ragged with desire.

"Tell me," Emily demanded, her hand hovering just out of reach, the vibrator buzzing a silent promise.

Y/N's eyes snapped open, meeting Emily's gaze with a fierce desperation. "I need… I need you to make me cum, Madam," she begged, the words spilling from her lips like a confession.

Emily's smile grew, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Ah, so eager," she said, her voice a low purr. "But you haven't earned it yet."

The vibrator hovered just out of reach, the vibrations teasing Y/N's swollen clit. Her legs trembled, trying to close to relieve the pressure, but Emily's hand pressed firmly between her thighs, keeping her in place. "Open wider," she ordered, her grip unyielding.

Y/N's body obeyed, her legs spreading further apart as she let out a whine of need. Emily took advantage of her vulnerability, sliding the vibrator down to her entrance and pushing it in slightly before pulling it back out again. The sensation was maddening, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. "Please, Madam," she begged, her voice shaking with arousal.

Emily chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "You're so eager," she said, her voice a velvet whisper.

With a flick of her wrist, the vibrator's intensity increased, the buzzing growing louder as it pressed against Y/N's clit. The sensation was overwhelming, a crescendo of pleasure that made her toes curl and her back arch. Emily's eyes never left hers, the challenge in them clear. Y/N felt the beginnings of an orgasm building, a pressure that grew with every pulse of the vibrator.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes pleading with Emily to give her release. But just as the wave was about to crash over her, Emily pulled the vibrator away, leaving her hovering on the edge.

"Not yet," she murmured, her eyes dark with desire as she watched Y/N's body quiver.

Y/N's eyes snapped open, the desperation in them clear. "Madam, please," she whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily, searching for the release that had been so cruelly denied.

Emily's smile grew wider, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "You're so close, aren't you?" she taunted, her voice a sweet caress that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

Y/N could only nod, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The need to cum was a living thing within her, a demanding beast that she could no longer ignore. Emily leaned in, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Good girl," she whispered, the words sending a thrill through her body.

Emily's fingers slid through the wetness coating Y/N's pussy, the sound of her slickness filling the air. She brought them to Y/N's lips, a silent command that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut as she took the fingers into her mouth, the taste of herself on Emily's skin making her moan around them.

The sensation was intimate, erotic, a claiming that went beyond words. Emily's gaze was intense, watching the way Y/N's cheeks hollowed as she sucked. The power dynamic was clear, a thrilling dance that had Y/N's heart racing and her pussy clenching with need.

When Emily finally pulled her hand away, Y/N's eyes remained closed, her breathing shallow and ragged. "Please, Madam," she begged, her voice thick with lust, "turn it back on."

Emily's smile grew, the sadistic glint in her eyes sharpening. "Beg for it, all pretty like," she purred, enjoying the way Y/N's body trembled with need.

Y/N's eyes snapped open, meeting Emily's challenging gaze. She knew the game, knew the thrill of surrendering control. "Please, Madam," she whimpered, her voice a desperate melody. "I'll do anything. Just… please, turn it back on."

Emily's smile grew, a wicked curve that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. "Anything?" she repeated, her voice a seductive whisper. Y/N nodded frantically, her body begging for the release it had been denied.

"Very well," Emily said, her eyes dark with desire. She turned the vibrator back on, the buzzing sound like a promise of sweet torment. Y/N's eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as the vibrations returned to her clit. Emily watched her reaction with a keen eye, her own arousal spiking at the sight of Y/N's desperation.

The vibrator danced over Y/N's skin, a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Emily's hand was a blur, bringing Y/N closer and closer to the precipice. Her legs quivered, her body straining against the bonds that held her in place. "Madam," she gasped, the word a prayer.

Emily's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, watching the delicious agony play out across Y/N's features. She knew exactly how to keep her dancing on the edge, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You're doing so well," she whispered, her voice a gentle praise that only served to heighten the tension.

With one hand on the vibrator, she trailed the other up Y/N's torso, her fingertips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her palm cupped one of Y/N's breasts, her thumb flicking at the erect nipple. The woman below her whimpered, her body straining for more. Emily leaned in, her teeth grazing Y/N's neck as she whispered, "Do you want to cum for me?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with the promise of relief and the threat of continued denial. Y/N nodded, her voice a needy whine. "Yes, Madam. Please, let me cum."

Emily's smile grew more predatory, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of power. She worked the vibrator in slow, torturous circles, bringing Y/N closer to the brink with each pass. Y/N's body arched, her muscles tightening as she fought against the restraints that held her in place. The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, a heady perfume that filled the room.

Y/N's eyes were squeezed shut, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she tried to hold back the scream that threatened to escape. She felt the pressure building, her climax just out of reach, a sweet agony that made her toes curl and her legs shake. Emily knew exactly how much she could take, her touch a masterful symphony of pleasure and pain.

But just as the crescendo was about to hit, Emily pulled the vibrator away. Y/N's eyes snapped open, a guttural moan torn from her throat as she felt the emptiness where moments before there had been such intense pleasure. Her pussy throbbed, desperately seeking the contact that had been denied.

Y/N's eyes grew wide as Emily sank to her knees, the leather of her heels creaking softly. The coolness of the floor was a stark contrast to the heat emanating from her body. Emily's gaze was fixed on the prize before her, the swollen folds of Y/N's pussy glistening with desire.

Emily leaned in, her breath a warm caress against the tender flesh. She traced the outline of Y/N's labia with a gentle finger, watching the way they parted slightly at her touch. The scent of arousal was potent, an intoxicating aroma that filled the air and had Emily's own desire spiking.

With a mischievous smile, she leaned closer, her lips hovering just above Y/N's clit. She took a deep breath, savouring the moment before she blew a soft stream of air against the sensitive nub. Y/N's body jerked, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. Her muscles clenched around nothing, a silent testament to the power of anticipation.

Emily watched, fascinated, as Y/N's pussy responded to the ghostly touch. The sight was mesmerizing, a visual symphony of desire that had Emily's own arousal spiraling higher. She felt a wetness between her own thighs, a reminder of her own need.

With a swift, practiced motion, Emily stripped herself of her dress, the fabric whispering against her skin as it fell to the floor. Her eyes never left Y/N's, the connection between them unbroken. She stepped out of the puddle of fabric, revealing her bare skin.

Y/N's eyes trailed over Emily's body, her gaze lingering on the soft swells of her breasts and the taught skin of her stomach. A neat strip of pubic hair, trimmed to perfection, drew her eyes downward, towards the place where her desires were most focused. The anticipation was a living thing, coiling in her belly like a snake ready to strike.

Emily stood, her movements a blend of confidence and grace, and reached for a black harness that lay on the nearby table. Y/N watched, her breath hitching in her throat, as Emily stepped into it, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly against her body. The dildo attached to it was a sleek, vibrating monolith, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

With a smirk, Emily took her place behind Y/N, the leather of the harness a stark contrast against her skin. She gripped Y/N's hips, her hands firm and possessive, and pulled them backward. The new angle had Y/N's pussy on full display, the plumness of her sex begging for attention. Emily's eyes darkened, her pupils dilating with hunger as she took in the sight.

Without a moment's hesitation, she slammed the vibrating dildo into Y/N's wet heat, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing through the room. Y/N's cry was a mix of shock and pleasure, her eyes squeezing shut as the sudden fullness filled her. Emily didn't hold back, her movements punishing and demanding as she claimed Y/N's body as her own. The walls of the room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with the scent of desire and the buzz of the vibrator.

Y/N's body rocked with the force of Emily's thrusts, her legs trembling as she fought to stay upright. Each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through her, the dildo hitting that perfect spot that had her gasping for breath. Emily's grip on her hips was bruising, a reminder of who was in control. She whispered filthy words into Y/N's ear, her breath hot and ragged. "You're mine," she growled, "my little slut, my plaything."

The vibrations from the dildo reverberated through Emily's body, her own arousal reaching new heights. She couldn't resist the urge to feel Y/N, her hands moving to cup the woman's breasts. Her thumbs flicked at the nipples, drawing a keening cry from her lips. The sound spurred Emily on, her hips moving faster, harder.

Y/N's pussy was a tight fist around the dildo, the wet slap of their bodies a rhythmic symphony that filled the air. Emily felt her own orgasm building, the pressure in her core tightening with every thrust. She leaned in closer, her breath hot and ragged against Y/N's neck. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with lust. "So fucking perfect."

Her hand slid down, finding Y/N's clit once again. She began to rub it in tight circles, the sensation making Y/N's body shudder. The pleasure was intense, the pressure building once more. "Madam, please," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea.

Emily leaned in closer, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Not yet," she murmured, the denial sending a fresh wave of arousal through her. Y/N's hips bucked, trying to find the release she so desperately craved. Emily chuckled, the sound dark and all-consuming. She enjoyed the power, the control she had over Y/N's body.

With a swift motion, Emily's hand came down on Y/N's pussy, the slap resonating through the room. Y/N's eyes shot open, the sting mixing with the pleasure, a confusing cocktail that had her panting. "Miss!" she gasped, her voice a mix of shock and need.

Emily's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips. "Not yet," she said firmly, her grip on Y/N's hips tightening. "You've been such a good girl, I don't want you to ruin it now."

Y/N's breath hitched, her body straining against the restraints. The pleasure was almost painful in its intensity, a raging storm threatening to break free. She could feel Emily's own arousal, the slickness of her skin, the tremble in her hands. It was a heady feeling, knowing she had that kind of power over someone so strong and in control.

Emily's rhythm grew erratic, her breaths coming in shallow pants as she felt the tension coiling in her belly. Her hips bucked against the harness, the vibrations from the dildo setting her own nerves alight. She could feel the wetness seeping through, her own arousal matching the slickness of Y/N's pussy. The need to claim her completely was overwhelming, a primal urge that had her gripping Y/N's hips even tighter.

With a flick of her wrist, she brought her hand down to Y/N's clit, the contact making her jolt. The woman's body was a live wire, her muscles quivering with the anticipation of release. Emily's fingers circled the sensitive nub, the pad of her thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.

"You can cum," Emily finally allowed, her voice a dark whisper that sent a bolt of pleasure through Y/N's body. The words were like a key unlocking a door, and suddenly, she was freefalling into an abyss of sensation.

Her body responded immediately, her muscles clenching around the invading dildo as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her. Emily didn't stop, didn't ease up, her thrusts becoming more erratic as she chased her own climax. Y/N's cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that echoed off the walls. The pressure in her core was unbearable, a tight coil of ecstasy that wound tighter with every stroke.

And then it hit her, a white-hot burst of pleasure that had her back arching and her eyes rolling back in her head. "Oh, fuck," she moaned, the words torn from her throat as her orgasm swept through her, leaving her trembling in its wake.

Emily didn't stop, didn't ease up, her movements becoming more frenzied as she chased her own release. Y/N's body was a playground, her pussy tight and warm, a place Emily could lose herself in. With a final, powerful thrust, she sent the dildo deep, her own climax crashing down upon her.

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, a rush of pleasure that had her gripping Y/N's hips as if they were a lifeline. She rode the wave, her breath coming in sharp gasps as the intensity of her climax rolled through her. The vibrations from the dildo sent tremors through her body, a delicious echo of the pleasure she'd just given Y/N.

As the last of the spasms subsided, Emily slowly pulled the dildo out, the sound of it leaving Y/N's body an intimate one that made her core clench. She turned off the vibration. For a moment, they remained like that, bodies entwined, breaths mingling in the heavy air.

Then, with the grace of a panther, Emily stood, her eyes still dark with lust but now filled with a gentle concern. She stepped back, releasing Y/N's hips. "Good girl," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You did so well."

Her hands moved to the cuffs, unbuckling them with a swiftness that spoke of experience. Y/N felt the coolness of the air as the leather slipped away, leaving her wrists red and tingling. She brought her hands down to her sides, her arms feeling like jelly after being held in place for so long.

Emily stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. She offered her hand, a silent invitation that Y/N gratefully accepted. Her legs felt unsteady as she stepped forward, her muscles protesting after being stretched and used so thoroughly.

The bed was a welcome sight, a soft oasis in the sea of sensation. Emily guided her down, her touch gentle as she helped Y/N lay on her side. The mattress enveloped her, the coolness of the sheets a soothing balm against her heated skin. She felt boneless, her body a puddle of satisfied need.

Emily moved with a grace that belied the intensity of their play, her movements efficient as she removed the harness. The dildo fell to the side with a soft thud, the silence after the symphony of their shared release almost deafening. She picked up a soft towel and bottle of lotion, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face.

Her expression was one of concern and care, a stark contrast to the dominant persona she had embodied so thoroughly moments before. She approached Y/N, who lay sprawled on the bed, her body a canvas of satisfaction. The marks from the cuffs stood out against her skin, a silent testament to their power exchange.

Emily knelt beside the bed, her hand gentle as it brushed the damp hair from Y/N's forehead. The towel in her hand was cool against the woman's overheated skin. Y/N's eyes fluttered open, meeting Emily's gaze, which was filled with a gentle warmth. "Good girl," Emily murmured, her voice a soft caress that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. "You did so well for me."

Her touch was feather-light as she trailed the towel down Y/N's body, her eyes taking in every inch of her. She took her time, her movements deliberate as she cleaned the sweat from her skin. Each stroke was a silent praise, a recognition of the trust that had been placed in her. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a soft counterpoint to the fierce passion that had just occurred.

When she reached Y/N's thighs, she paused, her gaze lingering on the evidence of their play. The scent of arousal was still heavy in the air, a heady reminder of the intensity of their shared experience. Emily's eyes met Y/N's, the question in them unspoken but clear. Y/N nodded, giving her silent consent to continue.

With a soft smile, Emily spread Y/N's legs, revealing her sex. The towel was tender as it brushed against the sensitive flesh, a gentle cleansing that had Y/N's breath hitching. Emily's touch was soothing, gliding over the delicate folds, easing away any discomfort or irritation.

Afterwards Emily made sure her touch was feather-light as she began to massage the lotion into Y/N's wrists, her thumbs moving in slow, soothing circles. The redness was already fading, but the tenderness remained. With each pass of her thumbs, the tension in Y/N's muscles lessened, the pain giving way to a warm, comforting glow.

Next, she turned her attention to Y/N's legs. They were trembling slightly, muscles tight from the exertion and restraint. Emily's hands moved to the woman's ankles, her fingers digging in gently as she began to knead and stroke. The lotion was cool and slick, easing the ache that lingered from their intense play.

Y/N let out a sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as Emily's touch worked its magic. Each stroke of her thumbs along the taut muscles sent waves of relaxation up her legs, unraveling the knots of tension. Emily worked her way up, her hands gliding over the calves, then the thighs, her movements firm and steady.

Once Emily was satisfied that she had tended to every inch of Y/N's body, she grabbed a towel for herself, her movements efficient and quick. She cleaned the sweat and the remnants of their shared passion from her own skin, the fabric whispering against her body as she wiped herself down. Her eyes never left Y/N, a silent promise that she wasn't done yet.

Emily walked over to a small fridge in the corner of the room, the sound of the bottle clinking against the metal door the only noise in the quiet aftermath. She pulled out a bottle of cold water, the condensation beading on the surface, and brought it over to the bed.

Y/N's eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. Her skin was flushed, a warm glow that spoke of the pleasure she had just experienced. Emily felt a thrill of satisfaction, knowing she had been the one to give it to her.

With a gentle touch, Emily placed the cold bottle of water on nearby table. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, her voice a soft purr that seemed to fill the room. Y/N's eyes cracked open, a lazy smile playing on her lips.

"Just…stay with me," she murmured, her voice a breathy whisper. "For a few minutes."

Emily nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she settled onto the bed beside Y/N. Her body was still humming with the aftershocks of their shared release, but she could feel the weight of the scene starting to lift. She laid her hand on Y/N's waist, her thumb making lazy circles on the soft skin.

For a moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the harsh breaths that gradually evened out. Emily's heartbeat slowed, her body cooling as the adrenaline faded. She felt a sense of peace, a quiet contentment that she hadn't felt in a long time. The trust that Y/N had placed in her was a gift, one she didn't take lightly.

Y/N's eyes remained closed, her body still trembling slightly with the aftershocks of her intense climax. Emily studied her, memorizing every curve, every freckle, every line of her face. She felt a warmth spread through her, a tenderness that surprised her.

Making a mental note to get Y/N's number, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the woman's forehead. "Rest," she whispered, her voice a gentle command. "You've earned it."

[celestialspecial]

In Cold Blood (pt 1)

Synopsis: A slew of murders have you and the other detectives scratching their heads, but the killer himself seems beyond fascinated with you.

Warnings: This is probably my most warning heavy story- mentions and graphic descriptions of blood/gore, death, murder (serial killer!billy is a giveaway), weapons including gun/knives, home invasion mentions, eventual smut lets just say EVERYTHING IS 18+- read at your own discretion

Tag list: @vermillionwinter , @nerdyreaderpapi

You turned a corner, feet hitting the pavement as fast as they could. Water splashed up from a puddle but it didn’t slow you down. The buzz of traffic didn’t calm your racing heart as you skidded to a stop down a corner alley.

How had this happened? You were so sure of yourself. So careful. At least that’s how it felt. 

It had started innocently enough, well maybe innocent wasn’t the correct choice of words.

It had started with the death of a local businessman. He’d been found in an alleyway, shoved between trash bins. Multiple knife wounds scattered across his torso and neck. You’d been called to investigate the scene with the other officers.

It had left your mouth dry, the other officers you worked with were rarely left speechless but this….this did it. The brutality of it was unmatched from anything you’d investigated before.

Then a few weeks later there was a woman found murdered in a similar fashion, body left in Central Park for anyone to find. Then there was another and another. It made your stomach turn. 

Then you found yourself volunteering to be on the case. To figure out who the bastard was. Why they were doing this. And to put them away for as long as possible. 

The longer you researched and devoted your time and energy to figuring out how to catch the murderer the less it made sense. There was no rhyme or reason or outright motives that stood out to you. Just a building body count.

That’s when you got the first call.

You’d been working from the office late one night, pouring over the latest crumb of evidence you’d been able to scrounge up. A blurry cctv blip of footage capturing a large figure in a black hoodie up over their head leaving the building where the last victim was found.

The noise jolted you from your seat, the blinds drawn in your office and the steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead wearing away at your eyes. It was late. Very late. No one you knew would be up at this hour. Not unless it was an emergency.

You didn’t recognize the number. So not a friend or relative popping up on caller ID. You let it ring another few times before sighing, with a roll of your eyes and sliding to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Detective Archer.” You felt your body freeze at your name being used. The voice crackled on the other end. Deep. Male. But it was edited somewhat, like he was speaking through some sort of device to conceal his voice. 

“Who is this?”

“Ah ah ah that’s on a need to know basis.”

“And I don’t need to know?” You pushed away from your desk standing to walk over to your closed office door. Peeking through the blinds to see the still empty office.

“I’m not in your office if that’s what you think.” Your blood ran cold as you froze in place, fingers just pulling away from the door.

“Are you…watching me?” Your eyes flitted to the windows on the right side of your office, rushing over and drawing the blinds closed.

“Always.” 

The word hung on the phone line, heavy silence.

“You’re him.”

“There’s a lot of “hims” out there, I’m going to need you to be more specific.” He was taunting you.

“The killer.” Laughter rang out in the other end.

“It took you a little while there, detective. Here I was thinking you were the top of your class.” 

“Why are you calling me?” You moved back to your desk wondering if there was some way you could trace the call from your cell phone. 

“To ask what your favorite scary movie is.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re gonna get.” 

“Come on Detective, play a little game with me.”

“Is that what you think this is?” You hissed into the phone. “A fuckin game?” Your heart pounded in your chest. Rage bubbling up and leeching into your voice.

“It is to me.” 

Then with that the line went dead. You swore, tossing your phone onto your desk falling back into your seat. 

Hands scratching your head, fingers twining furiously through your hair.  Eyes squeezed shut as you’re cursed once more before calling your boss and the rest of your team to alert them to this new development.

Another victim was found a few weeks later, a single stab wound to the chest right over the heart.  A Large Bowie knife was left in the body, with a swath of paper folded and held in place by the weapon.

You talked with witnesses and scribbled into your notes after consulting with another officer before turning on your heel to head back to the office. 

Knowing tonight you’d drink a pot of coffee and review how out of character this kill was from the previous victims. Was this even done by the same person? Did you have another murderer out there to watch out for? It made your head spin.

“Detective, I think you need to see this.” A cop named Thomas motioned you over to him holding out the piece of paper just removed from the victim.

You took the now unfolded paper from him eyes roving the page. A large red heart was drawn on it with blood. Whether it was the victims or someone else’s you couldn’t be sure, but that wasn’t the thing that worried you most.

Inside the heart was writing, scratchy red ballpoint pen spelling out in large letters, “Archer.”  A gift, a love letter, a taunt, you weren’t sure which one it was but it made your blood run cold. 

Hot water poured over your skin in the shower, hoping the scalding heat would strip away the knot in your stomach. Whenever you closed your eyes all you could see was the heart, teasing you.

The paper had been placed in an evidence bag and was now being tested but you couldn’t shake the visual from your head. Turning the water off and reveling in the steam before you wrapped a towel around yourself stepping into the bedroom.

All your scattered notes and random photographs littered your home desk and you were starting to feel pathetic at your lack of purchase on this slippery case. How many people needed to end up dead because you couldn’t do your fucking job?

Then the phone rang. A million thoughts ran through your head before you said fuck it and answered. 

“Hello?”

“Did you get my gift?” 

“You’re sick you know that?” You flipped on the tracer you’d installed on your phone after your last call. 

“Detective, I’m wounded. I gave you a lovely gesture of our relationship.”

“The only relationship we have is going to be when I arrest your ass and put you away for the rest of your life.” 

“I love when you flirt back with me.” 

You rubbed your brow absentmindedly, hating how limited you felt. How you felt like back in training being ridiculed by higher ups. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“I enjoy talking to you, Detective.”

“No. Killing people. Innocent people.”

“Who said they were innocent?”

“Who says you get to be judge, jury and executioner?”

If you stalled long enough it’d give your tracer a better chance of locking onto where the call was coming from. Giving you a shred of further evidence.

“You look very nice tonight.”

Your fist subconsciously gripped your towel tighter to your chest. The curtains in your apartment were drawn, and you had checked the lock over four times out of habit.

“How do you know how I look?” You wedged your phone into the crook of you neck, holding it in place as you reached into the end table pulling out your gun and checking the chamber was full.

“Are you close to catching me, Detective? Have I been occupying as much space in your mind as you do mine?”

You padded slowly down the hall, weapon held firm, pointing into each room as you passed. The heat from the bathroom emanated into the kitchen and you swiveled around the corner poised for an attack.

It never came. 

He was toying with you. He wasn’t here. 

“Why would I be in your head?”

You heard a thump back in your bedroom and the hair on the back of your neck stood up at the sound. The line was silent as you waited for a response, slowly inching back towards your room, gun held aloft.

The only sound you could hear was your own heart thundering in your chest as you eased into the doorway, ears straining to hear any other movement. In a rush if adrenaline you tossed the phone onto the bed throwing open the closet door.

It was empty. 

Keeping with your agitated pace, falling to the floor and checking under the bed only to see it bare as well. Angrily snatching the phone back and biting into the mouthpiece.

“Where the fuck are you?!” 

At that you heard footsteps back from the bathroom, thumping through your apartment and your front door being thrown open, the alarm blaring. 

Scrambling to catch up you stumbled into your living room and were greeted by the open door leading into the hallway of your apartment complex broken open, the chain lock busted and scraping back and forth as it hung limply.

The line went dead and you immediately dialed 911, waiting for a familiar operator to answer as you relayed your predicament. When you heard confirmation they were on the way you rushed back into the bathroom to grab your robe.

There on the mirror was drawn a heart, like that from the note found on the victim. The condensation beaded up as it bled in various water droplets from the remaining steam from the shower. 

The months continued on, all leads turning up nil. The tracer you had used only led you to a discarded burner phone in a trash bin by soho. The murders had briefly slowed down.

The phone calls however had not.

Their length and timing varied but it was always the same voice. Slightly skewed but a man’s voice all the same. It had helped you rule out a female suspect. 

The continued goading wasn’t the main thing grating on your nerves. No it would be much simpler if that was it. The true horror was how you began to wait for the calls. 

You refused to use the term, enjoy. But they no longer caused your blood to run cold in the same way. One day to your absolute dismay after a long stressful meeting you actually felt your shoulders unclench when your phone rang.

“Long day Archer?” 

“How can you ask me that when you’re the source of my stress?”

“Am I?”

Besides the phone calls there was the disturbing hints of affection. A bouquet had appeared at your desk at work one day. No note, but you didn’t need one to know who it was from.

Then a bottle of expensive wine was left on the steps of the precinct with another card bearing only a simplistically drawn heart inside.

The bottle was immediately taken in as evidence and dusted for prints. There obviously were none. No matter what you did he was always ten steps ahead. 5D chess in the most infuriating way. 

“How was the wine?”

“If you’re so aware of my every move you’d know I didn’t drink it.”

“Shame, 1913 was supposedly a good year for that merlot.”

“I’m growing tired of our Hannibal Lecter and Clarice dynamic.”

“Who says that’s what we are?”

“WE are nothing.”

A tsk’ing crackled over the line.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Then what are we?”

You put the phone on speaker as you pulled out a container of chinese food leftovers from your fridge. Popping the lid off and shoveling it into a bowl before sliding it into the microwave.

A chuckle came from the other end. You hated how it didn’t feel gross and malicious like it should. 

You continued on, mind listing a slew of options as you watched your food rotate in the microwave.

“Phantom and Christine. Michael Myers and Laurie strode. Billy Loomis and Sidney Prescott.”

“You never did tell me your favorite scary movie.”

you sighed dramatically as the oven dinged and you removed your food, returning it to the counter, pulling your hair into a messy bun.

“You do look stunning Detective. I’m shocked someone of your caliber went into law enforcement.”

“I think it’s unfair you know what I look like and yet Ive never seen you before.”

“Nice try Archer.” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh that shook your shoulders a tad. 

“It was worth a try.”

Walking into work the next morning you were immediately greeted by another detective, John Lawson. His cheeks were ruddy and he seemed to be out of breath.

“What’s going on?”

“We have a photo of our killer.” 

You felt your stomach flip, either from excitement or nerves.

“What?” 

He took out a printed sheet of paper, it showed a dim alleyway and a victim from the other night slumped in the background. 

Sure enough there in the foreground was a man, in a black hoodie, black pants and military boots. The hood pulled up over his head and underneath the hood a stark white mask, covered in a multitude of scratches and cracks that seemed to be painted on.

He was staring straight at the camera, knife glinting in one hand, the other raised in a mock wave.

“Smug bastard.”

[ninjigma]

QuinFox Week Part 4/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 4: Keeping the Other Alive + Fox find's Quin's Lightsaber Track: 'Escape From East Berlin' - Daniel Pemberton (Spotify / YouTube)

"You have to stay with me Vos, come on!"

He really was trying, promise.

"I know, just... focus on keeping up. I'll do the rest, okay?"

Quinlan took a slow breath, focusing on just putting one fast-paced foot in front of the other. His awareness was muted in his attempt to mask his pain, and at this point, all the energy he had was being expended in keeping ahead of whatever droids were left on their tail.

Suddenly he was being hauled up and forward, aware of the ladder only when its rungs were suddenly beneath his hands.

"Up!" Fox barked, shots ringing out after his words. 

Quinlan obeyed the sharp order without hesitation. He was around three floors up when his awareness flared and he wrenched backward, a hand flailing wildly as he lost his hold on the wet durasteel. A new slew of blaster fire came from the end of the alleyway, backup arriving and causing further chaos. Moving purely on instinct he reached for where his saber was clipped to his belt-

And found nothing.

The sound of his saber igniting drew his gaze downward, the green flashing and lighting up across the red of Fox's armor. The clone must have picked it up earlier when Quinlan had nearly collapsed, no time to do much more than grab the saber in one hand and pull Quinlan back to his feet with the other. Now Fox was moving with deadly accuracy, cloak fanning out around him, and Quinlan noted how even without Force sensitivity Fox was plenty skilled with the blade. He was precise and sly in his movements, expertly incorporating the blaster to dispatch another droid with a bullseye to the head, the sight inspiring some rather unique feelings in the base of Quinlan’s stomach.

"I said up Vos!"

Right, he was supposed to be climbing. Without another thought he continued moving, easily trusting Fox to cover him. That simple piece of knowledge that Fox was with him was enough to assure him they had a chance in all of this mess, was enough to motivate him forward.

He made it to the roof without further incident, slipping over the edge and sliding across the wet surface. The way it momentarily muffled the sound of the alleyway and how the rain thrummed against Quinlan's skin brought the Jedi a moment's respite, a second of clarity in the fog where he tried to parse out what they needed to do next.

He wasn't dead, not yet anyhow. But now they were on a rooftop and rather exposed to any air support the Separatists may have in the area. They needed cover, Quinlan needed medical attention, and most of all they had to get back to the ship and out of this damned sector.

All too soon Fox was joining him, Quinlan only having a few moments to breathe before Fox had grabbed his hand and yanked them both across slick metal and tile. Fox was still holding his saber, playing their escape purely on the defensive, and Quinlan was again truly impressed with how well Fox was handling the blade, continuous sweeps that blocked blaster bolts out of the sheer speed of the weapon's arc. 

Though Quinlan knew this wouldn't last long. Already he could see the end of the street coming up with a gap they definitely couldn't jump across. Fox had been guiding them as best he could, but they would be stuck with nowhere to go now, and would end up surrounded and outnumbered in seconds. They wouldn’t last long.

Unless...

Fox had begun to slow, head whipping around in search of some way out of this besides fighting straight back through the droids. Thus he was a bit surprised when Quinlan somehow found an extra burst of speed and began pulling Fox along after him instead.

Fox wasn’t dying like this, for something Quinlan had done, not while he was still drawing air.

"General?!" Quinlan managed a rather unhinged smile at the surprise in Fox's tone, though the commander followed without any other complaint. If anything he sped up, keeping pace directly toward the edge of the building, even when it became clear that was exactly what Quinlan was aiming for.

Trust me.

It may have been a trick of his mind, his single focus on getting them both out of this alive, but Quinlan could swear Fox squeezed his hand before leaping off that roof with him.

Always.

The feeling of free falling wasn’t unknown to Quinlan, but the struggle not to succumb to dizziness as he stretched out a hand and slowed them was an interesting first. He gave all of his attention to the presence of Fox, adding it to his own awareness and willing the Force up to meet them. In a rather graceless move the Force answered, just before they reached the street, and they were suspended perfectly in the air a moment before falling the last foot to safety. 

Quinlan staggered, would’ve fallen if not for Fox immediately tucking into his side and pushing them ever onward. Now the Jedi really was stumbling, his energy burning up faster than he could think.

Then they were stopped, hands were on his shoulders. Black spots dotted his vision, but things were quiet finally and Quinlan could swear he wasn’t standing any longer. All that really mattered was how he could still sense Fox, reaching out and focusing on that steady and clever soul in order to find the motivation to keep moving. 

Well, they must be safe if Fox had stopped them, had begun pressing something against where Quinlan knew his shoulder should hurt but only felt the dull sensation of Fox’s hands.

He always thought Fox had nice hands, strong and sleek with a small scar on his right palm.

Maybe Fox would let him kiss it, just once.

“Don’t- Quinlan!”

[callsign-magnolia]

I Hope You Dance // Ch. 55

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

SURPRISE!

I've been away for a while and I'll be honest, I haven't done a lot of writing. Motivation comes and goes and I feel stuck in most of my stories. But I'm glad to at least get this out to y'all.

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter 54 | Masterlist

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“Honey.” Bradley said, his hand falling to rest on my thigh. “Yeah?” I asked as he forced my leg to stop bouncing. “It’ll be okay.” He said before leaning over and kissing my temple and I sighed. “I just… I want answers.” I said looking down at him and he gave me a small smile. “I know and in time we’ll have them.” I huffed and sat back on the squeaky exam table. “I hate when you’re being wise.” I said and he chuckled. “Just trying to help.” He took my hand and squeezed it every few seconds until the doctor came in. “Good morning!” Dr. Bearden said as he came in. “Good to see you again, Lieutenant. And you must be the fiancee!” He said, reaching to shake Roosters hand. “Yes, this is my fiancee Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.” I smiled, lifting my hand to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Two very accomplished naval aviators. You two are quite the pair.” He said opening his Ipad. “Now, last time you were here we did your annual exam and we did some blood work to test for infertility.” I nodded at him. “All the blood tests were normal. But this time I would like to do a thyroid function panel and a transvaginal ultrasound.” He said and I nodded. “I’ll have the phlebotomist come in here and draw your blood then I’ll be back to do your ultrasound.” I nodded and he stepped out. “You okay?” Bradley asked and I nodded. “Yeah, I’m just ready for this to be over.” I said. After a minute the phlebotomist came in. Bradley turned his head away as she drew all the tubes she needed and only when she had the tubes in hand, hiding the contents did he look back at me. 

“I really hate blood.” He said and I giggled. “I know, honey.” I leaned over, kissing his temple. The chair he sat in next to the tall exam table made it hard to reach him. “Alright!” Dr. Bearden came back in with an ultrasound machine in tow. “So for this I’m going to need your feet in the stirrups.” He set the stirrups up and I slid down, putting my feet in them. Immediately Bradley stood, coming to stand next to me and hold my hand as Dr. Bearden slid a cover over the transducer. “Slide down to the edge a little more for me.” I did as he asked, feeling like I was about to slide off the end. I looked up at Bradley and his eyes were wide and I looked to see what he was looking at. Dr. Bearden was putting lube on the transducer and it was so long. “Now, this may be a little uncomfortable.” I squeezed Bradley’s hands as he pressed the transducer in. It was definitely uncomfortable. Bradley used both of his hands to lift my one to his lips, kissing it. Dr. Bearden stared at the screen as he clicked a few things. I couldn’t help but think about Bradley and I being in this exact position, hoping to see our baby for the first time. I was broke out of my daydream by Dr. Bearden's voice. “You see these lines here?” He asked, pointing to the screen. “Yeah.” Bradley said and Dr. Bearden looked at me for my answer. “Yes.” I muttered. “These lines are accurate with uterine scarring.” My heart dropped as he removed the transducer and his gloves. 

“Caila. When you had your placental abruption, your placenta ripped away from your uterus, causing your miscarriage. When that happened, it left scarring along your uterus. There’s a number of things this means but with the amount of scarring you have, I’ll be honest, it looks like it has almost obliterated your uterus. This can prevent an embryo from implanting; it can block the fallopian tubes, meaning sperm may never reach an egg.” Tears streamed down my cheeks and I tried to hold back my sobs. “It is not impossible by any means. I still think you have a chance of getting pregnant, but I would label you as high risk.” I took a deep breath as Bradley moved my hair out of my face. “Remember what I said to you at your last appointment? A lot of women have these problems and you’re not alone. Going to see a fertility doctor is very common for people on the journey to creating a family. It doesn’t make you less of a woman if you need helping to conceive.” I nodded. “When you do want to start trying, start taking prenatal vitamins. They jury is still out on if they can actually help you conceive. But it can help to make your pregnancies healthier and the longer you take it, the better the effects you’ll have.” He gave me a small smile. “Thanks Dr. Bearden. We’ll keep it all in mind.” With that Dr. Bearden gave me a sad look. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll go ahead and start the checkout process for you?” He quickly stood, walking out of the room. A single sob escaped me before I got a hold of myself, standing and grabbing my clothes. Bradley helped me in silence before we walked out of the exam room. We checked out quickly and I all but sprinted out of the office, keeping my head down as to not see all the pregnant women that were waiting. 

We took the elevator back down to the second level of the parking garage and it seemed like the longest ride of my life. I stayed silent the whole way down and as soon as the elevator doors opened I made a beeline for the Bronco. “Honey-” I cut him off by opening my own door and getting in, almost slamming the door closed. I heard him sigh before he got into the driver's seat. I couldn’t look at him, not while I knew that I was the reason we would struggle to have a baby after the wedding. He started the Bronco and backed out of the spot and as soon as we were in drive he took my hand, kissing my knuckles before resting our intertwined fingers on my denim clad thigh. Tears silently ran down my cheeks as I rubbed my thumb along his hand and looked at my ring as it glinted in the light. I was marrying the literal man of my dreams and here I am, wondering how he could want me if I couldn’t give him kids like he wanted. We rode in silence and as we stopped I looked up seeing we were in a drive thru of a local coffee shop that I liked to visit with Phoenix occasionally. Bradley placed an order for a medium black coffee and a large iced mocha. After a few minutes we got our drinks and Bradley let go of my hand long enough to hand me mine before he placed his in the cupholder by the gear shift. I stared down at my coffee as Bradley drove a few minutes to pull into a parking lot in front of the beach. As soon as he put it in park he turned to me, sticking a straw in my drink. “Look at me.” I took a deep breath before casting my gaze up to him. “I am marrying you. I’m marrying you because I love you, not because we could have a baby together. I’m marrying you with or without kids and I am perfectly happy if we spend the rest of our lives together, just me and you and no one else.” A sob immediately hit me as he finished. I held my coffee tightly with both hands as he slid closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling my head to rest on his own shoulder. “I love you.” I managed to choke out. I heard him chuckle as he held me. “I love you too, Mags.” I knew he meant it, but I still didn’t miss the tear that fell into my hair. 

We spent hours at the beach yesterday sitting in the bronco or walking on the beach. Once the tears stopped it became a very good day and it played on repeat in my brain all day today. It was Thursday, the day before we flew out to Tennessee. “Ready for your trip?” Mav asked. I passed him as I was heading out. I nodded at him. “Very ready.” He smiled at my answer. “You guys deserve it. See you Monday, Magnolia.” I nodded and got in the jeep to go home. I was exhausted, so tired from being in the air all day. And not sleeping the night before. I tossed and turned not sure why I wasn’t sleeping. Bradley slept like a rock next to me, his snoring not helping my interim insomnia. But it also made me feel better because there was a time I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear him snoring again. I was sluggish getting out of the car, my body feeling heavy. I dragged my duffel out of the trunk thinking about how grateful I was to be home and done with work for the week. I managed to unlock the door and slide inside, the dogs rushing to greet me as I did. I sighed in relief as I dropped my duffel and bent down to pet them until they calmed down. Once they were satisfied I sat down and untied my boots. I moaned as I slid them off, massaging the sole of my foot a little before finally standing. I simply wanted a shower but I yelped in surprise as I was suddenly lifted and pinned to the wall, lips pressed to mine. I could tell it was Bradley, easy, I could pick him out of a room blindfolded. His cologne invaded my senses and his lips felt a certain way against mine. “Bradley.” I muttered, pulling away. He redirected his attention to my neck and a shiver ran up my spine.

I tried to hold back a moan but it was futile. “Bradley.” I felt him harden against my core and my brain went fuzzy. “Say my name again.” He muttered as he dragged his lips up my neck. “You have to stop.” I said, trying to keep my fingers out of his hair knowing it would only encourage him. “I’ve been cleared.” He muttered, squeezing a handful of my ass through my flight suit. “Your appointment isn’t until nine tomorrow morning. You haven’t actually been cleared yet.” His appointment was the one thing we had to do before our flight tomorrow. He pulled away from my neck, grinning up at me. “They had a cancellation. I got in today and I am completely cleared.” Tears welled in my eyes. I knew he’d probably be cleared, but to have confirmation of that was so relieving. “Really?” I asked, giving in and letting my fingers trail into the hair on the back of his head. “I’m in perfect health. Stitches are healed, everything sounds good and looks good. I could do everything I could do before.” It was like a weight lifted off me and he leaned in, kissing me. “That means I can do whatever I want to my fiance, and I think I’ll start up in our room.” He turned to take us up the stairs and I couldn’t help but laugh. “We still have to pack.” I thought he might stop and put me down, but he continued right up the stairs. “I already packed the suitcases while you were at work and we now have a nine a.m. flight instead of a noon flight.” 

I furrowed my brows as he topped the stairs. “How did you change the flights?” I asked and he grinned at me. “I called the airline, had them change it and begged them to not email you about the change.” He kicked the door closed behind us before dropping me onto the neatly made bed. “Of course you did.” I remarked as he crawled over me. “Roo, I haven’t showered yet.” I said, my hands on his shoulders. He smirked at me before grabbing the zipper of my flight suit. “That’s okay.” He buried his nose in my neck. “I love when you smell like jet fuel. Besides, you’d need a second shower anyway after I’m done with you.” He dragged the zipper down, and I didn’t dare stop him.  He jerked my flight suit off my shoulders and pulled it down my waist. He stood from the bed, grabbing my ankles and dragging me to the end of the bed. He slowly pulled off my socks before kissing my ankles, holding my gaze as he did. I loved when he was like this. Sweet and almost primal. It was like two sides of him colliding. I lifted my hips for him to slip my flight suit off and as soon as he did he tossed it to some corner of the room.. I wasn’t sure which though. Because I was too busy watching him sink to his knees before me. Denim clad legs hit the floor as I sat up, leaning back on my hands. His large hands gripped my thighs and I was surprised at how big they looked against my legs. He pushed my legs farther apart and my chest heaved as he placed kisses on my inner thigh. He worked his way to my core, placing a kiss on me over my white thong. His hands slid up to my hips and his fingers curled into my waist band. His eyes met mine and I lifted my hips for him to pull my panties off, which he did agonizingly slow. He tossed them behind him and he inched forward ever so slightly before leaning in, running his tongue along my slit. 

I cried out as he found my clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking. I scooted closer, my fingers tugging on his curls as his arms wrapped around my thighs. “Oh, Roo!” It’s been so long since we’ve touched each other like this and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came and Rooster knew it too. His tongue delved inside me and I gasped at the sensation. I felt Rooster’s hand on my belly and he pushed me to lay back. My hands stayed in his hair as he moved my legs to be tossed over his shoulders, allowing him to plunge deeper into my core. I was a mess and whining as he ran his hands up my body, reaching under my shirt to grip my breasts through my bra. The knot in my stomach grew tighter and Bradley shifted his hands to slip underneath my bra and pinch my nipples lightly which caused my back to arch ever so slightly. “Oh god! I’m close. Roo-” I was cut off as my orgasm hit me and I gasped. He didn’t stop. Working me over until my body was shaking. He was breathing heavily as he stood. He leaned over my now limp body. “You okay?” He asked with a devilish grin. “I’m great.” I replied and he smiled, leaning down to kiss me. His hands rested on my sides and I tasted myself on his lips, I remembered how euphoric it really was. My hands rose to rest on his neck, losing myself in him. He pushed my black undershirt up and we separated long enough for him to pull it over my head. He pulled me to sit up, reaching behind me and flicking the hooks of my bra, causing them to let loose so he could drag it down my arms. He held my gaze as I leaned forward, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He had this planned because he didn’t have on an undershirt, which he always does.

I pushed my hands to his shoulders, slowly sliding his shirt off as I placed a kiss just above his belly button. So many weeks of not being in the gym made him soft. He was still fit, distractingly so, but his abs weren’t as defined anymore. I loved it though. His shirt fell to the floor and I immediately went for the buttons of his jeans. He helped me push them down and he stepped out of them, leaving him in his white boxer briefs which he knew drove me crazy. He was rock hard and it was incredibly obvious in the white underwear. I placed a kiss on the outline of his cock and he leaned his head back, sighing as he did. I grabbed his waistband and pulled them off just like he did me, tossing them to some forgotten corner. He hissed as his cock slapped his lower torso and I smirked. I leaned forward with my tongue out as I licked from his base to his tip before taking most of him in my mouth. I felt him take my hair that was in a bun, in his hands, bobbing my head on him a few times before pulling me off him. He leaned down, his eyes meeting my own. “When I come, I want to be inside you. Now, move back.” A shiver ran down my spine at his words and I moved myself back up the bed. He followed immediately and pushed me to lay back. He slotted himself between my thighs before laying his body weight on me. His lips landed on mine and I moaned as his hands grazed my sides. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails grazing his skin. “I missed you today.” He said before turning his attention to my neck. “I’ve been going crazy being here while you’re at work.” He kissed the hollow of my throat as he worked his way down to my chest. “But today was especially difficult.” He muttered against my skin. “You know why?” He asked, knowing my head would be fuzzy. “Because I knew exactly what I could do to you when you came in the door.” 

I moaned as he took my nipple between his teeth. I spread my legs more, feeling the head of his cock nudging my thigh. “Bradley, please.” I was not above begging. I never was with him, and he knew it. “I love it when you ask nicely.” He sat up on his knees, hiking my legs over his hips and drawing me closer. He lined himself up before pushing against me and I gasped as I felt him. He stopped, stilling his hips before he leaned back over me and kissing me. “Roo, please.” I knew he was teasing me and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. “Not yet, pretty girl. It’s been six weeks. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his lips dragging across my face. He stared down at me as he pulled out slightly, before pushing in a little farther than last time. “You like that, pretty girl?” He asked and I moaned in response. “God I can’t wait to have my cock buried inside you.” He slowly pushed his way deeper, each thrust allowing him to enter me another inch by another inch. Finally, he was buried to the hilt inside me. “Bradley.” I gasped out. My arms wrapping around him and my nails digging into his skin. “You’re so tight, pretty girl.” He moaned at a particularly smooth thrust. He dropped his forehead to mine again, his lips landing on my nose for a split second as he stilled inside me. “Mm… so full.” I muttered. Any time Bradley and I have sex, I basically go dumb. “I know, pretty girl. I know.” He slowly started rolling his hips, causing him to slip out and the angle was just right for him to hit that soft spot inside of me. “Oh fuck. Roo.” He knew what he was doing and he gave me a wide mischievous smile. “You like that, honey? You like taking my cock.” I moaned and gasped as he trailed his fingers down my abdomen, all the way till he brushed my clit. “Don’t rush it, Bradley.” I said as I reached down and grabbed his wrist. 

He raised a brow at me before chuckling and removing his hand. “Whatever you want, Mags.” He tucked one hand under my back and intertwined the fingers of his left hand with my right. He put pressure on my back, causing me to arch ever so slightly and a moan escaped him as the angle shifted. I grinned at him. “I love when you make noises for me.” His face tinged red at my words. He rarely made any noise other than grunting and dirty talk in bed. I could tell I caught him off guard with what I said, but it was true. I squeezed my pelvic floor, clenching around him and causing his thrusts to stutter. He cut his eyes to mine before pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into me. I yelped and he just chuckled. His thrusts grew rougher and he sat back on his knees again. He pinned my hips to the bed, the pressure adding to how he felt inside me. “Gonna cum so deep inside you, Mags.” His chest was heaving and sweat started forming on his neck and chest. I reached out, gripping his forearms as he fucked me. I wanted to speak, say anything to agree with him. But I couldn’t do much of anything except hasp and moan. A familiar feeling started to grow in my belly, one that I experienced only a few minutes ago. “Need you to cum on my cock, pretty girl.” He leaned over me again, his hand reaching down once more to touch me and this time, I didn’t stop him. “I want to feel you cum around me. Need it.” I tossed my arms around him again, one hand tucked around between his shoulder blades and the other fisting the curls at the back of his head. “Oh god, Bradley! Yes! Yes!” I chanted, knowing it would only spur him on. 

He wrapped his arms around me, one hand on my waist, the other creeping around my shoulder for leverage. His forehead pressed to mine and his hot breath fanned my face. Our lips barely brushed together and it felt like fireworks went off everywhere inside my body. “I love you, Mags. More than anything.” All I could do in response was tilt my head up and kiss him. His hips stuttered before he buried himself deep inside me, practically flooding me with his release. I never thought I could miss being this close to someone. He was breathing heavily as he leaned his head on my chest. I felt him move his hand from my shoulder and I whimpered as the rough skin of his hand nudged my clit again. He listed himself off of me just enough to be in a good position to work me towards my orgasm and take my right nipple in his mouth. That coupled with him still buried inside me sent me straight over the edge. I gasped and my body shook harshly as Bradley slowly brought me down from my high. We stayed like that for who knows how long before he finally lifted his head. He stared at me, a dopey grin on his face as my mind raced. What we just did got me thinking about everything Dr. Bearden said in my appointment. “I want to start taking prenatal vitamins.” His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?” He sat up, straddling my legs and I nodded. “Are we still waiting until after the wedding?” I sat up and grabbed his hands in mine. “Yeah.” I said quietly. “I just want to take them because when the time comes we have a higher chance of having a healthy pregnancy.” He smiled at me before leaning down and kissing my forehead. “Of course,” I started, catching his attention. “This means we’ll have to use condoms. Every time.” He groaned, falling onto the bed beside me. “We’re gonna go broke buying condoms.” I laughed loudly at his words. He pulled me down next to him and squeezed me. “Hungry?” He asked. “Yes. But I need a shower first. I smell like sweat and jet fuel and I do not like the combination.” He got up and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get you in the shower then.” 

The next morning I was incredibly sore between my legs. “You okay, honey?” Rooster asked, leaning down and brushing my hair from my face. “I hurt.” I mumbled, still half asleep. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve been gentler with you. “He kissed me on the cheek. “I promise I’ll be more gentle next time.” I hummed, stretching my arms over my head. “Uber will be here in an hour. I’ve laid out some pants and one of my t-shirts for you.” I smiled at him. “Thank you, honey.” It took me a few minutes to finally get up and I dragged when I finally did. I slowly got dressed and braided my hair before making my way downstairs. “Coffee?” Bradley asked and I shook my head. “No. I’ll just drink water for now.” He smiled and drank his coffee. “So, what car did you rent?” He asked. “A Silverado.” I replied and he fake gasped. “We are a Ford family. The jeep is the exception.” I laughed loudly. “We are a ‘whatever is affordable’ family.” He laughed, stepping behind me and kissing my head. “I like when you’re frugal.” I hummed. “Wait until I tell you I started buying certain foods only if they’re on sale.” He groaned, wrapping his arms around me. “I love you.” He said and I turned in his arms. “I love you too.” 

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Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @fanboyswhore9 @kmc1989 @sunderland-6 @mygyn @halstead-severide-fan

[theheromira]

Nimona appreciation post (Part 3 of idk even know how many)

Hi guys, I'm back with Part 3. Sorry about the delay, I tend to procrastinate even if something has to do with my newest hyperfixation lol (Pic for attention, like always lol)

at the beginning he says to Amb that he's not brooding and now he tells Nimona that "Knights don't mope, they brood."

"Murder him, murdder her, murder everyone!" aaand there is Amb standing int the door and Bals pose XD

Amb lil smile when he sees Bal. He probably thought that he killed Bal and seems glas that he's not

Also him just looking at Bals arm

Nimonas lil "Gesundheit" is way better in the english version ngl

Nemesis 😈

"Oh, look! It's Gloreth!" and the knights behind them actually look in the direction she pointed at

Amb acting like he was about to draw his sword and looking like they just caught him doing something forbidden like I don't even know

Bals almost defeated face at the beginning of the closet scene

Nimona just casually ripping that pipe out of the wall

Bals hamster cheeks when she grabs his face

that die-in-the-closet-dialogue felt very strange to me but I still don't completely understand how people can hate people who have a different orientation than them (sexual or not, I don't know how to say that exactly but I hope you kinda understand me?). There shouldn't be a problem about dying in a closet in real life and I really understand why people are so close-minded and this is still happening, I guess. Why does this "kids movie" motivate me to think about this kind of issue so much? But I guess it's a good thing, I'm probably/definitely not the only one who watched Nimona and really started to think about this (and the other themes of this movie)

also Nimona literally coming out of the closet (as a shape-shifter) is like really nice, I love little things like that in movies that you maybe not even register at first

I like to think that the axe opening the door is a little "Shining" reference

Nimona casually catching the arrow before her face

Bal being the competent idiot that he is grabbing the first thing his hand finds to use as a weapon without even looking

"Even if you see the horn?"

"I will not freak… Uhhh" with that face XD

I just looove her line "This is the part where you run.", how she looks at the knights and how they start to panic

Bals face while getting out of the closet is like: What the everloving hell did just happen/is just happening?

"Yeah" "Oh no! Stay away! Get back! No! This is not happening!" XD

Amb just being bamboozled and proving that he's at least a bit of a Nerd (who other then a Nerd or a Zoologist would call a Rhino by it's full name)

"Leave that guy alone!" "Take that" bonks him away with her horn lol, they are such a good duo

Stairs are either your best friend (Nimona seemingly) or your worst enemy (Kungfu Panda)

Bal just being completely like a fish out of water by what is happening during that chase is also kinda hilarious

Also him still having the brain to tell her she needs to go right in all of this mayhem is very competent of him, I stan him just a bit ngl

the whale

hey def needed a meeting table that round, they are a kingdom of knights

loving that Todd gets the tiny d*** joke, one of the best jokes in the movie and this movie has a lot of good ones

THE MUSIC <3

Now he wants the staircase, Bal really should make up his mind XD

I'm a bit sad that the original BlueSky-Scene where she changes into a dragon didn't make it in there but this is also fine, I guess

How did Bal survive that fall?

also loving how he just slides the last few metres face down lol

Nimona looking at Bal before she says her "Something, something, something, we win." was kinda cute

Explosions! "Metal" Also: stuff like this reminds me of a kind of old scetch from a comedian (I know the guy from some youtube vids of different poetry slams but he is a comedian now) I like pertaining bear catapults (I def will get myself some tickets if he ever does a show near me, the guy is hilarious)

Bal looking kinda chill (he prob has a concussion and isn't quite there, I guess) at the different things that fly towards them and then focusing on that little bit of debris that knocks him out (and the sound he makes when he gets hit) lol

Sooo, that was it for part 3. Short I know, but I think I will try to get these posts out and ngl my attention span is a bit short at the moment… with this kind of post thats more on the short site I believe I can stay on the topic and not procrastinate that much. Maybe there will also be some longer ones inbetween, we will see. Have a good one guys ^^

[coldhndss]

──★ ˙ ̟ Blue Lock matchup No.5 @mooncakes-and-peaches

Hello! This is my last current matchup. I’ll be writing more soon as I have 3 shorter bonus ones planned for the few people who sent in after the cut-off. I’ll be opening them up again soon once I find I have more free time! I also have some special types of matchups planned so stay tuned!

So anyways, some of the things you noted in your matchup felt really refined and sort of sophisticated, in a way? So, with that, I decided to match you to Reo Mikage!

I know you’re anime only, and so matching you to Reo might not make much sense now, but his personality really shines through in the manga, and I might write a bit over my intended limit trying to prove that to you, so hear me out!

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I'm a huge homebody. I enjoy watching TV… drawing occasionally.. writing ideas and characters for stories…” 

“…and working out (my goal is to look fit and I’ve actually managed to get some muscle!) I like playing tennis, but I have to be in the mood and the weather has to be right.” 

If you’ve read most of my matchups so far, I’ve said this same thing a few times, but most of your description sort of gave me Reo vibes (if that makes sense). We know that canonically, Reo is/was studious in school, achieved high marks and always performed well in what he did/does. Despite this, I feel as though he’d definitely enjoy staying home after a long day of training (as anyone else probably would). Though, Reo would definitely motivate you to play more tennis; he’d probably see potential in your skills despite you having specific conditions to be in the mood to play right! He’d also bring you along when he has training at the gym, and the two of you would train together, and this way, the both of you can meet your fitness goals together. Though on those off days when the both of you aren’t in the right mood to go to the gym, you’d stay home, and binge watch a TV show together, sharing a bowl of popcorn and different types of chocolates that he picked up from a super-high-end chocolatier earlier that day. I feel like Reo, being the rich kid that he is, is probably used to super refined tastes, like 95%+ dark chocolate. I’m not sure whether you like dark chocolate or not (personally, I absolutely love it) but if you don’t he’d try to convince you to try it, and if you do, the two of you would eat the box of chocolates together.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I'll let things slide here and there, but I've never been a big risk-taker/have been rebellious. At the same time, and I know this is contradicting, I'm a very lazy individual, but recently I've been doing better doing what needs to be done and more.”

Seeing as Reo is kinda a textbook spoiled rich kid, he also carries a little bit of a ‘look at me, I’m following the rules’ kind of personality, but not necessarily in a bad way. Seeing as you’re someone who seems to avoid trouble, he may see you as a ‘refined’ individual and take interest in that. We know that Reo is a huge business and stocks nerd, (duh) his family says it all. So, I’d imagine that he’d constantly yap to you about those types of things, asking you if you’ve seen the stocks today, and always telling you and about the shifting economic state of whichever country is on his mind today. I may be wrong about this, but in the case that you do know about those types of things (I def do not) I can imagine the two of you talking about it for hours. In the case that you don’t really know much about business-y type things, you’d listen to him talk and talk about something he read in a book he bought earlier that day, only to end his yap session by saying: 

“Well, I don’t really care since I don’t want my dad’s company anyway. I’ve got Nagi, and together, our soccer will…”. Congratulations, yap session number 2 is about to begin! Although, you don’t really mind, because seeing Reo finally have something to call his own brings a special type of warmth to your heart. His newfound motivation towards wanting to be good at something that he grew from nothing himself definitely makes you feel like you can motivate yourself to build your own skill at things that you already enjoy doing. 

I’d imagine that Reo would obviously bring you to meet Nagi. He’d take you along to watch him practice one time and introduce you to his closest friends (literally only Nagi, maybe Chigiri? – but I won’t spoil anything for you). Seeing as you didn’t mention soccer as one of your interests he might suggest that the three of you play a sport together one day, and you’d suggest tennis. With Nagi being the talented freak he is, his general skill in almost anything he does may physically exhaust you, with you opting to watch him and Reo go against each other in a match while you keep the scores. That’s not to say that you’re bad at playing tennis, of course. Nagi is (was) known to make these types of underhanded comments at another person who isn’t up to his skill level (😭). 

―୨୧⋆ ˚  “I don't have an aesthetic, I just like to wear whatever is comfy and don't really stray from my regular stuff (another thing I need to work on).”

Given his riches, Reo would obviously have expensive taste. If I’m not wrong, he wears designer clothes and all that jazz. So, seeing as you also have a super self-improving orientated mindset, (in my opinion) he’d always motivate you to do new things and open your avenues up a little. That’s why I think he’d pamper you with new clothes, or randomly take you ‘shopping’ where in reality he takes you to get one of those colour analyses, where the person would help you figure out what colour ‘looks best’ on you. He’d pay extra attention to it and buy you things based on what the analyst says. Of course, he takes it with a grain of salt, and lets his personal opinion seep through when buying you gifts. As for you, you’d give him a little ‘fashion show’ where you try on the clothes he bought you so as to not disappoint him, even if they’re not really your style. In the end, you’d pick out a couple pieces that you ended up liking a lot and scold him for splurging (just because he has tons of money, doesn’t mean he should spend it all!). He’d also take note of the types of things you ended up keeping and use it as reference for his next shopping haul for you. From personal experience, he knows that money isn’t the only thing that can keep a person happy, so he definitely tries to not overwhelm you with all his gifts and stuff. Seeing you smile and be content is one of the most important things to him, and he’d be absolutely torn if he was the reason for you to feel any sort of sadness.

[hail-americas-ass]

🔆JUNE FIC REC II

✒ a greek tragedy by ash 

(I can’t express enough how amazing this is) 4.6K Words

When Steve started drawing the comic, he drew himself before the serum and Bucky as he remembered him when they worked together to keep from ending up on the streets and dreamed of futures with floating cars. He drew them then and now, scenes against a New York he remembered and scenes against this future he didn’t quite fit in, one drawn soft and hazy, the other hard lines. When he drew them in the present, he never drew himself looking at Bucky; Bucky was always behind him, a shadow that followed as he tried to find a trace of the world they used to know in this one. He called them Orpheus and Eurydice.

🦾  Touch Me I’m Going to Scream by buffypeppers

(This is a classic in my opinion. It’s got recovering!Bucky and every trope you can imagine, so very fluffy) 107.5K Words

Only a few days have passed since the Winter Soldier put Sam into a hospital bed but Steve is ready to find HYDRA’s assassin and bring him to justice.

Things won't go according to plan once the Avengers find the infamous man.

🕵️‍♂️ End of all Days by Minka ( @minka-g​ on tumblr)

(I was motivated to reread this recently, it kept me on the edge of my seat the first time I read it and it had the same thrilling effect when I reread it too. There’s only one word to describe it: thrilling.) 

(Archeological Historian!Steve x Spy!Bucky) (Indiana Jones & Atomic Blonde AU)  116.7K Words

Captain Steve Rogers had thought his military days were behind him, left in the bloody nightmare that was Saigon. Retired and working as a History Professor, the last thing he expected was to get caught up in a cataclysmic Slavic prophesy foreshadowing the end of the known world.

With Cold War tensions running high, Steve finds himself in need of a guide and translator to get him behind the Iron Curtain and into the isolated snowdrifts of Siberia.

It’s deep in the heart of Bucharest’s resistance fighters that Steve finds the ideal candidate, but swaying the enigmatic ex-operative known as The Winter Soldier proves to be complicated. Trust is hard-won, especially in the world of espionage, and with a KGB death squad nipping at his heels, the Soldier has countless reasons to stay presumably dead.

As the lines between right, wrong and the supernatural begin to blur, Steve is forced to reconsider everything he’s ever believed, right from the sanctity of his own country to the very foundations of creation itself.

❤️‍🩹 Every Door Opens by Notoska ( @notoska on tumblr)

(This fic, the words and the way they were written, not only yanked my heart out of my chest, it also sunk deep in my bones where I was forced to carry it and think of it for days. Fantastic.) Recovery fic. 73.9K Words

Then Bucky licks his lips, tip of his tongue just grazing the sensitive skin of Steve’s ear and Steve moans. Nothing close to the surge of lust behind his ribs, but a tiny, breathy sound all the same. Bucky doesn’t react—he must not have heard. Though a minute later he curls his fingers and extends them again, moving just slow enough for it to be a caress.

Just tip your head into his touch. He’ll take the lead and trace the folds of your ear with his tongue until you can’t keep quiet any more. Then he’ll smother your desperate little noises with his mouth, fingers twisting in your hair. Kissing deeply, tongues reaching to declare your filthy intentions. Find his knee with your hand and slide wolfishly up his thigh until you reach the bulge behind his fly. Palm him through his trousers until he’s panting in your mouth, until he’s pressing his forehead to yours, hips bucking, and you can see his dark eyes, glinting in the screen’s flickering light, pleading—

Steve jolts back to the present. The credits are rolling and Bucky is reading them as well. The screen blacks and two fluorescent lights buzz to life. Bucky loosens his hand from Steve’s head, welcoming the world back in.

[ellieellieoxenfree]

i miss writing but i also cannot find the magical combination of energy and motivation to write things so here's a kiseki/pokemon crossover wip from like, months ago i wish i could actually fucking finish

Chen Yi didn’t quite understand how he caught the Deoxys — he wasn’t seeking one out; he wasn’t even really looking to add a sixth Pokemon to his team when he already had his hands full juggling five others on top of school, the family business, and, of course, Ai Di.

Ai Di was nearly a job in and of himself. He had just turned ten, which in his mind was most of the way to adulthood, and it was all that Chen Yi could do to keep him on the rails. Nearly every day, he had to drag Ai Di away from Pokemon battles on school grounds — his team was still green, only two strong, and Ai Di had earned their immense loyalty but was less capable at controlling their vicious tempers. Chen Yi had needed to get good at dodging acid attacks from Ai Di’s Bellsprout and sweeping up dirt from his Oddish, who he suspected was deliberately making a mess just to be antagonistic.

He was at what Chen Dong Yang called a ‘difficult age,’ a charitable way of calling him a pain in Chen Yi’s backside. He was, of course, Chen Yi’s responsibility, because Chen Dong Yang was too busy with the running of Yiyun Meng to look after an extra child, and Ai Di usually did the opposite of what Chen Dong Yang said anyway. Chen Yi could get him to listen sometimes, but those times seemed to happen with less and less frequency these days.

So walking in the door with a Deoxys was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday afternoon. He was already consumed with thoughts of math tests and a history presentation and how to get Ai Di to school in the morning without drawing too much blood, and then it — well, Chen Yi wasn’t sure how it had happened. He didn’t remember encountering the Deoxys; none of his Pokemon were strong enough to counteract one so powerful; and yet there he was, coming home with it hovering a few inches off the ground right behind him and occasionally emitting an unsettling, machine-like sound.

‘Are you mine now?’ he said. ‘Are you staying?’

The Deoxys made another sound Chen Yi couldn’t interpret. His Swoobat chittered a bit. The others were peacefully napping in their Pokeballs, so whatever their opinions were on the matter, he wasn’t sure.

‘I don’t know if I can keep you,’ Chen Yi said. The Deoxys was a little taller than him, and it kept waving its long, thin arms at him in a way Chen Yi couldn’t determine was comforting or terrifying. Its eyes were sharp and perceptive.

He tried again. ‘Are you looking for something?’

The Deoxys looked at him and was silent.

‘I don’t know how to care for you,’ Chen Yi said, and his Swoobat divebombed at him with an irritated sound, plucking at the straps of his backpack. It reminded him, as it often did, of Ai Di — small, insistent, and sometimes a bit of a nuisance, but it had been the first Pokemon he’d caught and he was as attached to it as he was to Ai Di.

His backpack started sliding off his shoulders without warning. ‘Hey!’ Chen Yi protested, twisting around, only to have it slide off completely and open of its own accord. He watched a pocket zip open and his Pokedex float upwards and hover in midair. The Deoxys looked at him pointedly and gestured at the Pokedex with one of its — arms? Tentacles? Chen Yi wasn’t sure what to think of them as.

‘You’re a space virus,’ Chen Yi read aloud from his Pokedex. ‘And you have psychokinetic powers.’ He swore that the Deoxys looked a bit smug about that piece of information. ‘But what do you want with me?’

His Swoobat flew up to the Deoxys — for such a tiny Pokemon, it truly had no fear — and peered at it. After a few moments of examination, he returned to Chen Yi’s shoulder and dug its little claws into his shirt. ‘Don’t do that. You’ll put holes in it,’ Chen Yi scolded him, only to have his Swoobat ignore him as usual.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked the Deoxys. ‘Do you need to show me something?’

No reaction. The Deoxys just kept watching him with that same inscrutable expression.

‘I have to go home,’ Chen Yi told it, pointing in the direction of the shop. This was a mistake; the Deoxys just immediately began floating in that direction. ‘No! No. That’s my home. Not yours.’

He found out then that the Pokedex was not the only thing the Deoxys could control, and he nearly lost his balance as it nudged him to follow. Every time he stopped or lagged behind, it made sure he kept going.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. The Deoxys, for whatever reason was there and had clearly become fond of him and wasn’t planning on disappearing, and Chen Yi needed to do his homework. He also needed to check in on Ai Di, who had begged off school that morning due to a stomach bug. Chen Yi was reasonably sure the stomach bug was a lie, but Ai Di had locked himself in the bathroom and refused to emerge while his Bellsprout and Oddish stood sentry at the door until Chen Yi had to rush to school to avoid being late.

An Arcanine was snoring lightly at the entrance of the shop. When it heard Chen Yi approaching, it woke up and shook itself before noticing the Deoxys and summarily bolting inside.

‘Don’t upset anybody,’ Chen Yi told the Deoxys. He wasn’t sure if that would do much good with a space virus with a mind of its own, but he would at least try.

The Deoxys, of course, just looked at him and floated after the Arcanine. Chen Yi heard Xin Hao shout in surprise, and he ran in.

Xin Hao looked flabbergasted. Next to him, Qi Xian was trying to comfort his anxious Arcanine.

‘Where did that come from?’ Xin Hao spluttered.

‘It followed me home,’ said Chen Yi, which was the truth. He felt a sudden protectiveness about the Deoxys, which was just floating about looking at its surroundings and occasionally making its odd whir. It wasn’t quite like any of the other Pokemon he had ever encountered; it had a strange, powerful energy he couldn’t quite describe.

‘His little bat isn’t scared of it,’ Qi Xian pointed out. This was true; Chen Yi’s Swoobat was fluttering around the Deoxys and chirping happily.

A door slammed and footsteps stomped. ‘I thought you were sick,’ Xin Hao said, just as a murderous Ai Di appeared at Chen Yi’s elbow. His Oddish and Bellsprout clustered at his feet.

‘Whatever,’ said Ai Di. He looked at Chen Yi, then at the Deoxys, then back at Chen Yi. ‘Is he yours?’

‘Yes,’ said Chen Yi. ‘I think.’

Ai Di thought for a moment, then kicked Chen Yi in the shin. ‘You’re the worst.’ Before Chen Yi could even react to that one, Ai Di stormed back to his room, Pokemon toddling behind him, and slammed the door.

The Deoxys floated off towards Ai Di’s room. ‘Don’t — ‘ Chen Yi scrambled towards it, and the Deoxys turned, its tentacles twitching questioningly. It tilted its head at him. ‘Go sit down, or — ‘ He stopped himself before he could mention a Pokeball. Would a Deoxys be willing to go in the Pokeball? Would this specific Deoxys? ‘Just stay there and don’t do anything.’

He could hear Xin Hao and Qi Xian laughing in the background as he headed for Ai Di’s room. He had to check behind him to ensure that Deoxys wasn’t following him, which it wasn’t, but he was stymied at Ai Di’s door by a glaring Oddish and a Bellsprout that was clearly gearing to hit him with its worst.

‘Ai Di?’ he called from a safe distance. Ai Di’s Bellsprout looked as though it was considering launching itself at his throat anyway.

‘Fuck off,’ Ai Di suggested from behind the door. Chen Yi sighed. Ai Di’s filthy mouth had been getting him into trouble at school so often that Chen Yi had been trying to train him out of profanity, but it wasn’t going well.

‘I just want to explain what happened.’

There was a thump of something hitting the door. ‘Go away and fall in a hole. I hate you.’

‘I didn’t look for the Deoxys,’ Chen Yi said. ‘It just showed up and now it won’t leave me alone.’

‘You’re so special,’ Ai Di shouted from the bedroom. ’The special-est.’

Ai Di’s Bellsprout took a moment then to jab him in the leg — the same one Ai Di had just kicked him in. Its effects were immediate; Chen Yi felt the sensation go out of his calf and went a little woozy. He leaned awkwardly against the wall to brace himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d been poisoned by Ai Di’s Bellsprout, of course. It didn’t happen every time he got jabbed, but the chance was always there, and it was particularly humiliating to have to have the older Yiyun Meng members step in. Still, Ai Di’s Bellsprout could only do so much damage. At its worst, it sent him to puke his guts out for a few hours or thrash about with a fever for a day. It wasn’t exactly enjoyable, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible, but he supposed he was fortunate it couldn’t kill him.

He saw the Deoxys’ orange tentacle out of the corner of his eye, and he shouted, ‘Leave them alone!’

Ai Di yanked his bedroom door open so hard Chen Yi thought he’d rip it off the hinges. ‘If your stupid — thing or whatever it is does anything to my Pokemon — ‘

Chen Yi tried to situate himself between Ai Di and the Deoxys, which unfortunately required him to hop on one leg and try to maintain his balance while his other leg dragged limp and useless. ‘No one is doing anything to your Pokemon, and you’re not doing anything to mine. Got it?’

‘I hope your stupid Pokemon eats you,’ said Ai Di venomously, slamming the door again.

Did Deoxys eat people? Chen Yi wasn’t sure. He didn’t think it even had a mouth. Did viruses need to eat? ‘Come on,’ he said to the Deoxys. ‘Ai Di wants us to leave him alone.’

‘And don’t come back!’ Ai Di shouted.

Deoxys watched him hop along slowly for a moment, and then Chen Yi felt himself rising up off the ground a few inches. ‘I’d prefer not to float,’ he said, and Deoxys dropped him back down. Chen Yi’s numb leg promptly went out from under him, and he ended up a heap on the floor.

‘He’s upset again?’ Xin Hao called from across the shop. ‘Qi Xian, get him the antidote.’

The antidote had an astringent odor and its spray was harsh enough to make him cough, but Chen Yi could feel sensation slowly returning to his leg. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that,’ he muttered to Ai Di’s closed door.

He knew Ai Di wouldn’t speak to him again that evening. He tended to sulk for days when Chen Yi brought home a new Pokemon, and even though Chen Yi had tried to explain numerous times that he was older and had more experience with Pokemon battling and catching and that Ai Di would catch up, Ai Di refused to listen.

‘I have to go do my homework now,’ Chen Yi told the hovering Deoxys, as though it had any concept of what homework was. ‘Do you want to sit with me?’

It did, apparently. It stood next to Chen Yi’s desk while he studied his math problems and waited patiently as he read out his history presentation. Its complete lack of reaction when Chen Yi stumbled over his notes made him feel better, somehow. ‘You’re a very good audience,’ he said. Deoxys extended a tentacle and patted him on the head.

Ai Di pointedly didn’t come to dinner, which was good because Deoxys hovered behind Chen Yi’s chair the entire time. Chen Yi figured the blowup about it would have been even worse than when he’d brought home his Abra, and that had ended in plates flipped in laps and on the floor and Ai Di tearing his room apart before falling asleep on the floor in the tangle of sheets and clothes he’d thrown around. Chen Yi had carried him back to his own room and let Ai Di sleep in his bed, but Ai Di had still woken up early the next morning and crept out and gone right back to giving Chen Yi the silent treatment.

Chen Yi worried that Ai Di thought of it as a competition, which it wasn’t. Or if it was a competition, it wasn’t a fair one — he was older and bigger and stronger and faster than Ai Di, and all of those things played a part. He didn’t want it to be one regardless of advantage or disadvantage. Managing the five Pokemon he’d had meant being careful to balance his time among all of them, and the stress of it would be even more challenging for Ai Di. Besides, Ai Di’s Pokemon were fiercely devoted to him, while Chen Yi sometimes looked at his Lunatone or his Bronzong and wondered if they cared at all.

And now he had a Deoxys to contend with, who seemed to be attached to him, but to what end? Chen Yi felt he had to keep it, but he still hesitated to take out a Pokeball. Was it right to? Would he be able to take care of it?

He told himself he’d figure it out in the morning.

—

Xin Hao greeted him with breakfast and the news that Ai Di had slipped out during the night. ‘What?’ Chen Yi said, half-rising out of his chair. Behind him, Deoxys made a humming noise. Abra, napping a foot to his right, ignored it all.

‘He’s ten,’ said Xin Hao. ‘He’ll be fine.’

‘He’s supposed to be in school!’ Chen Yi said hotly. Certainly, getting Ai Di to attend classes without getting into a fight with a classmate or talking back to a teacher was a challenge, but Chen Yi’s parents had always stressed the importance of education to him and he needed to stress its importance to Ai Di in turn.

‘You’ll miss school if you go look for him,’ said Qi Xian. ‘He’s a man on a mission.’

‘He shouldn’t go out alone. It’s not safe.’

Xin Hao rolled up one pant leg to show a healing acid burn. ‘That Bellsprout of his begs to differ.’

‘And that Oddish doesn’t even care about him,’ added Qi Xian, gesturing at his Arcanine. ‘Never seen a grass Pokemon with so little fear.’

‘Let him be,’ Xin Hao said. ‘He’ll be back in his own time.’

Chen Yi scowled. He knew Ai Di could be better, if given half a chance, but the older members seemed content to let him roam free. Ai Di wasn’t their responsibility, though, so they didn’t need to care. Chen Yi had been responsible for bringing him in, and Chen Dong Yang had tasked him exclusively with looking after him as a result. He was torn. He needed to go to school, but Ai Di was reckless at the best of times and knew how to find trouble more often than a Zubat knew how to find a trainer in a cave.

‘We’ll keep an eye out for the little one,’ Qi Xian said. ‘Eat your breakfast. He’ll be alright.’

Chen Yi crossly ate his breakfast, and crossly got ready for school, and crossly informed Deoxys that it was not going to school with him. ‘Today is Abra’s day,’ he said. He had a very strict schedule about which Pokemon traveled outside of their Pokeballs each day and he hadn’t accounted for Deoxys yet. Besides, it likely wouldn’t be allowed in the classroom. The teachers generally frowned on larger Pokemon as a distraction.

Deoxys, of course, didn’t listen.

‘You have to stay home,’ Chen Yi told it, for the fifth time. ‘I’ll be back when school is over.’

Deoxys made its pensive noise and kept hovering. Chen Yi sighed and gave up. ‘You can’t go past the gates, alright?’

This seemed more or less amenable to Deoxys, who stopped patiently when they arrived at school and nudged him past the entry with one tentacle.

‘Is that a Deoxys?’ one of the older girls said. She had a Yamper sitting on her feet, which she immediately went to shield. ‘How did you get something like that? They’re really scary.’

Her friend, who was cradling a Pidove in her arms, shrank back. ‘Get it away from here. It’s gonna try and destroy the whole place.’

‘It’s not dangerous,’ Chen Yi said. ‘It’s been around other Pokemon and it doesn’t hurt them.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ said the girl with the Pidove. ‘It’s just trying to get you to believe that. It’s a killer.’

Behind him, Deoxys made its odd machine-like noise, a little sadly.

‘It could kill you in your sleep,’ said the girl with the Yamper. Chen Yi could see her backing away slowly.

A group of students was gathering, and the chatter was growing. ‘Where did you find it?’ somebody asked, while somebody else piped up, ‘I bet it could beat Mewtwo in a fight.’

‘It’s dangerous!’ one boy shouted, and another girl started crying a little and saying it was going to bring around the end of the world.

‘It’s not dangerous!’ Chen Yi shouted, planting himself firmly in front of the Deoxys. ‘It’s my friend. It found me and followed me home and it hasn’t done anything to any of my Pokemon. Look.’ He pulled out his Pokeball and released his Swoobat, who promptly went over and flapped around the Deoxys’ head. There was a collective gasp as the Deoxys reached one tentacle out to it, but it just patted Swoobat, to the bat’s delight.

‘For now,’ said the boy who’d called the Deoxys dangerous. ‘What happens when it gets mad?’

Chen Yi clenched his fists. ‘Only an idiot would make it mad. So do you wanna try?’

‘Break it up, break it up!’ a voice called. Mr Luo, Chen Yi’s history teacher, was coming over to the school gates, but he stopped dead when he saw the Deoxys. ‘What on earth?’

Chen Yi missed the way Xin Hao and Qi Xian had taken the Deoxys’ arrival in stride. Everyone here at school panicked about Deoxys trying to kill them, whereas at home, most of the men he lived with were convinced Articuno was a fairy tale. A Pokemon who, as his Pokedex had explained, was a space virus with unimaginable power, was treated with the same gravity as a freshly-caught Pidgey. If he’d tried to tell them Deoxys could blow up the whole building, they’d laugh him right out of it. As far as they were concerned, it was just a funny pet who could reach a tall shelf.

‘It’s a Deoxys, sir,’ one of the girls said. ‘He shouldn’t be here.’

‘That’s for sure,’ said Mr Luo. ‘You know the rules on Pokemon sizes at school.’

There was an immediate protest. ‘But it’s a Deoxys! Don’t you know how powerful they are? They — ‘

Mr Luo held up his hand for silence. ‘I have too many things going on today to learn facts about your Pokemon. The rules are clear. Whatever this ox thing is needs to go into a Pokeball or go home.’

Chen Yi turned to the Deoxys. ‘I need you to go home. Please. I’ll come home right after school. Just go home and don’t talk to anybody and don’t do anything until I get back.’

‘Listen to him,’ somebody said. ‘He’s so weird. It’s absolutely gonna burn his house down.’

The Deoxys looked at him for a few moments, then gave him its usual pat and floated off back down the street. Another flurry of murmurs followed it.

‘Now come on,’ Mr Luo said. ‘The bell’s about to ring.’

Chen Yi had to focus harder than usual at keeping his worry about Ai Di and Deoxys contained to sealed boxes in his brain. He was worried that Ai Di would get himself hurt — he’d spent plenty of nights cleaning up blood from split lips and scraped knees and it hadn’t even been a year ago that Ai Di had spent several weeks with a broken wrist over some incident he refused to divulge — and he didn’t know what to make of the Deoxys. It certainly was giving him no share of trouble, but he couldn’t just send it away. Unless it just left, which was a possibility Chen Yi didn’t want to consider.

Word went around that he had a Deoxys, which mostly meant all of his classmates giving him strange looks or avoiding him. A girl from two classrooms down asked if his Abra was safe with him, while his lab partner asked to be moved so that he didn’t have to sit next to someone who might be radioactive now. Chen Yi just tried to ignore them all and kept his head down. He would get through the day, he would go home, and then he would go figure out what to do with the Deoxys and he would find Ai Di.

—

The Deoxys was patiently waiting outside the shop, emitting a buzzing noise. Qi Xian was next to it, smoking a cigarette. ‘Does it always make this noise?’ he said.

‘Not always,’ said Chen Yi. It had been fairly quiet while he was asleep. It floated over to him and he let it give him its customary head pat.

‘It certainly likes you,’ said Qi Xian. After a wretched day at school, Chen Yi appreciated his entirely nonplussed reaction.

There was a rumbling as Qi Xian’s Golem rolled out into the sunshine. It yawned at Qi Xian, and he rubbed his knuckle into the ridges of its rocky surface. ‘New friend for you,’ he said, shrugging at the Deoxys. The Golem looked at the Deoxys, then yawned again and wandered over to sit in its usual spot, a slightly bowed bit of sidewalk. The Deoxys floated after it and ran its tentacle over the spot where Qi Xian had rubbed, which seemed to please the Golem.

‘He itches sometimes,’ said Qi Xian, by way of explanation. He took another drag off his cigarette. ‘And before you ask, no, Ai Di isn’t home yet.’

Chen Yi sighed. He knew that was going to be the case, but he had hoped against hope that just once, Ai Di would have been responsible enough to come home on his own.

‘Did he say where he was going?’

‘He said that only someone as foolish as Din Tai Fung’s xiao long bao would believe he’d tell us.’ Qi Xian laughed. ‘He isn’t very good at insults yet.’

‘He’s still young,’ Chen Yi said. ‘Leave him alone.’

His ears were burning when he went inside to go change out of his school uniform and gather his supplies for an Ai Di hunt. He knew Qi Xian was just teasing, but it bothered him when they did. Ai Di couldn’t help the way he was. He had started going to school so late that he was constantly behind other students and still trying to catch up with kids younger than him.

The Deoxys, which had followed him inside, poked at his ear. Chen Yi turned to swat at it, but it was just watching him with a curious expression. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Chen Yi said. He wasn’t sure what, particularly, it understood, but its buzzing changed tenor and it backed up a bit until he left the room, his school backpack swapped out for his trainer one, freshly loaded with antidotes and restores.

He had not the faintest clue where to start looking for Ai Di. There were plenty of places Chen Yi had found him in the past, but he had the feeling Ai Di wouldn’t go to any of the usual haunts. The Deoxys, though, seemed to have an idea, and Chen Yi just had to run to keep pace with it.

Chen Yi prided himself on being an active kid, but he was winded by the time the Deoxys started slowing. He was glad he had put on sturdy boots, because the Deoxys was leading him onto muddy, marshy ground. He kept a close eye out for wild Pokemon, but none appeared. Was the Deoxys keeping them at bay?

His heart stuttered when he caught a glimpse of Ai Di, still in yesterday’s red T-shirt, filthy up to the elbows with mud, crouching down with a Pokeball in his hands. He looked up and spotted Chen Yi, then scrambled to his feet, shoving the Pokeball in his pocket, and tried to squelch away as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the combination of unsteady footing and his shorter legs meant that Chen Yi caught up to him fairly quickly, and Ai Di immediately retaliated by hurling a handful of mud at him. Chen Yi dodged as best he could, but a good deal of it still ended up on him. Ai Di flashed a brief grin, and then went back to trying to get away. Chen Yi caught him around the waist.

‘Come on. You’re filthy, and we’re going home.’

‘Fuck you and fuck home,’ Ai Di hissed, wriggling furiously. ‘I’m going out to catch Pokemon and I’m allowed to. I’m ten, so you can’t stop me.’

‘I can too stop you.’

Ai Di kept squirming, and Chen Yi realized he was trying to work one of the Pokeballs free. He pinned Ai Di against him. ‘You know your Pokemon can’t beat mine.’

‘Your Pokemon are stupid,’ Ai Di panted, ineffectually kicking at Chen Yi. ‘Go be friends with your dumb Deoxys and leave me alone.’

The Deoxys floated in front of him and extended a hesitant tentacle. Ai Di stiffened. ‘What the hell do you want?’

‘Stop it!’ Chen Yi shouted at the both of them. He didn’t want Ai Di to antagonize the Deoxys, but he didn’t want the Deoxys to upset Ai Di more than he already was. ‘Can you just please listen to me?’

‘No.’ Ai Di did his best to elbow Chen Yi. ‘I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not going to school and I’m not going home and I’m going to go be a Pokemon trainer.’

‘The boss isn’t going to let you become a Pokemon trainer,’ Chen Yi said.

‘I don’t care what the boss says. I can do what I want.’ Ai Di finally broke himself free of Chen Yi’s grip and folded his arms over his chest. ‘Anyway, if you try to take me home I’m just gonna leave again.’

‘Where will you stay?’ Chen Yi said. ‘What will you eat?’

‘That’s a secret.’ Ai Di picked at a bit of mud that had gone dry on his upper arm. ‘I don’t need you, so just go home.’ His voice was wobbling a little, and he lifted his chin up.

‘I’ll miss you a lot if you don’t come home,’ said Chen Yi.

‘Liar.’

‘Did you catch any Pokemon today?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Okay,’ said Chen Yi. ‘You win. I’m going to go home. I’ll tell everyone you went to be a Pokemon trainer.’

‘Good,’ said Ai Di.

‘Good. See you, then.’ Chen Yi turned to go. The Deoxys buzzed in a low tone somewhere behind his shoulder.

This was a familiar game they played. Sometimes Ai Di would start following him immediately, and sometimes Chen Yi would be halfway home before he heard Ai Di’s footsteps trying to keep pace with his. But he always came home, and more often than not, he showed up in Chen Yi’s room in the middle of the night and crawled into bed like he was a little kid only half his age. Chen Yi always let him do it. The boss said he was indulgent with Ai Di, but Chen Yi didn’t care how indulgent he was if it made Ai Di feel better.

This time, he didn’t like leaving Ai Di behind. The arrival of the Deoxys had clearly hurt him, but Chen Yi knew it was no use trying to get Ai Di to talk about something he didn’t want to. Talking about it was something Ai Di had to decide for himself, and he usually decided that he didn’t want to do it at all. Still, leaving him on his own was a bridge too far for Chen Yi. ‘Come on, let’s just go home,’ he said, only to turn back to where Ai Di had been standing and find the spot empty. He could see a red shape moving at a shocking speed into the distance.

Chen Yi adjusted the straps of his backpack. As stubborn as Ai Di was, his energy wasn’t boundless, and Chen Yi knew his willingness to chase him would last a lot longer than Ai Di’s ability to run.

He looked at the Deoxys, and the Deoxys looked at him, and they set off.

—

The Ai Di they brought home was worn out and filthy, but still ready to fight. He’d dragged his feet at the beginning, tried one last escape attempt halfway through, and finally had just resigned himself to hurling filthy insults the rest of the walk. Chen Yi warned him off using that kind of language, and Ai Di only sneered and cursed more.

Chen Yi said, ‘I know you don’t want to listen to me — ‘

‘So I won’t,’ Ai Di interrupted.

It didn’t do any good to lose his temper, because that’s exactly what Ai Di wanted him to do. He ignored it and carried on. ‘Nothing’s different between us, okay?’

Ai Di stopped dead in his tracks and jabbed an accusatory finger at the Deoxys. ‘That’s different.’

The Deoxys reached out a hesitant tentacle, and Ai Di slapped it away, to Chen Yi’s horror. ‘Don’t fucking touch me. I don’t care if you’re…whatever you are. Don’t touch me.’

‘He’s just curious about you,’ Chen Yi said.

‘I’m not curious about him. I hate him, and I hate you.’

‘Would you like it if I were rude to your Pokemon?’ said Chen Yi.

‘I don’t have to be nice to him just because he’s a god or whatever,’ Ai Di said, which wasn’t answering the question at all. ‘He’s a stupid Pokemon for a stupid trainer.’

Chen Yi understood Ai Di’s frustrations. He was still early in his Pokemon journey — his Abra hadn’t even evolved yet! — and a Pokemon as powerful as Deoxys felt like it should be reserved for a trainer with a much higher stature than him. But it seemed to have chosen him somehow, for some reason, and he took his responsibility seriously when it came to raising his Pokemon.

‘Just because he’s here doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you,’ Chen Yi said. He caught a hopeful sadness in Ai Di’s eyes for just a second, and then it was gone and Ai Di scoffed at him.

‘Go train your dumb Deoxys. I’m busy anyway.’

He pushed past Chen Yi on his way back into the shop. Chen Yi could see his hands balling up into fists as he went.

‘I don’t want him to be mad at me,’ he said to the Deoxys, who put a tentacle on his shoulder and buzzed and chirped a bit at him. Chen Yi wasn’t sure if it was trying to offer comfort, but he decided to interpret it as such. ‘Thank you,’ he said, politely, and the Deoxys whirred at him.

—

Ai Di, of course, wasn’t particularly concerned with Chen Yi’s feelings on the matter, as evidenced by the fact that he spent the whole weekend out hunting for Pokemon. He was gone in the morning when Chen Yi got up, and didn’t come home until it was dark. Chen Yi struggled mightily with not following him. Keeping Ai Di safe was his top priority, but he also knew how wounded Ai Di’s pride was. It would take time for him to recover.

They exchanged not another word that weekend. When he did come home, Ai Di was sullenly silent with everyone at the shop. Chen Yi hated not knowing what he’d done or where he’d gone, which Pokemon he’d battled or trainers he’d squared off against. Selfishly, he wanted to know every piece of Ai Di’s trainer journey, and he knew Ai Di knew that too, which just made everything worse.

And then came Monday. Chen Yi had a feeling that Ai Di would sneak out early to skip school, so he set his alarm significantly earlier than usual to catch Ai Di in the act. All he caught, though, was an empty bed and a messy room. Chen Yi couldn’t even imagine when he could have left — the moon must have still been out. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon now.

He had tried to be patient, but Ai Di had already skipped school on Friday and vanished all weekend. Chen Yi refused to let him do it again. ‘You’re good at this, aren’t you?’ he said to the Deoxys. ‘Knowing where he is.’

He made sure his stocks were replenished and all of his Pokeballs were safely tucked into his bag and a note was left on the table for Xin Hao and Qi Xian before he set out. The Deoxys waited patiently at the door for him. It clearly had a destination in mind, which mystified Chen Yi. He wondered how far it could see, or if it had some odd sixth sense. There was so much about it that was an enigma.

[maffickingcowplants]

With Cassandra and Alexander out for the evening with their respective partners, Mortimer finds himself restless at Goth Manor. The house feels emptier than ever without Bella. Alone with his thoughts, Mortimer is consumed by the mystery of Bella’s disappearance. He’s spent countless hours combing through her computer, her books, and any clue that might shed light on where she went, or who she was working for.

Exasperated, Mortimer calls his brother-in-law, Michael Bachelor. "I just need a normal night," Mortimer admits over the phone, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I've been going through Bella's computer, all of her books, anything that might have a hint of what she was working on — WHO she was working for! She has no saved paystubs! Per the bank, the payments are coming from a car wash outside Sunset Valley, which doesn’t appear to exist! I can’t think about it anymore. Let’s go to The Blue Velvet." Michael, ever the supportive brother-in-law, agrees, and Mortimer calls their sitter to come over to watch the twins.

They arrive at The Blue Velvet and head downstairs, where the atmosphere is a mix of muted chatter and the clinking of glasses. The familiar surroundings bring a brief sense of comfort, and Michael takes the lead, heading over to greet his own sister-in-law, Nina Caliente.

As Michael catches up with Nina, Mortimer makes his way to the bar. However, his brief moment of respite is quickly shattered when a paparazzi approaches, camera in hand. The flash of the camera is blinding, and the barrage of questions is relentless.

"Mr. Goth, can you comment on your wife’s disappearance? How does it feel to be out having a good time while she’s still missing? Some might say you’re not as broken up about it as you claim!"

Mortimer’s patience snaps. His eyes flash with anger as he yells at the paparazzi to leave, his voice echoing across the bar. The confrontation draws the attention of several patrons, including Nina, who looks on with an intrigued expression. The paparazzi, unfazed by Mortimer’s outburst, takes a few more shots before finally retreating, leaving Mortimer fuming.

Trying to shake off the encounter, Mortimer orders a drink, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the glass. The tension lingers, even as he joins Michael at a nearby table. They talk quietly, trying to steer the conversation away from Bella, but it’s clear that her absence weighs heavily on both of them.

When Michael excuses himself to the bathroom, Mortimer is left alone at the table. He looks up to find Nina standing nearby, her gaze fixed on him. She smiles, and despite himself, Mortimer offers a small, weary smile in return.

Nina approaches, her movements calculated, as if she’s sizing him up. They exchange pleasantries, but there’s an undercurrent to their conversation that Mortimer can’t quite place. She leans in closer, her voice soft but carrying an edge that makes him slightly uneasy.

"So, Mortimer," Nina says, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. "If you ever need someone to talk to… I’m just a phone call away." She reaches for his phone, deftly entering her number and Mortimer hears her own phone vibrate before sliding it back to him. Mortimer watches her, unsure of her motives, but too drained to protest. He simply nods, his thoughts a tangled mess as he tries to make sense of the evening.

As Nina walks away, Mortimer sits back, staring at his phone. There’s something about the encounter that doesn’t sit right with him, but he’s too tired to dwell on it. Instead, he finishes his drink, hoping the night will pass quickly and the weight on his shoulders will ease, if only for a moment.

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[zahri-melitor]

Also on Kate Kane's age: the thing about sliding time and her age; as we are now in 2024 and Kate could only have fallen foul of DADT at late as 2011, we are now in a position where one of the following scenarios is history:-

Kate was in class of 2011/2012 and was kicked out of the military RIGHT before the ending of DADT (which ended 20 September 2011). I can just squeeze her into Class of 2012 in that she left right after Ring Weekend, that appears to occur in late August, and so there's a whole month to fit the discharge into before the DADT change (though that would be very very fast movement on everyone's part, 2011 graduating year is more likely). After this Kate spent anywhere up to about 8 years as a socialite before ending up in the fight where she became Batwoman, Jacob sent her off for secret training, and she's been an active vigilante for about 4 years now.

Kate was in the class of 2011 and kicked out of the military under DADT, she had the lost year of wandering, she then came back and had a year of socialite time, became Batwoman, ran around as a vigilante for a year, Jacob found out and sent her off to secretly train for like...5 years...before she became an active vigilante anyone knew about for about 4 years.

Kate was not discharged under DADT and actually served for a few years before some new invention as to why she quit (this is the oncoming needed scenario), then one year socialite, one year Batwoman secretly, a year or two of secret training, then public Batwoman.

The problem with scenario 1 is that the longer the socialite time stretches for Kate between leaving the military at 21 and becoming Batwoman, the more her skills atrophy and it becomes less realistic that she has a special training background she can actively draw from for her work that stands her out among the group.

The problem with scenario 2 is the longer Kate's off on secret training the more you have to ask what was she doing during that time, and why did it take so long?

The problem with scenario 3 is, of course, that the sliding timescale essentially eventually turfs the entire DADT and homophobia backstory to all of Kate's motivations.

[lean-mean-demon-genevieve]

Who’s this Anson character? I took a step back from tumblr and now I feel like I need a book to figure out what I missed lol.

With him yet again leeching off of appearing with Jared this weekend, now seems as good a time as any to circle back to this ask because I too have been perplexed by Jared’s supposed friendship with this guy for some time. And as per usual, I brought receipts.

Anson Gordon seems to first be publicly linked to the Pads in Sandy Molinare’s Instagram in 2016. This looks like he has been a part of the wealthy, and fairly conservative circle that both the Pads and the Ackles use to run with at that time.

He clout-chased a few times in 2018 in his IG story and wanted to let the world know he has famous friends, with Jared and Danneel (in the background of a video) making appearances. He then started more regularly sharing pics of himself attending UFC fights with Jared in January 2020. And since then, his presence has only grown to include other Austin goings-on, more testosterone fueled events, some weapons safety and/or stuntman gig on Walker that included some brief screen time, meeting up with the Pads on their 2021 Italy trip, Jared’s car accident last year in which he and his son were passengers, and a spot on the Pads Family Feud team earlier this year. He is seen, and confused for Jensen somehow in the comments, in this IG post of Jared’s, sliding down a slide like best buds. He is regularly seen showcasing himself on socials interacting with Pads errand boy, Charlie Capen (you won’t convince me he didn’t record that slide video), as well as Clif and various Walker actors.

I will be 100% transparent here about my political leanings that run deeper than fandom. I don’t like this guy because I feel like he is the very conservative, aging frat boy of my nightmares. I don’t care that he’s rubbed elbows with other rich people at the Out Youth Gala, he is a salesman at the end of the day. I feel like he and I would strongly disagree on a lot of important (to me) issues/values, and the transference I feel when I look at him is strong. (That means he reminds me of people I know in real life.) He appears quite motivated to flex next to Jared at any opportunity and draw attention to himself. (Jared doesn’t showcase him nearly as often. The slide post kinda surprised me. Again, who’s a good boy? Charlie is!)

To me, Anson comes off as caustic, shallow, arrogant, and chauvinistic. Here’s the story of how I got bored and nosy during the pandemic and came to these opinions:

This post from February 2021 was deleted months later as Anson posted more and more with Jared and Walker actors and gained followers/eyes on him. Now why in early 2021, would some folks from Texas even joke about secession?? The most obvious answer: the growing uproar over covid, mask mandates, vaccines, general pandemic limitations on their gentrifier (sorry/not sorry, wealthy Austinites) rich-kid fun. Look out y’all this privileged white male is “startin trouble.” Somebody ask this guy where he was on January 6th.

Exhibit B is less damning, but it irritates me so imma include it:

A smug face and pose like this with a firearm captioned “virtue signaling” sure feels like a jab at the sNoWfLaKeS, given the rest of the context. No, shooting guns isn’t a crime, and in fact it’s this guys livelihood, but why add the snark if you’re not an ass and hoping to instigate? It feels like a safe bet that gun laws were also up there on the list of reasons for Texas secession dreams.

Exhibit C, posted to his story in August ‘21 just prior to his IG account going private for a few months and right about the same time the Pads themselves got Covid:

I would love to know how Jared responded to being tagged in this mess. No I’m not suggesting he gave the Pads Covid, but I do think someone from the Pads or Walker team told ole boy to cool it with the anti-mask rhetoric so as not to reflect negatively on Jared, hence the private account. However you may feel about mask mandates at this point, remember that this was late summer/fall of 2021. Covid was obviously still rampant as the Pads and Anson himself would soon learn after returning home from Italy. How dare the Uber peasant ask that he respect his safety as he provides a service. Fuck that guy, right?!

It was after this in November 2021 that Anson first seemed to try to redeem himself by attending the Out Youth Gala with the Pads and also with his favorite accessory, his wife, in tow. What I won’t include here are the gross IG story video highlights from a different event that this tool has conveniently saved in which he documents his seemingly intoxicated wife’s side-boob for an uncomfortable amount of time. Guys can dig their wife’s bodies, and even do so on their own social media, but you gotta trust me that the ick factor is palpable. Bodily autonomy being what it is, maybe she’s ok with the multiple posts of this type, and I can respect that…and he’s shared quite a few.

But for me the final straw was when, not 24 hours after the horrific Robb Elementary school shooting in Uvalde, Texas on 5/24/22, Anson’s IG story was plugging his firearm silencer business and hyping the launch of new products at the NRA convention that coming weekend in Houston.

If you followed the link early on when I called him a salesman, you may have already figured out that this man has made a sizable fortune off of engineering top of the line silencers for assault rifles. The IG account tells me that they sell for about $700-$750 each. None of this is a crime, but he’s not exactly reading the room in this moment. In comparison, Gen was sharing post after post to her IG story during this time about the need for reform around gun laws and sympathy for the victims. But this guy knew a big convention was approaching and he needed to capitalize. Then he went golfing.

Are you still with me?

So this is why I cringe whenever I see this Wish version of Jensen snuggling up to Jared.

He’s not deserving of the positive assumptions that some fans/Jared stans have made about him based solely on his proximity to Jared. And let’s be honest, with the great big fandom divide these days, a lot of Jared fans are just all too eager to root for anyone that isn’t Jensen. But, in my opinion, you don’t get to show up at an LGBTQ fundraiser claiming to be an ally when you have no doubt voted to protect your own interests (guns, money) and cast ballots for people who also support drag bans and an end to gender affirming care. It doesn’t work like that, especially not in Texas. He’s invested in Texas staying red, and if you recall or scroll up, there was a time when it wasn’t red enough for him. He’s certainly not voting for LGBTQ+ human rights, but he will write them a check for damage control in the aftermath. What a guy.

To clarify, this is NOT an anti-Jared post, although some may see it as such. There’s no suggested call-to-action for the fandom coming from me. Jared is not Anson’s keeper. But at the same time, to an extent, we are who we associate with and with whom we spend precious time. And Jared spends a fair amount of public time with this clown and allows Anson to attach himself to him and profit off of him. Leeching onto Jared is the best thing this guy did to get his face and his veneers seen by a larger audience. So Jared, I love ya, but it’s not a good look. This guy had no qualms showing people who he was when fewer people were looking, but deleting posts doesn’t delete screenshots. And I’ve got those, as you can see.

[madame-mango]

okay but what if rarity was far-sighted but refused to get glasses because she was worried about whether or not theyd look good on her or if they’d match her outfits at all (and because she felt like they would get in the way of her work, whether it be them bring too tight, too loose, sliding down, breaking, etc.)

because of this she also never told the rest of thr mane six as she didnt want them to worry about it or have her get some, but they get suspicious eventually when they notice her difficulty in seeing things clearly even though they’re directly in front of her

i like to think they get her to (try to) read a book for them or something OR somehow twi tricks her into an examination, probably saying its for research or a check-up and that she’s doing this to everyone

either way they find out about her far-sightedness and she’s all pouty about it saying she doesn’t need more than the red ones she already has (which are just some cheap ones she bought a while back, they used to help somewhat but her eyes have only gotten worse so they do little to nothing for her now)

that is until twi tells her she can get any type or colour of glasses she wants and shes so excited, immediately looking around for the perfect pair but she cant choose so she just ends up getting several (probably one of each colour so she can always match her outfits (shes excessive, but shes happy and can see))

ALSO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN DRAWING MUCH LATELY:( i havent really had the motivation to do so other than a few sketches here and there unfortunately</3

[somediyprojects]

DIY Latch Hook Rug

Project by Jessica Marquez:

Latch hooking is something I did when I was young, and just thinking about making this project filled me with nostalgia — joyful, creative play with zero pressure. One thing that I forgot was just how long a project like this can take. Give yourself at least a few weeks to make this, but don’t be discouraged by the time commitment. It’s an incredibly satisfying project to complete. With quick craft projects, you rarely develop the rhythm that comes from a longer craft process, like latch hooking, knitting, or embroidery. It’s physical and meditative. I’ve always loved the process of making as much as — and sometimes even more than — the finished piece itself. Plus, it’s the perfect time of year to get cozy while making a warm rug and binge-watching your favorite shows. (I highly recommend the shows I devoured while making this: Chef’s Table and Master of None). My motivation for this rug was the thought of waking up on a cold morning and having the first thing I touch be a warm, fluffy handmade rug under my feet.

This project is inspired by one of my favorite designers, Beci Orpin, who shared a bold and colorful hook rug project in her book Make & Do. Here I created a unique geometric pattern, reminiscent of mud cloth, with pops of color. I can totally see this looking great as a monochromatic rug, too. I hope you give this a try — I know you’ll enjoy the process and the finished, cozy rug you’ll make. —Jessica

Materials

Printed pattern 20 x 25” piece of latch hook rug canvas Sharpie (Stained Sharpies work well) Tape Cardboard pieces (2) 2 ¼” x 8, (1) 2 x 8” Rubberbands Scissors 2 Skeins of yarn (268 yds each, medium “4” weight) in your main color 1 Skein of blue and white or your preferred colors Latch hook Iron-on Rug Binding

Instructions

1. Print the pattern out using Adobe and select “tile” in the print window. Tape the pattern together. The final size is 15 x 20”. You can also draw out your own pattern using graph paper to map out your design.

2.  Transfer your pattern. Iron the latch hook canvas flat to make it easier to work with, Layer the pattern under the latch hook canvas, lining it up with the grid. Tape in place and trace over the pattern with a sharpie.

3.  Cut your threads. Sandwich the narrowest cardboard piece in between the two wider pieces. Wrap the yarn around the cardboard with consistent tension. You don’t need to wrap tightly. You can slide down and gather the wrapped yarn to fit more onto the cardboard. Once it’s full, cut the tail end, secure the threads with rubber bands and then cut up the length of the cardboard piece on each side. There should be enough space on each side for your scissors to cut between the layers of cardboard. Aim for consistent yarn lengths, about 2 1/4″ long.

4.  Time to latch hook. Color by color, latch hook the rug working side to side, bottom to the middle and then flipping over. One canvas square is one knot or loop of thread(s). Follow the pattern by placing the latch on the top portion of the canvas square. Insert the latch hook into and out of a square, leaving the top of the square under the open latch hook. Slide two pieces of yarn around the latch hook. Pinch the ends of the thread making sure both sides are even. Cross the yarn over into the open latch and pull the hook down through the canvas. Pull the yarn to tighten the loop.

NOTE: When I began the rug, I started out only using one piece of thread per loop, but felt that it wasn’t thick enough for a rug. I decided to double the threads. Different yarn weights might require more or less threads. Different types of yarn will also create different textures.

5.  Bind the edges. First, flip over the canvas to see if you’ve missed any squares and fill them in as needed. Trim the edges to about 1 to 11/2” around. Press the edges of the canvas down. Measure out the length of the binding for each side and cut. Place the waxy side of the binding down halfway over  the canvas edge and press firmly with an iron on the wool setting for about 10 seconds. Lastly, give it a haircut. Trim down any pieces of yarn that are sticking out for an even surface.

Tip: You can add a no-slip backing, which also protects the threads from fraying.