#Time to be broke for another 12 fucking patches

[godisasimp]

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 12

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

The sky was red and Eddie was terrified.

He was doing his best on defense – his connection to the bats through Vecna allowed him to influence them – but there were just too many. If he had more time to practice he probably could have kept them back but as it was he was barely keeping up with the ones making it through their lines. He could fully influence only one at a time, so he had to wait until one got close to his friends before he could order it to fuck off. Which meant that everyone was suffering from various bites and tail marks but at least no one had been dragged away and strangled. It also meant he had to constantly whip his head around to keep his eyes on everyone. Nancy, Hopper, Joyce, and Johnathan were doing a good job shooting them down but he knew their ammunition could only last so long.

In the middle of it all, a child and a monster locked eyes, a battle raging between them that no one else could see. The strain of it was clear on their faces. Vecna – inhuman and snarling. Eleven – blood dripping from her nose and tiring. She was losing. Her hands shook as she held them out in front her, and a harsh gasp escaped her clenched teeth as she fell to one knee. Vecna approached her slowly, a grin stretching across his evil face. He thought it was over, he thought he had won.

Eddie turned, as if in slow motion, to see Steve suddenly break through the swarm and approach Vecna from behind. Quiet as a ninja. He swung that god damned nail bat at him like it was Excalibur, nothing but pure determination on his face. He must have known it wasn’t going to kill him, probably wouldn’t even hurt him but that wasn’t his goal. Vecna turned to strike at him, and it gave Eleven the opening she needed to get back on her feet.

Steve went flying and Eleven screamed with more rage than Eddie had ever heard from another person. Her eyes went black and the ground caved in around her feet. In that moment of distraction, with Vecna still turned away from her, she put everything she had left into an attack…and Vecna stumbled as Steve hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Eleven threw her arms out wide and then brought her hands together in a resounding clap that echoed out around her. Everyone fell to their knees as the world went still and silent. Her eyes were still black when she opened them and walked to where Vecna lay on the ground. Tilting his head up to her, he said something that Eddie couldn’t hear. Eleven calmly pointed her finger at his forehead and Eddie watched in awe as he disintegrated before his eyes. Like a wave expanding around her, bats and Demogorgons fell to the ground before they disintegrated too.

Eddie clutched at his chest, a new fear gripping him that with Vecna gone his own tether to life would be cut. But the wave continued around him and he still breathed. Sunlight broke through the clouds, beaming down in patches as the red glow started to dissipate.

“Steve!” Dustin screamed and ran to where he was laying on the ground. He skidded to a stop, and Eddie could see the way his fingers shook as he gently turned Steve over. His chest was rising and falling, but the sound coming out of his throat was labored and wet. Eddie didn’t know much, but he knew that was a bad sound. Dustin pulled Steve’s head into his lap before his fingers moved over his chest, unsure.

“How do I look, Henderson?” Steve asked through the blood filling his mouth.

“You’re gunna be fine,” Dustin lied. Just like he had lied to Eddie. “But you have to get up, okay?”

“Kay,” Steve replied softly.

Dustin pushed his arm under his shoulders and tried to lift him. “Come on!”

Steve tried to help him but his strength gave out and he cried out in pain. Dustin laid him back down, hands fluttering uselessly over his ruined chest.

“Stop, please stop,” Steve said through gasping breaths.

Dustin looked down, tears in his eyes. Steve smiled up at him brightly.

“She got him, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, Steve. She got him.”

“Good… It’s alright, Dustin,” Steve choked out. “It’s alright. I love you...”

“I love you, too.”

Steve closed his eyes, tears slipping out between his lashes and his breathing grew even more labored… and then…

…it stopped.

“Steve?”

“Steve?”

“Steve!” Dustin screamed.

The sky was blue and the sun was warm and Steve Harrington was dead.

Eddie woke with the sound of Dustin’s scream still echoing in his ears. He hadn’t dreamed of that night in a long time. He sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before he got out of bed. Wayne was already asleep for the day, so he was quiet as he moved through the trailer.

He blinked wearily at the coffee pot, surprised to see a fresh batch steaming on the counter. Wayne must have made it for him before he went to sleep. Good man. He poured himself a cup and took a sip as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

He hated mornings.

It was going to be a long day. It was boy’s night tonight which meant his home was going to be invaded by his little sheep.

And Steve.

Probably…

They were definitely going to try and get him to come. He was picking them all up at the Hopper-Byers’ after dinner. He figured there was a good chance of Steve agreeing. He had seemed better lately, more willing to try social encounters anyway.

Eddie thought about the look on his face at the junkyard when he had stopped laughing and started crying. Lost. Haunted. Grief so thick Eddie could feel it every time he was around him. He couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. Couldn’t imagine trying to live with the weight of it all. He was a stronger person than Eddie, that was for sure.

Steve Harrington.

Everything felt different with him back.

…but that wasn’t quite right, was it? Because he wasn’t back. The Steve that Eddie had known was still dead. Gone. Eddie had watched him die. This Steve was someone else, a stranger with a familiar face. He had fucked up with Steve in the hospital, he realized now. But he had been protecting Dustin, protecting them all – like his Steve would have wanted. A familiar face couldn’t be trusted just because it was familiar. Eddie absentmindedly fiddled with his necklace. He was glad he had apologized, but he didn’t regret his guardedness.

He wanted to ask Steve more about their history – or Steve’s and Eds’ history. But every goddamn time he was with Steve someone asked a stupid fucking question that made the man tense and freeze up or lash out with justified anger so Eddie just kept stewing in his curiosity. 

Steve was –

He didn’t know what Steve was.

Eddie sighed, set his mug down and went to change into his overalls. Those engines weren’t going to fix themselves.

---

Eddie was exhausted when he got home from work. The summer days were hot and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. He stripped out of his clothes and turned the water on in the shower, leaving it on the cold side. Hopping in, he breathed a sigh of relief as the water hit his overheated skin. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, enjoying the silence and feel of the water.

He didn’t hate the work, sometimes he actually enjoyed himself when something interesting came in. Most days sucked though. Endless oil changes and tire rotations and mindless work that didn’t challenge him. Better than working at the factory with Wayne, which had been his other option after graduating.

Sometimes, he still dreamed of leaving. Going to New York or Chicago. A big city with big ideas where someone like him didn’t have to hide as much.

Though, Hawkins wasn’t as bad as it used to be…

Now that he was out of high school his life felt like his own. He also had a much larger family than he ever could have expected to have. He and Wayne had open dinner invitations to so many houses they never had to cook again if they didn’t want to. Not that they took them up on it too often.

He finished washing, turned the water off and shook his hair out like a dog before he exited the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went into his bedroom to get dressed. After donning his usual black attire, he grabbed his book off the shelf and threw himself down on his bed. He had a little time to himself before he had to go pick up the kids. Opening the book to where he had left off, Eddie read:

“If wishes were fishes we’d all cast nets,” he murmured. It was his mother’s expression and he always used it when he felt the blackness of tomorrow on him. Then he thought what an odd expression that was to be taking to a planet that had never known seas or fishes…

When the room started to get dark from the setting sun, Eddie put his book away and grabbed his keys. Wayne was in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee when he walked out.

“Mornin,” Wayne said.

“Evenin,’ Eddie said back.  

Wayne grunted at their overused joke.

“I’ll be outta here in a bit so you can do your ‘boy’s night,’ thing.”

“Breakfast with Frank?”

Wayne grunted again. He didn’t like mornings any more than Eddie did. Didn’t matter that his morning’s started at 7:00pm instead of 7:00am.

“See ya later, Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne waved him off and Eddie left. He hopped into his van, rolled down the windows and turned up the stereo up until he couldn’t hear himself think.

When he turned the corner onto the Hopper-Byers’ street, he saw all the boys waiting on the lawn. Steve in the middle of them all.

He was laughing.

Eddie pulled up to the curb and slowly came to a stop. The boys rushed the van, piling into the back and leaving the front seat for Steve. It wasn’t the first time they had done it, and Eddie was surprised at how soft the little brats were with him, how considerate.

“Hey Eddie,” Steve said as he jumped in. He looked good. His skin wasn’t so pale and he was starting to put on weight. Looking more every day like the Steve Eddie had known and not the gaunt skeletal man they had pulled out of an apocalyptic nightmare.

“Steve.” Eddie nodded to him. Steve smiled but winced a little and blinked a few times quickly. Crap. He reached for the radio dial and turned it down to a more normal level. The kids were screaming at each other in the back and Eddie side-eyed Steve to see how he was doing with the noise. He wasn’t squinting anymore so it must have been a bit better.

“How was work?” he asked.

Eddie told him about his day as they made their way to the trailer park. When he pulled up, the kids rushed out of the backseat before he had even put the van in park. They ran to the door, pushing and shoving and Eddie laughed as Lucas made it through the door first. Lucas usually won. Surprisingly, Will also got to the chair first a lot when he tried for it. Lucas was stronger but Will was scrappy.

Steve asked about the ritual and Eddie explained Wayne’s chair as they made their way inside.

---

When the first movie was over, they took a little break to get more snacks and use the bathroom before starting the next one. The kids were moving around the trailer but him and Steve were sitting on the couch.

“What was your Eddie like anyway? Was he like me?” Eddie couldn’t help but finally ask. He shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth, embarrassed. He hoped that it wouldn’t make Steve uncomfortable or angry…

Eddie’s eyes widened as a grin spread across Steve’s face instead.

“Eds was great, really friendly and popular – more popular than I was! Captain of the baseball team, too.”

What.

The.

Fuck?

There was no universe where Eddie Munson would be captain of the goddamn baseball team. But Steve just sat there looking at him with that smile on his face and Eddie couldn’t help but think it was the horrifying truth.

“Were you not the captain of the baseball team?” he asked with a confused tilt to his head.

It made sense in some ways why Steve and Eds would be friends though, if he had been so different from Eddie.

“No!” Dustin screamed in indignation on his behalf and Steve burst into laughter.

“Got you!” the asshole said and wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes.

“What the hell, Steve?” Lucas yelled.

Steve just kept laughing maniacally. It was the happiest Eddie had ever seen him. And if it had to come at Eddie’s expense? Well, that was fine with him. Steve had a beautiful laugh, full and warm.

“Good one, Steve,” Eddie said and smiled at him just as wide. It was good to see him acting more like himself… or more like Steve?

Shit.

Multiverses were confusing.  

“I knew Eds a lot longer than I’ve known you but from what I’ve seen so far, you two are pretty similar.” Steve paused and speared Eddie with the intensity of his gaze. “Huge nerds with a rough exterior but damn big hearts.”

Eddie felt a blush rising to his cheeks at the heartfelt words so he pulled his hair in front of his face to hide it.

Steve got up and went to the bathroom. Dustin was staring at his back as he walked away, a smile hovering on his lips.

“Captain of the baseball team, my ass,” Eddie said to Dustin who laughed loudly.

“He seems better, doesn’t he?” Dustin asked and looked at Eddie, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Eddie wasn’t so sure about that. He thought Steve might always be one bad question or one bad day away from a complete breakdown. He knew he would be if their positions were reversed. But the joking and laughter was new and could be a sign that Steve was healing.

He nodded. “Yeah, he seems to be better.”

“I wish there was more we could do.”

“You’re doing fine,” Eddie said to him and then turned to the rest of the boys. “You’re all doing fine. Keep talking to him, inviting him to things. Don’t push if he says no. Maybe try not to yell so much in the van, yeah?”

They stared at him in confusion and he sighed. For smart kids they were pretty dumb sometimes. Eddie tapped his head and said, “he’s been hit in the head as many times as our Steve, so he probably gets the same migraines. I’ve noticed him wincing at loud noises.”

“Shit,” Lucas said, eyes wide. “I totally forgot about that.”

“Me too,” Dustin said, looking crestfallen.

Steve had died more than a year ago now. It made sense that they would start to forget things about him. The first time Steve got in his van, Eddie saw the tightening around his eyes and it immediately reminded him of their Steve – of the pain in his eyes that he tried to hide from everyone. He had eventually told them all about the migraines he got and the kids had got better at not screaming in enclosed places. But over time, they had stopped because there hadn’t been a need to be quiet anymore.

Will walked over and sat down beside Eddie and said, “he never tells us how he’s really feeling. When we ask, he always says ‘better,’ with a look on his face that makes us think he’s lying. Why won’t he talk to us?”

Eddie took a moment to think about what to say. After Vecna he had hated the question, ‘how are you?’ and he imagined Steve did too.

“It might not be a lie, Byers,” he said. “It’s just not the whole truth. His feelings are probably complicated and he doesn’t know how to talk about them. I didn’t know how to talk about mine after Vecna. Like I said, just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s going to take time.” 

Will nodded. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Dustin and Lucas came over and started settling down on the floor when Steve walked back into the room. He took the spot on the other side of Will. When everyone was ready, Eddie jumped up to change the tape. His foot caught on the edge of the carpet and he fell to the side, he grabbed onto the table trying to catch himself but ended up knocking the popcorn off and he still fell hard into the edge.  

“Jesus, rolled a ‘nat’ one on that dexterity check, Eddie,” Steve said.

Eddie’s eyes widened at the joke and he turned to look at Steve. The room was quiet as they all seemed to absorb what he said.

“What did you just say?” Dustin asked.

“It was a D&D joke,” Steve replied. “You do play D&D right?”

“Do we play D&D?” Dustin spluttered. “Of course we do! Do you!?”

“With Eds as a boyfriend and all of you gremlins as my friends you think I could get away with not playing? Not a chance.”

Eddie froze at the words, stunned. Steve said them so easily: With Eds as a boyfriend. They echoed in his ears. He still couldn’t quite believe he had heard them. The boys were freaking out but their voices faded into the background as Eddie’s mind spun.

Eds had been Steve’s boyfriend.  

Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington had been together in another universe.

He thought back to the hospital when he had first met Steve, when he called him Eds. There was an emotion in his eyes that Eddie hadn’t been able to name at the time. A desolation that he hadn’t understood…

“I play a half-orc half human barbarian named Chuggington, but his friends call him Chug.” A pause and then, “and yeah, me and Eds were dating.”

Eddie hadn’t heard the question, but Steve’s answer cut through the haze. Only a brief hesitation and he once again said words that would terrify Eddie to speak. Me and Eds were dating. He said it so casually – the sky is blue and the grass is green and me and Eds were dating.

And of course, he named his character fucking Chugginton. Chuggington! Classic Steve –

…But it wasn’t, was it? Eddie couldn’t reconcile it. A Steve who played D&D and dated boys wasn’t the Steve he had known. But then he went and named his character Chuggington? Well, that just screamed Steve.

And the thought wormed its way in before he could stop it – that if, just maybe, he had met Steve a little earlier – that it could have been them?

Nope.

He needed to leave. Go outside and collect himself. He stood up, feeling everyone looking at him. He didn’t say anything, just slipped outside. He could finally place the emotion in Steve’s eyes that day at the hospital…

Heartbreak.

Steve had looked at him like his goddamn heart was breaking.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the steps of his trailer. Reaching into his pocket he took out his cigarettes and lighter, his hand only shaking a little. The wind picked up suddenly and it took him a few tries to get the flame to catch on his cigarette. He took a puff and blew the smoke out into the air.

The door opened and closed behind him and Steve took a seat at his side. Because that was something they did now; follow each other onto porch steps to have deep conversations.

“You didn’t tell them?” he asked.

“I didn’t know,” Eddie replied.

Steve reached into the neckline of his shirt and pulled out the twin to the necklace sitting around his own neck. “This didn’t give it away?”

It dangled from Steve’s fingers and Eddie stared at it. Steve knew the story behind it. Eddie had lied when he said it wasn’t the same. It represented the first time Eddie had a family and a home. He should have put it together. Eds had given it to Steve, which meant Steve had been his family. It just hadn’t crossed his mind that they could have been dating. Close friends, he thought, was the only possibility.

“I knew he cared about you, but not how much. I guess I couldn’t wrap my head around a universe where Steve Harrington was with Eddie Munson.”

It was the truth and spoke to an insecurity that had haunted Eddie since high school. Being with someone like Steve wasn’t even a fantasy he had allowed himself. Perfect, popular, golden boy Steve dating outcast, satanist, Eddie the Freak? Not possible.

“There was at least one,” Steve said and smiled at him, his gaze soft. “Sorry if I made things weird.”

Eddie couldn’t fight back his sigh. “Things have been weird for a long time, Steve.”

Understatement of the goddamn century. Talking to a multiverse traveling Steve Harrington who had been dating him was the tip of the iceberg. Eddie had come back from the dead possessed by an evil overlord so his perspective might be a little skewed, though. Steve looked up at the sky and Eddie looked out at the trailer park, unsure where to go from here. He took another puff of his cigarette before holding it out to Steve. He didn’t notice, still looking up so Eddie cleared his throat. Steve looked down at the cigarette for a moment, a strange look on his face, before taking it.

Damn it, he had to ask.

“So…you’re? –” he couldn’t finish the question. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Bisexual,” Steve answered easily as he passed the cigarette back.

“Cool cool,” Eddie said and looked away to take a drag. Bisexual…. Made sense. It would be the perfect moment to tell Steve that he was queer too, that they had that in common. But the words got stuck in his throat. Wayne was the only person who knew. The thought of saying the words to Steve made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. He wasn’t ready.

The moment passed and they traded the cigarette back and forth until there was nothing left of it.

When he reached down to pick up the ash tray on the bottom step he noticed Steve’s socks – and the handle of the steak knife that was sticking out of it.

“Why is there a steak knife in your sock?”

---

Eddie had drifted off during the second movie. The heat really sapped his energy in the summer and he hadn’t slept well the night before. A scream jerked him into wakefulness and he turned to look around. Dustin had stolen Wayne’s chair at some point and Mike and Lucas were lying on the floor. The couch beside him was empty. Will and Steve were in the kitchen, talking in low tones with their heads close together.

He couldn’t make out what they were talking about but Will looked like he was a second away from crying. Eddie was about to get up and see what was going on when Steve suddenly pulled Will into his arms. He thought his lips were saying, “it’s going to be okay,” but he couldn’t be sure.

Eddie felt his heart soften at the sight. He had noticed the way Will was around Mike and could guess what had prompted the conversation. It was good that he was talking to Steve. The other boys were all engrossed in the movie and missed the tears and hug. A good thing, Eddie thought, they would probably tease and make jokes about it. He turned back to the movie to give them a little more privacy.

It took Will and Steve a minute to gather themselves but they eventually came back over and settled on the couch.

“What’d we miss?” Steve asked quietly.

Dustin hushed him harshly.

Steve just smiled and rolled his eyes before looking over at Eddie.

“The doctors sedated her after she had an episode,” Eddie whispered. “They still don’t know what’s wrong.”

“She really messed up her back doing that stunt,” Dustin said.

“Hey, you can’t shush me and then bring up your little facts.”

“My facts enhance the movie watching experience! You were interrupting for no good reason.”

“Shh!” Lucas said nudging Dustin’s shoulder.

Eddie chuckled under his breath.

He managed to stay awake for the rest of the movie. When the credits rolled, he yawned and stood up, stretching out his tired muscles.

“I’m going to bed,” he said to the room. “You can watch another movie if you want but pull out the couch and make the bed now in case you fall asleep.”

He turned to Steve. “You good to sleep with me?” he asked and then grimaced. Why did he have to word it like that!?

Steve blinked a little in surprise. “Yeah, I’m good with that.”

“Coming now or staying up for another one?”

“Now, it was hard enough staying awake through the last one.”

Eddie left the boys to manage the pull-out couch and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and relieve himself. Steve went in after him, and Eddie headed into the living room to see how the boys were making out. The four of them were piled into the bed, Wayne’s chair abandoned. The third and final movie played on the television.

“Night,” Eddie said and turned back to his room, their chorused ‘good nights’ following him.

Steve was already tucked into his bed, against the wall, when Eddie went in. He was sitting up, his bare chest showing off his healing scars. He had filled out a little more since the lake, his ribs no longer sticking out in such stark definition but he still had a long way to go. He had Eddie’s book in his hands and was reading the back cover.

“I don’t think it’s something you’d like,” Eddie said.

Steve looked up and shrugged. “It might be. I’ve been reading a lot of fantasy lately. Dustin leant me a bunch of books.”

Eddie hummed. “I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”

Steve nodded and handed him the book. Eddie put it on the table before flicking off the light and turning on the fan. He crawled into bed. He was hyper-aware of Steve beside him. The solid warmth of his presence. He had been tired out in the other room, but adrenaline was coursing through him now. Questions he wanted to ask kept running through his head.

“I can hear you thinking,” Steve whispered.

“No, you can’t.”

A little chuckle from the darkness.

“I guess I just don’t understand you.”

“What do you mean?”

“How much you’re like the Steve that I knew and how much you’re different from him.”

“Oh, that! Welcome to my constant dilemma with all of you.”

“Fucking multiverses, right?”

“I had another Eleven come and see me. Skinny little thing with a big scar on her face, popped out of a portal right in front of me!”

“No way!” Eddie exclaimed. “What did she want? Did she try to steal you for her universe?”

Steve laughed. “No, she didn’t try and steal me,” he said and the paused. “She just wanted to know I was alright. She was happy to find me, must have been looking just as long as the Eleven here had been.”

“Wow…” Eddie said and then trailed off. “Do you think more will come?”

A deep breath and release of air from Steve.

“Yeah…I think so,” he replied.   

Eddie’s heart ached. They loved Steve so much. Eleven said she had visited thousands of different universes looking for him, had absolutely refused to give up. Which meant there were thousands of Eleven’s out there looking – another constant alongside Steve sacrificing himself.

Steve Harrington died.

And Eleven wouldn’t stop looking for him.

Eddie was grateful that he seemed to be adjusting, he didn’t know what would have happened if he kept insisting they take him back. Steve was stricken with grief, sad and angry most of the time but he was slowly starting to open up to them. Was slowly starting to tell them about himself and Eddie found that he was grateful for the chance to know him.

Part 13

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @queenie-ofthe-void @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @newtstabber @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues

-Sorry for the delay on this chapter! Life got a bit hectic. -I'm having a bit of a dilemma on some plot point I might want to include and I'm wondering if anyone out there would be cool with me bouncing ideas off them? You would have to be okay with me spoiling bits of the story but if you are at all interested shoot me a pm! -Happy Holidays and thanks for reading!

[spaceratprodigy]

OKAY YEAA i'm sending more. 11, 12, 22, 29 :^) remind me not to send any asks at 5:30 am or something ever again i don't think my brain functioned properly at that moment BBFBGNBFBFB

@roseeway — [ OTP/SHIP ASKS ]

LIVE 👏 YOUR 👏 TRUTH 👏 The world needed to hear me talk about Max's weak pull-out game in Detective AU

–

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

Faith, in general, has a tendency to bottle everything up and push herself to put others first. She's not good at asking for help or letting herself be vulnerable in front of others. Not to mention the guilt she feels over being a nuisance to the people she cares about. She has an image she must maintain, she has to be The Captain, and The Captain needs to be able to hold it together.

Once they're getting closer, especially after her Death Wish Arc, Max is able to pick up on when she's starting to do worse. In the way she talks, the way she withdraws herself more than usual, the ways she isn't taking care of herself. He knows she doesn't always like to talk, but he will do things to ensure she knows she isn't alone in ways that won't completely overwhelm her.

Post-Scylla Max takes being open and honest with her much more seriously. Talking isn't as difficult for him, but when it's with her he begins finding enough comfort to let himself be seen, understood, loved, and taken care of proper.

.

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

Honestly? Not really. Most of the time they're rather in tune with each other much more than they ever expected. Their personalities and general attitudes make it rather easy for them to bounce off of each other. He's fascinated with her and respects her, and she values his insight and perspectives greatly.

The first time he ever raised his voice at her in frustration was when she gave him the journal and the walls came crumbling down for the first time. She did not react kindly to it and grabbed him by the collar and told him to never fucking talk to her like that ever again. And he didn't.

The second time he ever raised his voice was after he carried her back to the ship at the end of her Death Wish Arc. After Ellie looked her over and patched her up, Max remained by her bedside. When Faith woke up, she was very avoidant about what happened and tried to play it off nonchalantly, but it struck a nerve with Max. Before he could think about it he was being very stern, and Faith had to face the consequences head on how serious the entire ordeal was and how much it affected him and the crew. It was the first time she broke down and was truly vulnerable in front of Max. She didn't tell him everything, not yet, but she confided in him enough to change the course of their relationship forever.

The last time they got into a real argument was during their kerfuffle in Fallbrook. I think we all know what happens here, and I've talked enough about her making her heart known just for him to break it and push her away out of guilt, fear, and shame. Sparking the entire ordeal of when she runs away to Devil's Peak Station and finds unplanned solace in Hiram. The smoothing over doesn't necessarily happen until their Reciprocation and Reconciliation night on Scylla. But again.. I can gush about all that another day because y'all already know I never shut the hell up about their Fallbrook and Scylla Arcs.

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22. What reminds each of their partner?

Books, tossball, OSI trinkets, Free Range Fixer, mock apples, whiskey, pens and parchment, her locket, the color blue, those are of some of the things that remind Faith of Max.

Books, tools, trinkets, schematics, sweets, rum, the stars in the void, sprats, fairy lights, hot tea, the color red, accessories, she's a bit more mysterious, but Max picks up quick on the kinds of things she likes and commits those details to memory whether he means to or not.

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29. Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out?

Neither of them honestly. They're both the ones freaking out.

Despite how many elevators Faith has to use in Halcyon, she really doesn't like them all that much. She can get motion sick rather easily and elevators make her feel queasy and nervous, but it's not something she's going to make known.

I think Max would get pissed if someone was jumping in the elevator.

[meditating-dog-lover]

Fasting and inflammation

3 weeks into me fasting using the 16-8 method, I developed the worst skin flareup I have had in a while. This was back in mid January. For months since then I've been dealing with horrible inflammation, not knowing what the ultimate root cause was.

Besides my severe eczema, I've also been feeling fatigued and burnt out. I cannot go for long walks anymore, I lose energy when walking my dog, I have no energy at work and have forgotten about some assignments I had to do because I was so out of it. Again this started when I began strict fasting.

I love fasting and do not want to stop, but I've been so strict with it. I've been fasting 16-8 for 7 months straight thinking I was doing a great job with taking care of myself. But I fucked up my hormone balance which caused my fatigue and severe skin inflammation.

Extended fasting for women can mess up our hormones, and I know it played a role in my elevated cortisol and fasting blood glucose as well as my estrogen dominance and insulin resistance. I know my cortisol is high and I'm so fatigued as a result.

I set 2 health goals for myself this week - to find condiments that don't have processed oils (I found a really delicious spicy mayo that has avocado oil rather than the usual canola oil that a lot of condiments have) and to fast for 13-11 rather than 16-8. On the days where I go to therapy, my days are pretty long and I get hungry before my sessions. So I normally get these sweet potato puffs or white cheddar popcorn, but I want to look for something minimally processed. Again something with healthy oils.

In this case I'll break my fast at 9 rather than 12. I can have my morning coffee then. But for a snack I'm not sure what to have. Preferably something light. My mom suggested peanut butter and apples, but I don't like apples lol.

There are different fasting schedules and foods I should be eating throughout my cycle. Some weeks I need more calories and carbs and no fasting, others I need to eat less and less carbs/more fats. Women's hormones are cyclical unlike men. Men can get away with strict fasting and low carb, but women need a cyclical fasting pattern and more carbs to support hormone balance. It is more complicated.

I had a midnight snack last night and broke my fast this morning at 9:30. I felt so much better. I woke up and my skin was less inflamed. I didn't even apply steroids (neither to my face nor hands). The redness has subsided by a lot, but I still have some cuts and dryness on my hands. My hands are a bit itchy, but my face is better. The inflamed patches are healing and clearing up. I had a stubborn inflamed spot on my right hand that covered my thumb, thumb knuckle, and inner wrist. Even that has cleared. My hands look "normal" for the first time in several months and I'm so happy.

It would have never occurred to me that strict IF would have contributed to my severe inflammation, but I'm so happy I feel better now. I know an anti-inflammatory diet and good gut health help (I love my aloe juice). But even with that it felt like something was missing. It was my hormone imbalances caused by stress and strict fasting. Stress is another thing I'm going to work on with my therapist, a psychiatrist, and a psychologist for formal autism testing (my mom, sister and I believe I am on the spectrum). But that's a separate issue from my strict intermittent fasting, which is probably the most inflammatory thing I'm doing to myself.

I lost a lot of weight with IF (13 lbs of fat and fat alone, not total weight loss). But I'm sure there is an easier approach that isn't as strict that won't cause fatigue and inflammation.

I would love to continue with my current healthy habits - the anti-inflammatory lifestyle, aloe juice and general gut support, flexible IF, psychological support, and hormone support (I feel the cycling will help with this, but it's a process I will need to get used to). A future goal I can look into is exercise and liver support. I'm also going to the dentist with my mom, but that's much later.

I'll do more research on hormone balancing. But it's a tricky area as I'm not very educated on it. But I'll do enough research in order to support myself.

[notacoward]

As she scurried out, he snapped his head to James, who was spluttering and trying not to choke on his own blood. "Fuck," he swore, moving his wand in front of him. He began uttering many powerful healing spells, but even then, he wasn't sure it would be enough. The wound closed eventually, but he had lost a lot of blood. Looking around, he dashed to some of the cupboards where they kept their brewing supplies, and yanked out a blood-replenishing potion. Thank Merlin they were in the cellar. It was the one time he didn't have one on his person.

"Drink, Potter," Severus rasped as he forced the liquid down the man's throat. Severus summoned another one and the vial whizzed into his hand, and he forced that one down him too. Colour slowly began coming back to the beaten man's cheeks and Severus let out a deep breath. It looked like he'd live. "Listen to me," he said as he moved in front of him so their eyes could meet. James was out of it, but hopefully these words would stick. "You're probably in the clear now. Your body needs to adjust. Can you Apparate without your wand?"

"Nnnngh..." James groaned tiredly.

"Can you -- Apparate without your wand?" Severus asked again pointedly. The man was unable to answer, and Severus shook his head in annoyance. He untied him, then heaved him up, practically dragging him to the old Floo grate that had collected dust now. He just hoped it still bloody worked. All but tossing him into the fireplace, he grabbed a handful of powder and held it over the man. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place," Severus said clearly, and after throwing the powder down, James was gone in a flash of green flames.

He breathed deeply, then turned toward the stairs. Lily.

Taking them three at a time, he rushed upstairs. He practically broke the door down to her room, then forced it closed behind him. He was covered in blood, maybe even more than she was, and he felt disgusting. Mentally though... he didn't know how to feel.

"Take that Glamour off," Severus said quietly, staring at her. When she was back to the woman he knew, it took everything in him not to break down into tears once more. "Jesus, Lily!" he cried out, shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me," he hissed. He was angry, upset, frustrated, hopeless, distraught. He had known something was up with her. No wonder she reminded him so much of his best friend. She had been there the entire time.

"I sent Potter back to Dumbledore. I tried to patch up his throat, I... I don't know if he'll make it, but there's a chance," he said. "You didn't have to do that. Not after... God, Lily, what the fuck are you doing here?! And that," he said, pointing to her left, marred arm. What a waste. "All the things you've seen, you've done, I've done, oh God..." he said frantically to himself. Now she was here, part of everything, and in intense danger. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at her. "Why?"

The warm tingling that ran through her blood from how close they were quickly turned to ice at Severus' words. He's not going to get out of here alive... Ramona swallowed - or at least tried to - past the lump in her throat, just letting that fact sink in. Of course all of the Order members knew the price of war, but one never thought it was going to be them or someone they were close to. They were supposed to be invincible, the Mauraders, but maybe she had cursed them with what happened to Peter. Maybe they had been cursed from the start.

Severus seemed to catch on to her unease and she did her best to hide it, shaking her head. "Are you sure we can't just... obliviate him or something?" Even as she said the words she knew it was a ridiculous thought. What would even be the point? Dumbledore was just as strong as anyone on this side was with mind magic, maybe even more so. No matter how many loose or tangled threads he would find a way to put them back together and then they'd all be fucked. She may respect the man but sometimes... sometimes he seemed as cold as Voldemort when it came to the enemy.

"No, you're right, I know it. It's just... It takes awhile to get used to. The actual killing." She tried to explain, dropping her gaze and shaking her head again as if to clear it. They didn't have time to try and figure out a million ways around it... she was just going to do down there and do what she could.

At the very least the Malfoys weren't going to be directly involved. Narcissa was in a lucky enough position to stay out of it most of the time, and Lucius didn't seem to want to get his hands dirty any more than she did. Touching Severus' bandages as lightly as she could Ramona stood to her feet. "Just try not to get these bashed in again, alright? That was as frightening as anything."

~~//~~

As far as cellars went this one was incredibly well kept. There would always be a mustiness to being underground, but even as far as the safehouses went James had been in much worse. Mold was going to be the least of his concerns though because the last thing he remembered was bloody Severus Snape. Not bloody *enough* in his opinion, but he had managed to at least break a few bones he was sure. Even with her disguise just seeing the freak so close to Lily had made him see red, and look where it had gotten him...

Obviously he knew she didn't have it easy, but he had hoped things would be... different. She was quiet when she came to Order meetings, the last to arrive and the first to leave. Like a shell of the girl he loved, and he hated to see her broken down like this. The way she had been so concerned with the other man too just made him angry all over again. But he forced his attention back to the present as the door at the top of the stairs swung open, two sets of boots setting a beat as murmurs were traded back and forth. Probably deciding which one of the fuckers was going to have the honor of killing him.

He regretted the thought - at least halfway - when he saw Ramona was half of the set, and he tried to keep his eyes off her even though it was hard. "Couldn't even give a man the decency of a fair fight? Typical Snivellus." He scoffed, stomach sinking in his chest at the way Lils tensed. In the position he was in, wasn't he allowed a bit of taunting?

Ramona took out her wand and pressed it to his temple, forcing her face into a sneer. Her eyes were a dead giveaway, she was sure, but all the better reason not to have a lot of light down here. No one needed to see how much she regretted this. "You speak when you're spoken to, brat, and not before."

[elvisabutler]

lol please keep angst coming

so i did almost delete this but you know what i'm just gonna use it as an excuse to post the austin side of all this angst. is this necessarily a blurb? i don't know. it's a lot of words. i know that. and yes i might have had atlantis by seafret on for the entire time i've been writing this. blame spotify i think? tw: angst, death mentions not of the main people, leaked photos ( vanessa hudgens ), minor breeding kink implication, sexual themes, the general character bleed bs that comes with this pa! reader and austin, age difference, dom/sub.

we built this town on shaky ground

so consider the following. austin butler had been in a relationship for almost ten years to a woman that to this day he'll admit he at least somewhat loves. they had gone through a lot together. her father dying, his mother dying. her trying to process the likely lingering trauma of her photos being leaked when she was only 18. him trying and he'll admit this kind of failing to be seen as anything other than the pretty boy eye candy. it paid the bills he wasn't complaining, but this is the same man who printed out pulp fiction at 12 years old. he wanted more.

so when they break up- it's mutual, they'll always swear and because honestly it's no one's business why they broke up beyond that. and he thinks this is the time to just maybe have a fling, do something that isn't fall back into another long term relationship. doesn't necessarily want to be alone, doesn't necessarily want to be sleeping through all of young-ish hollywood. so meeting you? oddly great timing, he's heard a rumor or two about you. doesn't know if he should believe them until he actually meets you in person.

meeting you in person blew whatever thoughts he had right out of the water. baz puts you on the floor and you twiddle your ring and god. this is a problem. this is vanessa all over again isn't it? this is i'm going to careen into being wrapped around this woman's finger. except maybe not because- maybe you'll be wrapped up in each other. this. this is better. that is better.

he couldn't have predicted everything else. a quarantine that has him dropping food off to you like he's some superspy. that has him watching you sleep. that has him falling in love with you bit by bit. you don't fall in love in a month. but you do in six with you at his feet and his hand in your hair and he's got the best little dove in the whole wide world. he's seeing you blissed out on the bed or laying in the bathtub because whatever work out you decided to do for the week just made your muscles hurt. you're it. you're the beginning and the end of everything during those months. you as priscilla and him as elvis and who's who any more is anyone's guess.

the set is taking care of you, is seeing you in a dress like priscilla's and having to excuse himself because- he and vanessa had talked about getting married only for "or i guess we could be like goldie hawn and kurt russell" to leave his lips and her to swat him playfully. but seeing you like that? seeing you all dolled up has him buying a ring identical to priscilla's. he doesn't realize how wrong it is at the time because nothing seems wrong at the time. but he does later on. it's seeing you pregnant as priscilla and fucking you so hard as if he can override your patch in a fit of stupidity because neither one of you need a baby right now. it's later on that day that he's realized that he can't- he's stopped dreaming of a life post elvis without you.

it's filming the scene where priscilla leaves elvis and he breaks down crying against you. "dove, don't- you can't leave me okay? i can't handle that after ness and my mom. you're my girl. my little dove and i'll be your daddy. i won't leave you but please don't leave me." "i won't daddy." "tell me if it gets this bad. i'll fix it." "i will."

consider the fact that you don't and everything starts to keep blurring because they're in the home stretch of the film and austin can tell he's lost himself but he can't drag himself back up because other than maybe ashley and vanessa if he squints you're the only one who could pull him back. you do pull him back when you're in the apartment some times but not always. you've lost yourself and he's lost himself and it all comes to a head at the hospital.

you call him crying after him thinking your name is cilla and you finding the ring and the onesie he wanted to put your potential oops baby- named crystal lori he thinks- in and he's feeling a little more clear headed and "what's wrong, dove? i'll make them let me out, tell me what's wrong!"

you leave him and just call him to tell him that in a car. he has to pay an extra fee for the damage he might have caused to the room. he doesn't get angry ever but he figures he had one leftover elvis tantrum in himself.

you're gonna leave him, fine. he said he wouldn't leave you so he'll take it. "keep in touch, dove. i said i wouldn't leave you. i'm here for you."

and you do on occasion which he realizes- might have been a problem. he should have let you have the clean break. but he knew- he knew you still talked to papi and that man did damage to you he's not even sure you realize. so sue him for being selfish. for being that selfish daddy like all the rest.

so he lets himself enjoy his first year of his thirties and the tail end of his twenties. there's lily who he adores but he should have known better. there's olivia who is great and sometimes his brain wanders to another time and place where he could have switched for her if she had gotten the part. but then there's you in that dress with the boy who can't satisfy you and he's been good, he hasn't said anything but that dress and seeing his necklace still around your throat with your collar in his dresser? yeah that breaks him.

he drinks and spews filth and you're calling him butler and then he's blocked and kaia? kaia reminds him of you enough to not be painful but enough to make him think he's got a new little dove. until he meets her mom and realizes no- this isn't fair to any of you. so he breaks it off and tells her, "you're going to find a great guy, but it's not gonna be me. i'll be your friend though. if you need it."

and consider. the met happens after that and he should have told you then that he wanted to keep you forever. he didn't.

but he fixes it at cannes. and maybe that's how it was supposed to go. maybe that's how you were supposed to be all along. he doesn't dwell, after all isn't that what got you two in trouble in the first place?

[echos-newlegs]

would you be able to do 12 from the prompt list with Hunter, preferably smut?

You Help Me Calm

Heck yeah 😳 you didn’t give pronouns and I feel bad assuming even though half the users are she/her, so it’s gunna be a teeny vague— so NB reader

Hunter x Reader: “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day.”

Warnings: smut, little vague, hunter receiving, touch starved reader and hunter

You dug through some scrap metal, a pair of headphones covering your ears as you listened to music. It helped you concentrate, but you couldn’t listen to it on the radio, or even too loud for that matter. Or else Hunter would complain. That or you would just feel bad, because who likes overstimulating your sergeant?

You were humming softly as you worked on patching up some of the damaged panels on the ship. You guys didn’t realize have a choice of a new ship, so they were all thankful for your ability to rewatch things.

Hunter was on a run for supplies that you requested. He wasn’t really sure was he expected to see, but he didn’t expect you to be swaying your hips and murmuring the lyrics to the song playing into your ears. He could hear it, it was nice. It wasn’t something he would typically listen to, but he did enjoy it. Quite frankly.

He watched you for a moment. He loved how relaxed and yet so concentrated you were. Watching as you flicked the welding helmet down over your face and began welding the scrap metal to the side of the ship. Chewing on his bottom lip. He could watch you for hours honestly. You just had this calming effect over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were just a calm, relaxing individual. Or the fact that he had genuine feelings for you. Which the both of you knew about since he admitted to it while drugged up on meds after being shot. You hadn’t confronted him over it since the incident though. You weren’t sure how.

You turned to head over to the box and grab a few more pieces of scrap metal. Removing the helmet so you could see. Setting it to the side. Smiling up to hunter when you caught a glance of him. Though after you realized it. You froze.

You ripped the headphones from your ears, letting them drape around your ears. Skin turning red as you looked up to the Sergeant. “How long have you been standing there?” He chuckled. Approaching you further. Handing over the box of supplies. “Long enough,” He hummed and you smiled sheepishly. “Uh-huh, alright,” You spoke, rocking onto your heels. Then backing up and turning to set the box of supplies down. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working for nearly three hours.” He told you, and you sighed. “Alright, fine.” “that was easy,” He chuckled, and you shoved him a bit with a grin. “You can convince me to do about anything and you know it.” You giggled and he shrugged.

the two of you boarded the Marauder, everyone else was out and about. Running around town or at the local cantina looking for a date for the night. You were too focused on work, and Hunter? Well you weren't sure.

You sighed as you plopped yourself in a chair. Hunter taking seat near you. "So why aren't you at the cantina or something? Scared Cross is gunna get laid before you?" You teased and he rolled his eyes a bit with a chuckle. "Hmm, no, I just don't wanna. Plus I figured I'd get in some alone time with you."

You could tell he regretted his words by the way his nose scrunched. "Oh?" You spoke, intrigued. "What do you mean by that." A small smirk finding its way to your lips.

His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. But there wasn't one. "Well.." he shifted a bit, then looked back to you. "I just figured we could.. talk?" He had been in a sensitive mood lately, so this was new. He must be feeling better. His stimulations died down a bit. Which really did give you ideas.

"Alright, what do you wanna talk about, Hunter." You questioned raising a brow. Watching as his eyes scanned over your face as you leaned forward a tad. "Hm.." he hummed, then blinked and shook his head. "Well, I wanted to ask you something, more so."

You grinned, and tilted your head. "Yeah? Is it about that night in the med bay?" You joked, halfly.

His tanned skin turned a bit red, and he nodded a little. "Yes, actually." You raised your brows slightly. Shocked he wanted to talk about it. "Okay, alright.." you hummed. Licking your lips. "What about it?"

"Do you remember what I said?" He asked, and you nodded. Glancing down with a small smile. " 'Oh, y/n.. have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Or stars.. I just wanna kiss you so bad, feel your skin, hold you.' " you imitated his voice with a goofy look.

You broke into a small giggle when he glared and folded his arms. "I did NOT say that," "oh, but you did." He huffed, and then sighed. "Okay, maybe I did, BUT, I didn't sound like that." You shrugged your shoulders with a titter.

He sighed once more and rubbed his chin. "I just wanted to know if you felt the same way?" He asked and you licked your lips. Then pulled your bottom lip in to rest between your teeth. Watching as his gaze watched the movement. "For a guy with overestimated senses you sure ask some dumb questions."

He looked at you with shocked eyes, and he smiled. Hope written on his face. You thought it was adorable, really.

"Yes, I feel the same." You spoke with a smile. Watching and his eyes softened. His whole body softened. "Especially the kiss part," you spoke with a sly grin, and he smirked. Cocking a brow. "Really?"

You sighed, standing, and soon he did too. "Yes, Hunter, don't make me repeat myself." He stepped closer, and you stepped closer as well. Holding your hands over his shoulders. Giving him a questioning look, and he nodded.

You pressed your skin against his blacks. Watching as he tensed and then relaxed. His hands reluctantly coming to your waist. "Can I kiss you then?" You hummed, leaning in closer. "Nah, just decided I'd toy with you." You spoke and saw his expression begin to fall. "I'm kidding, yes, please."

He didn't leave time for you to change your mind. Moving in to press his lips to your. You wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands explored your body.

The kiss was soft, and heated all at once. Hands running to his hair which made him grunt in response. You always loved his hair.

He pulled back, the two of you huffing and panting. "Can we take it?" He motioned towards the bunks with his head, and you nodded. "Thought you'd never ask." You teased, yelping when he grabbed you by your ass. Lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Letting out a small giggle as he began kissing your neck, and then lips coming back to meet your own. "You're so perfect," he praised as he walked the two of you to the bed. "So kriffing perfect." He spoke. Voice lowering with each passing second it seemed.

He laid you down and you let your eyes fall shut as he climbed on top of you and began kissing on your neck. You didn’t move the others shirt. Worried that the skin on skin contact initiated by you would cause the other to overstimulate. You loved, but also hated how the other could do so, so easily.

He noticed your hesitance. Still working on kissing your neck. Though this time he brought your hand and slid it under his shirt. You took the invite with pride. Letting your hand slide up. Listening to the small whine he let out with amusement. Locking your legs around his waist. Then tugging his shirt up.

He shredded his shirt off, you doing the same. Allowing him more access to your body. Lips traveling down to your collar bone. Beginning to suck and scrape his teeth. “Hunter..” You mewled. His hands moving over your stomach. You could tell the way you said his name had him riled up even more than before. “Hunter, I want..” You panted, catching his attention.

“What do you want, Cyar’ika?” He purred against your ear as he leant up. “I wanna make you feel good,” You whined, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. The others would be out for a while, so the two of you would have the time for it. Not only the events itself, but the fact that it would take hunter a while to recharge. So to speak.

He looked you over, fingers running up to brush against your nipples. Making your back arch off of the bed. He smirked as he leant in and pressed another kiss to your jaw. “Hmm, I was thinking of making you feel good tonight.” “Me first,” you spoke and he rolled his hips into yours. Making you both gasp and moan.

Your lips crashing into his and meeting him in another heated kiss. His fingers tracing shapes in your body, and if you weren’t so drunk off of lust right now. You might actually pay attention to what he was drawing, but you couldn’t stay concentrated enough for it. Especially with another roll of his hips.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day..” He added with a small pant, making you smile with a bit more of a blush. On your already red face. “You’re such a fucking sap, now why don’t you roll over?” You asked with a brow cocked. Hunter doing as told.

He laid on his back, you sitting on his stomach now. Groaning a bit at just the sight of the other. You had been waiting for this for almost as long as he had.

Sliding down him, making a point to rub against him. Causing him to gasp again, fists balling.

You tugged his pants. Pulling them down when he lifted his hips up from the bed. Your hands moving to work, once this was done. You palmed him through his briefs. Hunter throwing his head back with a rather loud groan. Eyes snapping shut, then fluttering open again to watch you.

You trailed kisses and left your own trail of marks down his chest with a small hum. Licking, and then mouthing over one of his nipples. Your hand snaking into his pants, then pulling his member out.

He bucked into your hand, but you moved your hand with his motion. Refusing him the friction he wanted. Making him whine. Maker, you were glad the others were out doing their own thing.

You smiled at his small babbles and praises when your mouth got closer to where he wanted the attention most. Moving to the inside of his thighs. Teeth scraping at his sensitive skin. Causing his eyes to fall shut again. Hands carding in your hair.

You finally made to where he wanted you to. When he was already nearly toppling over the edge from how overpowered his senses were getting. From the smell of you both, to the sounds, to the feelings. Let alone the look of you as you trailed his body like you owned him. He was shocked he was still pieced together.

He let out a rather loud moan when you licked a strip up his dick. Making you groan a bit when his fingers tugged at your hair. Licking his tip, then sliding it into your mouth. He was panting and whining. making you wanna take more of your time. You had never seen him this desperate before. He was always so stern, so strict. Easy to tell you what to do, and honestly? You kind of enjoyed this side of him more than you ever thought that you would.

He let out a groan when you slid as much of him as you could into your mouth. One hand rubbing what you couldn’t get while you bobbed your head. The other arm holding his waist down to keep him from bucking his hips into your face.

You moaned around him as he buried the back of his head deeper and further into the pillow. “Kriff, y/n, ah, stars, I’m so..” He lasted longer than you thought. Hollowing your cheeks and taking more of him in. Soon he was cuming into your mouth, and there was nothing either of you could do about it. Not that you really mind.

He let out the loudest noise yet. Eyes snapping shut and face contorted as you milked him dry. Pulling off him with a ‘pop.’ Swallowing all except for a little that dripped down the corned of your mouth. Though you just wiped that off with your thumb.

He looked so exhausted just from a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to do now. Should you move, touch him, go in the other room, throw a blanket over him? What now?

“Lay next to me,” He murmured. Voice soft and tired. “But won’t that bug you?” “Just lay next to me, please, you help me calm.” He spoke through half lidded eyes. So you did. Climbing over to lie next to the other. Facing him and he pulled you over to his chest. Arms, well, whole body trembling like he was coming down from a sugar high. “Just, give me sec and then I’ll make you wish we had the whole night to ourselves.” He mumbled, and that made you smile and giggle. Kissing his cheek with a small hum. “I’m sure you will.”

[mappingthemoon]

When I was a smoker (2007-2018) it really seemed like I was in the minority and I constantly felt like a giant loser for having gotten myself addicted despite having known for my entire life that smoking is terrible and that cigarette corporations are straight-up Evil. I really thought Millennials could be the last generation of serious smokers because it was like literally everyone already knew that it is bad for you. And it seemed like everyone I knew who was a smoker also hated being a smoker and wanted to quit. So it’s been a huge bummer to have witnessed the rise of vaping in younger generations, and (being an old salty anticapitalist punkass) i'm very angerey abt how effective the marketing has been in convincing young people to pay corporations to slowly kill them. Below the cut is a brick of text abt my personal smoking/quitting story, sorry I neglected to use paragraphs.

I grew up in a smoker household, both parents having smoked since they were teenagers. When I was about 12 or 13, I was curious and swiped one of their cigarettes to try, but I thought it was disgusting – they smoked Kools – and threw it in the toilet after one puff. (I then proceeded to flush every cigarette in the pack, because I somehow reasoned they’d be less likely to notice a whole pack missing than a single cigarette out of a pack?) Many of my friends smoked throughout high school but I was never interested as a teenager and into the beginning of my 20s. I didn’t have my first full cigarette until I was 23 (wayyy back in 2007), and it was a hand-rolled American Spirit that a friend offered because I was stressed out over a weird argument with my sorta-boyfriend at the time. I loved how light-headed it made me feel, and I got hooked pretty quickly, though of course I didn’t think I was addicted because of all these made-up rules I told myself: I didn’t smoke a lot, I didn’t smoke in the daytime, I only smoked socially, I only smoked when I was drinking, I didn’t have cravings, I didn’t wake up and need a cigarette first thing in the morning, etc., etc. Eventually I’d broken all those rules and was smoking a pack or more a day. I switched from American Spirit rollies to Camel Lights to Pall Mall (lights or regular), the increase in smoking frequency necessitating a decline in quality because I couldn’t afford the “better” brands anymore. I was hella broke and lived in a punk house for most of my 20s and was not above literally smoking half-finished cigarettes I found on the sidewalk. I wasn’t proud of my habit, but I assumed I’d be able to quit easily “when I was ready” because I had started relatively “late” in life (LOL this is so naïve and wrong). I made up a lot of excuses for why I couldn’t quit at a given moment: I would quit when I solved my relationship problems (the “sorta-boyfriend” mentioned earlier soon became a live-in partner who was alcoholic and abusive to me for the next 5 years). I would quit when I finished my (fourth attempt at) undergrad degree. I would quit when I got out of service industry work. All of these things passed and I failed to quit, though I made many valiant attempts – my only experience with vaping was trying e-cigarettes back in like 2011-2012 when they were marketed as a smoking cessation aid. I also tried using quitting apps, nicotine patches, toothpicks, gum. Sometimes I succeeded in quitting for several months, but would always backslide because I’d make up another dumb rule: “I’ll only smoke if I’m drinking at a bar” or “I won’t buy my own cigarettes anymore” or “I am so fucking stressed out rn I’ll just have ONE.” I did not quit for real until July 17, 2018, when I was 34 years old. Over a decade of smoking. I did it cold turkey, and I fucking hated every second of withdrawals so bad, I was so angry all the time I thought my eyeballs were going to explode out of my skull or something. I have since read that it’s pretty common to try and fail at many different methods before finally, I guess, getting so frustrated with oneself that white-knuckling it through a cold-turkey quit actually works! Anyway, it was definitely fucking worth it. Man, the feeling of your senses coming back to you once the nicotine is flushed out… I had FORGOTTEN how GOOD food could taste! I had NO IDEA how much my sense of smell had been dampened by cigarettes! (Amazingly my partner had quit four years before me and continued to patiently tolerate the cloud of gross-ass odors that I was unaware surrounded me at all times forever.) I even began to feel feelings more deeply without the influence of nicotine. Like, I knew I was very obviously using smoking as an emotional crutch, but holy crap it was like the floodgates opened after I quit! If anyone has read through all this and is on the fence about quitting: YOU CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE IN YOU! Nicotine withdrawal is The Worst but it truly only lasts for a few days and you CAN get through it. You will become SO STRONG when you quit YESSSSSS.

share if you'd like to spread my curiosity! Also feel free to add how old you were, the rough year, and what type of nicotine you first consumed

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 12// Illusion of a dream

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | Wanda helps you stay out of HYDRA’s control

Warnings | kissing, swearing (maybe?)

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Hands interlaced, fingers tangled together and arms brushing lightly, y/n and Bucky wandered leisurely down the streets of Brooklyn. Casting shadows of burnt orange swooped down from the apartment blocks which towered high above them, the thin smattering of clouds blotched across the sky and petered out to reveal the star-speckled night-sky.

A soft sigh filled the space between them, a content smile stretching y/n's lips as she felt Bucky squeeze her hand a little tighter. The sound of her kitten heels clicking on the pavement echoed beautifully, the sound bouncing behind them as if someone were following them.

A squeal, high and playful, slipped through y/n's lips as Bucky suddenly jerked her to the side, her body caving to follow his.

"Bucky!" Y/n gasped, grunting softly as her back settled against the scratchy bricks of the tall building, the darkened lighting of the small alleyway engulfing them as Bucky chuckled.

"What?" The soldier grinned, a mischievous sparkle to his eye as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Y/n's face broke into a grin of her own, the smile stretching wide over her face as her eyes darted between Bucky's.

"Kiss me." She mumbled, hands resting flat on his chest, the dirty-green uniform soft beneath her touch. "Kiss me, soldier." Y/n whispered as he leaned further into her, his breath hot on her cheeks as his nose bumped against hers.

When their lips met it was awkward, clumsy even, with teeth clashing and giggles shared between mouths. Bucky finally pulled away, a hint of adoration could be found within the depths of his steep-blue eyes, a shadowy hue to add to the mesmerising merge of colour.

"I'm sorry - I don't really know what I'm doing." Y/n admitted sheepishly, cheeks growing hot as she looked away from him. Bucky's fingers found their way to y/n's chin, lifting her head up so she was looking into his eyes once again.

"You're doing perfect, doll." The soldier murmured, leaning forwards to connect their lips again.

This kiss was better, less messy. It was slow, languid, lips massaging lips and tongues slipping into each other's mouths. Y/n couldn't help herself from moaning into it, something that made Bucky's lips curls into something of a smirk as her hands grasped his uniform tighter.

"So much for not kissing me on our first date." Y/n mumbled as she pulled back this time, a little breathless as she let both Bucky and the wall behind her carry her weight. Bucky flashed a boyish grin, pearly-white teeth on display as his hands gave her hips a little squeeze.

"I couldn't help myself, doll."

...

"Do you have to go?" Bucky mumbled against Steve's neck, lips pressing to the column of his throat. Steve sighed heavily, hand rubbing soothingly against Bucky's shoulder as he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss into the brunet's hair.

"I'm sorry, Buck. But sadly the world doesn't stop when something bad happens. We've gotta find these guys, if even just a few HYDRA members are out there, we could be in danger. All of us." Steve explained, his heart aching at how tired Bucky sounded.

Sure, he was probably just knackered from how hard he had just been fucked, but Steve knew there were other factors contributing to his boyfriend's dropping eyelids and weak voice.

"I love you." Steve mumbled, interlacing his free hand with Bucky's, their legs tangling together.

"I love you too, punk." Bucky murmured, the ever-growing urge to sleep consuming his words with a lace of exhaustion.

"Jerk." Steve shot back, but a fond smile had found a way of twisting his lips as the word fell from him mouth.

...

The music was loud, but the boisterous sound of clicking heels and joyous laughter were louder. Y/n giggled, hand clasped tightly in Bucky's as he dragged her onto the dance floor.

"May I have this dance?" The soldier asked once they'd got out into the crowd of dancing people, holding y/n's hand still as he dipped into a bow before her. Y/n felt her cheeks grow hot, the sight of Bucky's blue eyes peering up at her through his lashes one she decided that she'd never grow tired of.

"You may." Y/n smiled back, voice playful as Bucky stood up straight and placed a hand on her waist.

"Bucky!" She gasped as he tugged her into him, her body flush against his as his feet begun moving. Y/n quickly found his rhythm, her feet gliding over the floor in time with his as she clasped his hand in hers, her other hand resting against his shoulder.

What she didn't expect, was for him to dip her. He dipped her low, so low that her hair fluttered over the wooden floor and their noses mingled. Bucky paused, and the room seemed to melt away.

Their eyes captured each other, breathing low and laboured as Bucky dared a glance at y/n's slightly parted lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He mumbled, lips almost brushing over hers as he spoke.

"Please." Y/n breathed back, and his lips were on hers. The kiss was sweet, loving. It was more tame than the one in the alley, but no less passionate.

I love you, soldier, is what y/n wanted to say in that moment. But she couldn't will herself to do so, she'd only known the man a few months - was it too soon?

The room seemed to fade back in as he pulled away, the song ended and a break for the band being announced and y/n took a deep breath. The moment was gone.

...

Wanda sighed, her hand turning the door handle before she was walking into the lab. Bruce looked up as she walked in, a small, sympathetic smile tight on his lips.

"Hey, Wanda. Do you need something?" He spoke, placing his clipboard on the table before leaning against it and facing the girl.

"Yeah- I, uh, have you had any luck with y/n's blood yet? Have you found anything?" Wanda asked, tugging at her sleeves as she spoke. Bruce's brows pulled into a brief frown before he was standing straight again, striding across the room.

"I'm getting there. It seems to me that whatever HYDRA did to her, is very similar to the super soldier serum. When I compared her blood to both Steve's and Bucky's, they all have it in common." Bruce said, fiddling with something on his desk for a moment.

"So why is she losing control? Bucky said they never used mind control on her like they did on him." Wanda pondered. Bruce huffed a sigh.

"Well, that's where it gets more complicated. I think she's being...tampered with." Bruce explained, scratching the back of his neck.

"Tamper with?" Wanda repeated.

"My theory is that they must've implanted something to help control her if need be, but it's been damaged or interfered with so instead of actually controlling her, it's making y/n lose control over herself." Bruce elaborated and Wanda nodded slowly.

"So we need to keep them out." She continued, and Bruce nodded. "I can do that. If I keep her mind occupied, you can find a way to fix her, right?"

"I think so. But it may take some time."

...

After dancing, Bucky insisted on walking y/n home. Of course, she wasn't going to argue. The streets were empty, slightly dark as the faint orange hum of the street-lights hovered over them like a halo.

All of a sudden, Bucky stopped. Y/n looked at him confused, her confusion only growing when Bucky grinned at her.

"What are you doing, soldier?" She tilted her head to the side, squealing a little gasp as he pulled the file into his and spin her around. He ended her movement with a dip, her hair brushing over the floor once again as Bucky's hot breath hot her face.

"I missed my chance earlier. So I thought I'd give it another shot." He mumbled, placing another sweet kiss to her lips before pulling away. "I love you, y/n."

Y/n couldn't contain her smile, eyes alight with joy as Bucky smiled down at her.

"I love you too, soldier."

...

Peter was...guilty, to say the least. He was sat wallowing, head in his hands and knees tucked to his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about it, thinking that everything happening was his fault.

Sure, y/n was the one that almost killed him, but he also provoked her. He lit the fuse, he made the fuse with tears of torment, exclusion and neglect. He made sure that Tony paid her no attention, because he wanted it himself.

And now, y/n was locked up, the CIA wanted to read charges, and it was Peter's fault.

And he hated it.

The boy took a deep breath, closed first hovering an inch or two away from the closed door. He'd been stood there so long, fist curled so tight that his knuckles where spotted with patches of bleeding-white, trying to muster the courage just to knock.

When his hand made contact with the wood, the sound was dull. Hollow. Fuck.

Peter instantly finding himself retracting his hand as if it had been scalded with hot water, his teeth gnawing on his knuckles in nervousness as he slowly backed away from the door.

But then, it swung open.

He looked exhausted, to put it politely. Bucky's hair was ragged, strands falling out of his lose braid to frame his face whilst the actual plait was fraying with frizz. His eyes were heavy, pulled and dragged by offensive bags hanging low to crown his cheeks, whilst his brows knitted together with a mix of confusion and fatigue.

If anything was clear, it was that Bucky hadn't slept well since y/n had been locked up.

But then again, neither had Peter.

"I have a plan." Is all Peter said, weak and frail as his voice cracked.

Bucky nodded, his large frame tilting as he stepped to the side with an outstretched arm. Peter spring to step, feet moving quickly over the carpeted floor as he made his way into the super soldier's room.

[wannajointhecrabcult]

Reckless Rescuer

I literally just came up with this idea at midnight last night when I was just starting to go into fever dream mode so... This will be interesting. You asked to be tagged so here you go @justconfusedperiod!

Imagine that Marinette never became Ladybug.

Master Fu chose actual adults to go save Paris while Sabine and Tom gave Marinette combat training.

Despite not being a hero Marinette was still caught up in a lot of akuma attacks (Because Hawkmoth is a bitter ass) so she learned how to use everything and anything to her advantage.

Even though she's crafty Marinette still dies in akuma attacks and gets revived by the Miraculous Cure at the end of the day.

As sad as it is, she becomes used to dying.

That doesn't mean that she TRIES to get hurt during attacks, it just means that she expects her life to end one day because of an akuma or something and for her to not come back, so dying isn't a fear for her anymore.

She also builds a tolerance for pain during attacks where she doesn't die, but still gets very injured.

It's amazing how trauma can practically destroy someone's life while others are just so desensitized that it doesn't affect them anymore.

One day the Dupain-Chengs move to Gotham to both expand their business, and to get away from a certain magic fueled fashion disaster.

I mean, seriously.

You're supposed to be a designer but here you are walking around looking like a cardboard candy cane beige toothpick of a man.

Don't get me started on what the heck happened with Hawkmoth's costume.

What is that?

Are you wearing a silver condom on your head or what??

Anyways, Marinette attends Damian's school and they bond over being the only one's not overly worried about danger in certain situations.

At one point Damian thought that she might have been a hero or something but threw that thought away when he witnessed her somehow fall UP a staircase. (I've actually done this before. Surprisingly it's pretty fun.)

All was fine and dandy until one afternoon when they were walking to Neti's place after school to work on a project.

They were walking through a less populated part of the city and were passing a shoe store when two thugs held them at a gunpoint demanding for their cash.

The youngest Wayne was fully prepared to attack the men when Marinette started scolding them for being rude?

Marinette: Hey! You can't just do that! Do you know how rude it is to interrupt someone's conversation?! Apologize right and leave us alone right now OR ELSE.

The two men just looked at her for a moment before doubling over and bursting out in laughter.

After all, what can this tiny school girl do to hurt them?

The first guy calmed down and was about to threaten them again when all of a sudden a pink flat was thrown at his face.

Because of he was unprepared and because of the force behind the flying shoe, he was knocked over and fell to the floor with a thud.

The second guys turned to look at the girl who just threw her shoe at his partner when he was suddenly wacked in the face as well.

So there they were.

Two teenagers, one with no shoes on, in front of a show store with two thugs at their feet.

Truly a sight to behold.

Marinette turns to Damian and asks him for his shoes.

When he doesn't respond (he's in shock) Marinette just shrugs, turns around, and SMASHES HER ARM THROUGH THE GLASS WINDOW OF THE SHOE STORE TO GRAB A CROC AND CHUCK IT AT THE FIRST GUY AGAIN BECAUSE HE WAS GETTING UP.

She then turns to the second dude who was on his knees and says in a dark tone, "You better go and leave us alone before I get my hands on a pair of iceskates. Got it?"

He nods his head and scrambles to run away from the short girl with pigtails that just single handedly smashed her arm through glass and was somehow not wincing in pain from her many bleeding cuts and she threw shoes at them.

His partner frantically got to his feet and followed him.

After making sure that the two would-be-muggers are far away Mari turns to Damian and waves her still bleeding hand in front of his face.

"Heelllooooo? Anybody home?"

She then shakes his shoulders a bit.

Damian, now no longer in shock, starts freaking out about her injuries.

"oh...my...gosh....oh my gosh... oH MY GOSH YOU'RE BLEEDING EVERYWHERE!! OHMYGOSH THAT WAS SO RECKLESS OF YOU, YOU COULD HAVE DIED AND OH NO YOU JUST STRAIGHT UP BROKE A GLASS WINDOW WITH YOUR BARE HANDS!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU'RE HURT! WE NEED TO GETYOUFIRSTAIDOHMYGOSH!!!"

She tries to get him to calm down but that honestly makes him freak out even more.

"HOW ARE YOU NOT REACTING TO THE PAIN OF CUTTING YOUR ARM WITH MULTIPLE PIECES OF GLASS?!? YOU FREAKING THREW SHOES AT THEM! SHOES! WHAT IF YOU FREAKING DIED FROM THAT?!?"

"Well that would make it the 2615th time."

"...."

"....."

"Excuse me but wHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT WOULD'VE BEEN THE 2615TH TIME YOU DIED?!??!??"

Marinette was trying to get him to breathe since he was almost on the verge of a panic attack when the owner of the shoe store came out with a first aid kit.

The elderly woman proceeded to patch up Marinette's arm while thanking her for scaring away the muggers.

"Those two just keep scaring the customers away so I cannot thank you dearie enough!"

"Oh, it was no problem ma'am. They really needed to learn some manners anyways!"

"They really are so rude aren't they. And there we go! Your arm is all bandaged up. I would be careful with it if I were you."

She old lady then turns to Damian who has calmed down a bit now that Marinette's arm is bandaged.

"You've got quite a wild girlfriend here. Be sure to watch out for her safety or else you're gonna lose her."

That causes the two teens faces to burn red.

"Oh no you've got it wrong. She's not my girlfriend although I do agree that I should start looking out far her health more." He turns to Marinette as he says the last bit.

She just replies with a sheepish smile and a shrug.

"She's definitely going to give me gray hairs early."

The store owner gave Marinette and Damian a knowing look before sending the two on their way.

On the walk to Marinette's house Damian kept scolding her for her brash decisions and worrying over her arm at the same time.

At one point Damian asked her if she could actually feel the pain from her cuts or not and she just replied with "I got injured a lot when I lived in Paris so I have a high pain tolerance. This isn't even the worst wound I've ever gotten."

Needless to say, that did not reassure Damian at all.

When they did reach their destination they ended up deciding to finish the project on another day to let Marinette's arm heal a bit.

He calls Alfred to pick him up and when faced with the butler's questioning stare he just replies with "Too much excitement for today."

Before the limo drove off Marinette ran outside to the car and handed Damian a bag full of pastries.

"Consider this an apology for making you freak out so much."

He nodded and took the bag but still told her "You're an idiot you know right?"

"Haha. Or so I've been told." She shrugs. "See you tomorrow in class if you're not too traumatized!"

"Tt. We live in Gotham. It's gonna take more than that to truly scar me. Although I have to say, that's the closest someone's gotten in a long time. Don't do it again."

"No promises!" Marinette yells as the limo drives off.

That night Damian got a nightmare filled with shoes.

Marinette is now known and feared throughout the more amateur criminal community.

True to her word, Marinette tried to reduce the amount of risky choices that she took.

I mean, there was that incident with the llamas, trumpets, and skateboards but we don't talk about that.

Her safety streak ended when Damian was kidnapped.

And by the Joker no less.

Ya, no.

She's not just gonna stand by while her friend litteraly gets kidnapped by a clown man thing when she could do something about it.

The Joker called the Waynes through a video chat and threatens the dump Damian into a pool filled with unidentified and possibly contaminated water until they give him half a million dollars.

And because it's a two way video chat and all of the Waynes (except Damian) are there they can't 'call the batfam' to save him.

Because they were all so busy panicking and Joker was busy laughing, no one but Damian noticed a dark silhouette sneaking around in the shadows.

The moment he saw them he immediately knew who it was.

'Oh no. ThaT'S MY IDIOT!!'

Marinette noticed Damian's panicked stare on her and just, gave him a thumbs up? Before going back into the darkness.

'Oh no oh no ohnoohnononono what's she doing?!' He thought to himself as he heard quiet shuffling in the shadows.

Going back to the screen, Bruce was about to send the money when all of a sudden a bright light was turned on from behind the Joker to the left.

And they weren't expecting what they saw.

There under the light was someone in a Barney the Dinosaur costume sitting in a rainbow bumper car with a radio and a bag filled with something strapped in the passenger side.

TrULy RaDiAnT.

The purple dino turned on the radio, (which was playing the Barney theme song) made eye contact with the clown, and promptly said "Beep beep bitch." in a robotic voice (there was a voice changer in the costume) before driving full speed at him.

At first the Joker tried to run away from the vehicle but for some reason the bumper car was extremely fast and RAN HIM OVER before turning around,

AND FUCKING DOING IT AGAIN!!

Double oof.

They did this around 12 times before the Joker managed to push up from under the bumper car at the perfect time.

Marinette did a backflip (dramatics are guaranteed) as she jumped out of the rainbow ride while simultaneously throwing the radio at the Joker at full force.

The Joker, not expecting that, was thrown against the base of a wall.

He got up just in time to see his attacker pull out a shoe from the bag and chuck it at his nuts.

*cue everyone either laughing at his pain or wincing in sympathy*

The Barney pulls out a sandal from the bag and throws it at his face and uses a black stiletto to pin the clown's arm tO THE FRIGGING WALL when he reaches to touch where the flip flop hit him.

(Is there a difference between sandals and flip flops?)

She then uses another stiletto (a red one this time) to pin his other arm and pulls out YET ANOTHER SHOE (a rainboot) to hit his face.

...again....

This time he gets knocked out though so there's that.

...

....

.....

The power of FOOTWEAR!!

The purple and green dinosaur goes to untie Damian while his family just watch through the screen with their jaws on the floor, still processing what the actual heck just happened.

They get snapped out of their shock when the youngest Wayne launches himself into the Barney's arms and starts rambling about how worried he was and did the store owner give you all those shoes and why the heck did you follow me here.

They don't know what they were expecting the person under the Barney costume to look like but they definitely weren't expecting a young girl with pigtails wearing stilts to come out.

Apparently she needed them to fit into the suit.

Damian: How did you even know I was in trouble?

Marinette: I sorta have a six sense for this kind of stuff. It's disappointing that I didn't get to use all of my amo though :(

Damian: Wait. You brought MORE shoes?

Marinette: Yep! And a couple other things as well. Like this trumpet case, and this bowling ball, and this duck themed alarm clock (I have one lol), and oh! Wait a moment would ya?

*walks over to the pool and dumps around 30 bath bombs in*

Marinette: There! Now this place will smell super nice!

Damian: Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of unidentified liquid?

Marinette: Yep!

Damian: Let me rephrase that. Did you just dump a ton of bath bombs into a pool of possibly chemically contaminated water which could possibly have a bad reaction to the bath bombs which could possibly explode or just generally be the death of us?

Marinette: ........

Damian: ........

Marinette: ......

Damian: ........

Marinette: ....well it wouldn't be the FIRST time I-

Damian close to tears: yEs I KnOw PLeaSe StOp ReMinDiNg mE.

Ya so this was just a random idea I had and that I will probably not be adding to but y'all reading this are more than welcome to! If you do continue or make your own little spins on this please tag me! I would love to read them :D

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Rebirth' : New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out !

Chapter Summary: Bell needs to remember what happened on the 23rd of February 1968, the day that she, Stitch & Bellamy met for the first time, Russell Adler after the CIA attack on Rebirth Island...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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23rd February 1968

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, KGB, Stitch's assistant

CIA temporary outpost on Rebirth Island in the Aral Sea, USSR

My eyes were narrowed at the max they could as my ears were whistling as if an explosion was in continuous near me. My body was looking exhausted, impossible to move at all my arms & my legs away as there were ropes wrapped hardly around them and it was hurting, more hurting than the numerous knife cut on my arms that were poorly healed, the bandage looking unchanged and in bad shape thanks to the blood on it.

Slowly, my mind was processing about the whole situation, my eyes following in it, turning my head around but the only thing I was able to do when I start to open back my eyes widely was to get blinded by the bright light in the center of the room on the ceiling. It took me almost a minute to actually open my eyes for good and to say, the situation wasn't very looking good for me...and Bellamy that was a few meters from me, like me...tied up to a chair, a blindfold covering her eyes and tape on his mouth...like me. There was an empty seat on the other side opposite Bellamy, bloodied.

In front of me, I could see two masked men, guarding the door of the room, their faces inexpressive towards seeing me or Bellamy, they were just here to keep an eye on us with their guns even if I could see a little smile on their faces, probably happy to have done their little mission on the island, just relaxing by guarding us in that room and suddenly, one of them moved to open the door like that, as I could see 'Stitch' with a bandage around his head covering his left eye.

"You see...well, it's a big word, you saw what I can do, Stitch," It was him...Russell Adler, his men were holding 'Stitch', bringing me to the bloodied chair, "I didn't pull out an eye from you to not have you talk but I hope you will talk soon," He added, still looking at Stitch behind his sunglasses as his men were starting to tying up Stitch on the chair.

"Fuck you," Stitch told him in a clear voice before he spits right on Adler's black boots but his only reaction was to simply smile at that action as one of his men punched Stitch on the left part of his face.

"It isn't enough but at least, you said something else than your name & rank," Adler said, passing his hand through his hair after he removed his cap, not removing his eyes away from him. "So now, you're going to talk: where's Dragovich?" He asked Stitch who was looking down at his feet, trying to struggle with his links.

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin, KGB officer of Laboratory 12," Stitch replied to him in a normal voice, avoiding any eye contact with Adler with his remaining eye.

"For fuck sake, I took an eye out and you're still not talking," Adler sighed, sounding mostly annoyed in his voice and putting his hands on his jaw, going down on it. "I don't give a damn about who you are, tell us where's Dragovich?" He asked again, using the same tone as before, adding a bit of angriness in his voice at the end.

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin, KGB officer of Laboratory 12," Stitch repeated in a low voice this time, looking at Adler in the eyes, a look of rage on his face as I could see. "I will find you, Adler, I will," He warned him and even that sends me chills inside of me because of the tone he took towards Adler.

"We'll see about it," Adler only smirked at him before he finally removed his eyes from him... curiously going into my direction. "Maybe that your friend can help us instead," He snorted, starting to walk in my direction before he stopped in front of me, removing by force the tape off my mouth and he didn't go easy on it. "Miss, I hope that you will cooperate with us because even if you're a woman, I'm not hesitating," He explained to me.

"Ain't going to give you shit," I told him, making him clear and looking at him with desperation and as I feared, he decided to put his hands on my arms, holding them firmly to hurt me deeply within the bandages.

"And me, I want to know things, miss," He sniffed, keeping his hands on me, waiting for me to talk. "Where's Dragovich?" He demanded to me.

"Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, KGB recruit...of Laboratory 12," I responded to him, doing the same thing as Stitch did as a smile was coming on my face before Adler moved his right hand to my neck but I was continuing to smile at his face, "What do you get, big guy? Got angry?" I scoffed at him before receiving a punch right on the face with his left fist.

"Be funny, dipshit," He cursed to my face before I saw him taking his knife out of his back, holding it with his left hand. "You surely don't want me to do what I did to your friend, don't you?" He asked me, showing me his knife and slowly approaching it to my face, a smile still on it.

"Yirina 'Bell Grigoriev, KGB recruit of Laboratory 12...and just go fuck yourself," I repeated, smiling at him despite the danger of doing that, and I could see him start to move the end his knife near my left eye before he stopped himself.

"No, I ain't going to make you a one-eyed woman, just going to leave a permanent mark," He stated to me, grinning before he removed with his knife, a part of my black shirt to let my left shoulder visible. "Don't cry too much, it's going to hurt," He said before he starts to plant his knife against my skin, feeling the cold of it on my skin and the pain starting to appear in me and I wanted to cry but Adler moved his right hand in front of my mouth, avoiding any sounds to come out of my mouth.

"A big scar for the rest of your life, more pleasant than losing one of your eyes but making you less comfortable with yourself," Adler exclaimed, making a straight line with his knife on my skin, going to my left shoulder to my right one above my breasts, making sure that the knife was deep enough to leave a mark on me but not so deep to kill me. "Now, are you willing to speak, or do I have to make another scar?" He demanded with a smile as his knife was going back along my new scar, blood going out from it.

"Just eat shit & die," I mumbled to him, not even able to look at him in the eyes.

"Damnit, is everyone this stupid to not talk in here?" Adler sighed again, desperate to not having me talk but the situation wasn't funny for me anymore, I was bleeding a little but it was making me nervous to have a part of my shoulders exposed to everyone in...

"Adler." A voice spoke inside the room, coming from the room's opened door, and Adler closed his eyes for a second before he turned around away from me. "Hudson needs your help with Mason, it's important," It was a man with a black eye patch with a Russian accent, dressed in a yellow Hazard uniform.

"As you wish, Weaver," Adler told him after a few seconds of reflection from him, putting his knife back. "You two, try to not let her bleed out and keep an eye on the three, I will come back later," He ordered to the two guards that were standing near the door before he starts to walk away, following this Weaver out of the room.

As the door was closed by Adler behind him, the guards looked at each other before one of them resigned himself to move to grab the necessary things to patch me up on a little table near where Stitch was sitting and then, going to me apply some wound disinfectant along the new scar I now got, making me groan a little before he could put the bandages around me and by the look of it, the guy was making a poor job on me, mostly intentionally.

It was while he was wrapping me in those bandages that I start to slowly try to struggle with the links as the guy said that he needed me to relax while he was healing me up, having softened my arms links and right at the moment he has finished with me that my left arm was no longer around a rope, causing me to make the first move and hit him right into the jaw, making him fall back on his ass on the ground.

Of course, as I predicted, the second guard was directly reactive towards the situation, going to charge me for a punch and knocking me out and everything was against me as only my left arm was free, the other part of my body still in rope and quickly, I decided to decide between turning around in a fast move and suddenly, going back to throw myself on the running guard to take him out too for a moment.

The move caused the wooden chair to broke up in pieces at the impact on the ground as it was old enough to break at the first brutal move with it, making me free of my moves, still having part of the chair on my right arm and my legs but at least, I was free. The first guy I hit was starting to get back on his feet but for him, I grabbed one of the knives that were on the second guy's body to throw it to him, hitting him in his right eye, deeply enough to kill him.

"Good work, Bell," Stitch complimented me in a low voice as I moved to free him of his own links, after having to back the knife from the dead guy's body.

"I wasn't going to let this chance pass through me like that," I stated to him, referring to the moment where the first soldier softened my arms links as I was cutting the ropes off his arms. "Do you know where we are?" I asked him, not recognizing the place at all.

"In the abandoned prison in the north of the island we used for tests, underground of it," He replied, looking at his freed hands as I was going to cut his links from his legs. "It's one of the parts of the island that wasn't affected by the Nova-6," He added, finally freeing him before I decided to quickly help the poor Bellamy.

"And the whole island is under the CIA's control..." I whispered slowly, taking off Bellamy's mouth lips in a quick move.

"Ouch, not this hard, Bell!" He said in an almost loud voice, complaining about me.

"Hey, you want to get us spotted by the others outside or what?" I asked him in a clear & serious voice, annoyed by the fact that he almost shouted. "I didn't do this to have you doing this," I exclaimed before taking a deep breath and then, removing his blindfold and cutting his links.

"Damn, how long we have been here?" Bellamy asked, blinking with his eyes, blinded by the light of the room like me.

"Only a few hours, I presume?" I suggested, looking at Stitch who nodded at me. "Yeap, a few hours," I said, looking back at Bellamy.

"We're going to find a way to get out of here and I know how," Stitch spoke up, going up from his chair and moving to grab one of the soldier's rifles on the ground.

"And what's your plan, Stitch?" Bellamy demanded, raising an eyebrow to him as he got up from his chair, holding his right wrist after I finished with him to cut his ropes, keeping the knife with me. "Because if you want to retake the island with only the two of us, not sure that's going to work," He added.

"There's a radio in the old warden's office on the second floor, we can contact a rescue party to get us on the prison's roof," Stitch replied, checking out the mag of the gun he took on the ground as Bellamy was taking the other rifle on the ground, giving me only a simple M1911 pistol from the unconscious guard. "We contact them, we wait on the roof, and then, we're out,"

"Okay, we should go now," I suggested about it despite that I was only armed with a pistol and a knife and maybe that the whole CIA was waiting for us through this closed door.

"We have to get on our separate way, I have to go recover some things that can't fall in the CIA hands underground as for you two, you need to go to the warden's office and make the call," He told us before he starts to move towards the unconscious guy. "Besides, you & Bellamy is making quite a good team,"

"Stitch, you're missing an eye, you need to come with us," Bellamy suggested but Stitch shook his head.

"I know my way around, Bellamy, go, I'll join you on the roof," He ordered us, gesturing to move away as he was starting to put his hands around the unconscious guy's neck to strangle him and kill him, "Go, you have a job to do," He continued and I nodded to him.

"Let's go then, Bellamy," I spoke up, cocking the M1911 as Bellamy was taking the lead in front of me, opening the door slowly and peaking his head to look outside.

"It's all clear, let's move," Bellamy whispered before he starts to walk in a slow & careful way as no one was wanting us to get jumped off by a surprise CIA agent or anything else.

I stayed behind him all the time, leaving Stitch inside the room we were holding on to as we were now walking through the multiples hallways of the prison's underground, avoiding engaging the various CIA patrols around and if we were able to, we took out some of them by behind by using our fists & knife as it wasn't the moment for us to get spotted by the CIA, not after being this far of getting free by luck.

Of course, both of us were nervous as hell to travel through the prison hallways, Bellamy the only one between the two of us to know his way around inside and we needed to stay discreet in our way towards the warden's office that was, according to Stitch to the second floor of the building and thankfully, Bellamy was the one leading me towards the office.

After passing discreetly through the underground and the first floor that was mostly unoccupied by the CIA but still patrolled, we finally arrived on the 2nd floor of the building and a few moments later, we were in front of the warden's office, a red door separating us from entering it....a red door that was quite distinguished among the look of the building as it was looking cleaned up and not so in place around here...

"It's good, Bell...continue to remember...you're doing great...continue..."

We entered the office, finding it in bad shape but there was the radio that Stitch talked about, and near it, there was a file with a trace of blood on it, getting my interest on it and taking it with me as Bellamy was moving towards the radio to get it on.

"Guard the door, I'll be contacting our rescue party," He suggested to me as he was the one to know what to do with the radio, handing me over the rifle he was using.

"Good," I complied, taking the rifle in my hands before moving to the door, peaking my head from time to time to see if no one was coming while Bellamy was doing his things with the radio.

"Anyone copy? This is Rebirth speaking." Bellamy started, taking a low voice to avoid us getting spotted in case, the office having only broken windows. "This is Rebirth speaking, is there anyone outside the island that can help us?" He continued, feeling the pleading in his voice.

"This is the Colonel Lev Kravchenko, who's speaking?" A man's voice came out of the radio, giving us some hope as we recognized the man that was leading the Nova-6 project in Rebirth Island himself.

"This is Bellamy Petrov, I'm with Yirina Grigoriev and our chief, Vikhor Kuzmin, we've managed to get free from the CIA that took over the island and we need to get rescued, it's our only way out," Bellamy explained everything to the Colonel, sounding relieved to have him through the radio.

"Tell me where you are, we're not this far from Rebirth," Kravchenko demanded.

"In the abandoned prison up north of the island, we need to get retrieved on the roof," Bellamy responded to him clearly before suddenly, the sound of an old alarm was starting to ring inside the whole prison. "Shit, they surely spotted that we got away, save us quick, sir!" He added before cutting the radio off, knowing that time wasn't at our side right now.

"We should run to the roof, Bellamy," I proposed to him, starting to walk away from the office with his rifle before I saw some soldiers coming from the hallway we arrived here, opening fire on me and causing me to retreat inside the office. "Fuck, there's no way out!' I yelled, closing the door again, locking it from the inside as I could hear the muffled gunshots against it on the other side.

"Don't worry, there's an exterior emergency staircase near, follow me," He moved towards to take his rifle back before he starts to walk to one of the broken window, following him and discovering in fact, a metal staircase, going on the roof just above us. "Quick, this door ain't going to hold with them," Bellamy shouted at me, urging me to follow him outside before I passed through the window after him.

"Up there, on the staircase!" Someone shouted on the ground, probably a soldier.

"Don't stop & run!" Bellamy advised as bullets were starting to fly over in our direction as we were literally running on the stairs to join up the roof, the bullets mostly trying to hit me the most than Bellamy himself.

"Over here!" I heard Stitch's voice as we were getting in cover from the bullets from the ground, seeing him hide behind a cover a few meters from us and holding the same rifle from before. "Are you both okay?" He asked us.

"We almost got killed but yeah, we're good," I replied to him, joining in cover before showing the file I took in the warden's office. "Found this in the office while Bellamy was making the call, must be important,"

"Of course, we couldn't let this get into the CIA's hands, good work, Bell!" He complimented me before he peaked his head up from the cover, doing the same as him and seeing him a dozen soldiers arriving on the roof.

"We only had two rifles, a pistol, a knife along with only one mag for each gun," Bellamy stated, taking a look with us at the soldiers that started to fire at our position. "Even if we're very precise, I'm not sure that we can kill them all," He scoffed, shaking his head as he was hesitating to ripost. "Let's hope that our rescue will be here soon,"

"Speaking of the devil..." I muttered, starting to hear the sounds of a helicopter coming close to our position and looking Russian...our rescue party. "Here's Kravchenko!" I pointed out to the chopper for the two of them and directly after a few seconds, I said that that helicopter started to fire its gun towards the CIA soldier's positions.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Bellamy joked, making shots towards the CIA guys as the helicopter turned around, opening its loading bay door to let us in.

"Go inside, I'll cover you," I suggested and the two nodded, Stitch giving me his rifle as he starts to run towards the chopper where he was greeted by a soviet soldier as I was providing cover for him & Bellamy. "Bellamy, your turn," I told him and he moved, staying alone to fire the few bullets I've got with me.

"Come on, Bell, run!" I heard Stitch speaking to me as more soldiers were coming in to stop us to flee and seeing that he was right, I threw away the gun I've got in my hands before starting to run to the helicopter and then, jumping in it as it moved a little away from the roof's ridge. As I thought to have missed my jump, I was hopefully grabbed by my hand by Stitch himself. "I've got you,' He said, pulling me up from the void back inside the helicopter who was going away from Rebirth...finally free.

"Finally free, we've got freed and we saved intel," Bellamy stated, seeing him sit down near a soldier as his look was on the file I was having with me.

"Not totally free, comrades," A voice spoke up, Kravchenko himself that was inside the cockpit, removing his headset before going up from his seat to face Stitch himself, his soldiers moving around us. "Do you realize that we lost our main Nova-6 production side to the CIA?" He asked Stitch in particular.

"If we were given more logistics and equipment, the situation wouldn't have happened, Colonel," Stitch protested to him before suddenly, my arms and legs were grabbed by the soldiers near me, and then, I could feel something touching me in my neck...like a needle..."What the...." Stitch tried to say before he suffered the same state as us.

"You put a shame towards our union today, Stitch," Kravchenko said to him before a soldier did the same thing they did to me & Bellamy, starting to feel exhausted and wanting to sleep. "You & your friends aren't friends of the state, your places...is in a gulag!" He added towards us before the soldiers released us without any resistance from us, knowing that we're passing out on the helicopter floor, freed from Rebirth but betrayed by the state we believed in....

We were betrayed...and that's why...we're here now...

[theramseyloft]

3/12/21 Loft Notes

My idiot son thought he would challenge the shop vac today over it getting to go into quarantine when he can't.

He tried to bite what he considered its face.

Patron: "And what did he consider its face?"

The nozzle I was sucking up dried Bird-Bird hallway poos with.

Patron: "w....while it was on or"

I was using it at the time, yes.

It went predictably.

It's too narrow to suck his head all the way in, but he did snatch away from it and run.

Nothing injured, no worries.

Ooh!

IQ just received Rogue's sample!

So, I should know their sex Tuesday or Thursday. (2-4 work days...)

Patron: "what are you hoping for cock or hen?"

Just to know.

I have people on the wait list for therapy cocks and hens, if they pass.

If they wash, but are friendly, I have people on the list for companion birds of either sex.

And if they prefer other birds, I have some one on the breeders list for Spread.

So, no matter what sex or temperament Rogue turns out to be, there is a home lined up.

Bluh... I am just... Worn to the bone exhausted.

Ok.

Got all the inside stuff done, and need to stop for lunch.

It feels like I'm just running so far below empty...

Patron: "God I feel you, but you can do it! Get help if you need to, you don’t have to do it all yourself (hopefully)"

Bless you for the sentiment, but I do.

Got food in me again. Hopefully, that helps.

No pip marks yet on the bator egg.

Need to ask you guys a favor from now on.

If y'all see me online on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, doing anything but taking loft notes here...

Ask me if I am done in the loft.

My executive function is so garbage that it functions like a tower of blocks that I have to manually stack at the beginning of every day.  

Especially if I'm low on spoons, doing anything other than what manually needs to be done for the birds in the morning forces another block in at the base of the stack, and the whole thing topples.  

It can take me hours to restack it, and I cannot move until it's restacked.

Thank you.  

I have restacked that damn thing four times today, I am just getting started with work in the actual loft, only the inside birds have been fed.

I'm kind of a mess, nothing is fixing it, and I keep being magnetically drawn to my phone for any hope of a dopamine boost.

My brain is fried, and I just need to keep moving until I can stop.

Rogue is up and mobile, so I need to start harness work for them SOON!!!

Patron: "what is rogue looking like? i tried to look up a pic earlier and only see a hatch day pic"

Yeah, I have over w eek of media backlogged because I just... Have had no time.

Black with white flights.

Between prep for travel Monday, some family crap that broke out that night and only allowed me two hours of sleep, travel on Tuesday, server drama that night, literally collapsing from exhaustion, having to get up and clean the loft Wednesday, and car shopping on Thursday...

The only time I have had to myself was spent sleeping.  

I have not even had time to post any of the photos I have taken.

I am dead on my freaking feet.

And yeah, Rogue is Leonard's.

He's the only spread cock, and he appears homozygous.

Ginger is Ash Red. Unless he carries blue or brown, all babies out of him will be ash red.

Chiffon is also spread, but they're heterozygous, not yet sexually mature, and likely a hen.

Angel is getting the hang of hands being the interaction bits, and has discovered that there are no unpleasant consequences for biting those.

He seems to feel better now that he knows what part of me he can lodge complaints with and engage for play fights.

He is absolutely fascinated by the bucket of seeds with character that I have cleaned off the floor.

Birds are getting a little treat today!

It's nice out.

I'mma fill them a bath.

They have been trying to bathe in their water dish for weeks now.

Betty and Liang's egg was fertile, but died two days or so into development.

Which means she can be safely separated as soon as some one wants her.

God bless that salt and mineral brick absorbing moisture from the air.

The sand has been SO easy to clean!

Note to self, check Satin's fan and Sprinks' underfluffies and see if they need their breeding trims renewed...

Oh!  I should probably check Farthing's underfluffies too.

Some one tread or attempted to, but I couldn't see who.

Weeeell fuck me runnin'...

Couture has a crest.

Sprinks doesn't cary a crest.

Satin is half Danzig, so he does, but if his were dominant, or partially dominant, he would express it.

The Komorner crest is partially a hood, much the way an Old Dutch Capuchin's is.

That's a combination of the Shell Crest (recessive) and a hood modifier (which appears partially dominant, if Papillion and Cookie are anything to go on.

Cotoure maaaay be another Vito child...

Which would also explain their very small size.

A child out of Satin and Sprinks should be HUGE!

Like, just-under-Lucy big.

The Lahore pattern, I believe, is a combination of bald head and capped.

So, throw in another bald head, and the cap separates out.

So, Vito has been a GREAT investment for loft diversity!

Hopefully, his kids inherit his fertility and not so much his bastard. XD

He's been a great nest partner to Leela (who may also need her underfluffies trimmed)

I'd really like to see what he is like on peeps before he retires for his slutty, slutty crimes.

Betty tops the retirement list right now for having a sexually mature daughter and granddaughter, and a second granddaughter out of another son.

WAY too much temptation for a boy who loves girls shaped like Hagrid.

Luxie tops the hen list for being Luxie.

Liang is retired already.  Now that MJ is mom-ing like she should, she's lower on the list.

Presently, Vito is after Betty on the retirement list for slutty bastard crimes. XD

Good lord, the little black pied peeps are taking flying hops!

There are vids up on insta of the bath, and of Leonard feeding his peeps.

Patron: "Oh my god if that's another Vito kid"

"did you ever catch Sprinks interested in him"

Nope!

Angel is a very funny man. He was wooing my feet, and when I told him that, he charged in and bit my toe. XD

And then pooed the one patch of sand I had cleaned. XD

Danica may be getting ready to lay tonight.

Danica may be getting ready to lay tonight.

In the box she and Ginger had wanted before Satin and Sprinks had to come in.

Farthing and Leela just got their underfluffies trimmed.

Angel, caught in the act, eating garbage.

He just got more dumped on him, shook it off, and went right back to rummaging for treats.

Has made not move one to leave.

Now he is on my shoulder, complaining about me repeatedly interrupting him by dumping in more.

Thistle just tread Mj, despite Pippin's cock blocking efforts.

Holding Nettle is apparently a crime.

Angel bit my ear for it and got tossed off my shoulder.

Now he's back, complaining about it.

She loafed in my lap after fighting me the whole way through putting Nettle down.

Angel does NOT think I am engaging him enough.

Since biting isn't working, he is now pooping where I have just cleaned.

I don't like the way Ginger is breathing.

He's been fine up to this point...

And it could just be from being really active this evening...

But he isn't the only bird who was and none of the rest are panting like that.

Man, it would SUCK for Nica to lay and then me to have to bring him in...

But the way his chest is pumping, and he keeps flexing his beak hinge really worries me.

Hopefully, some one else lays near enough to Nica that I can swap her eggs over.

Or he's just gotten a feather or something stuck in his choanal slit.

Ok.  I think is is something stuck.

He hasn't done the uncomfortable yawn or swallow.

Just flexed his beak a lot and itched at the corners of his mouth.

It looks like he's dislodged it and is breathing normally.

Y'all have NO idea how paranoid I am about Trich!

Mm.. that looked like an uncomfortable yawn and more heavy breathing.

Gonna grab him once I finish up the sand.

God damnit... Lot of mucus...

Maybe something stuck?  Can't tell...

I'm tired, and don't want to accidentally hurt him..

I also don't want to risk putting Danica in a dangerous position when she's about to lay.

Her bastard ex could kill her by forcing her into another stress lay.

I may have a solution.

Need to run to get it set up, though.

Ok, on our way to Walmart to grab a kennel.

The only place open didn't have the size kennel I wanted, but they had a pet taxi big enough.

The egg due to hatch today was rotten.

[whynotwinnie]

Timida part 2: Roger Taylor x OC

a quick part 2 that i wrote just now hopefully I keep the momentum lol

Timida Part 2 

No Trigger warnings yet (there is one cuss word though)

MICKEY

“It took you long enough,” Roger said you could see his fake mad face from here. You couldn’t help but laugh checking the clock on your wall reading 7:37

“Sorry, I left the cafe a little later than expected.”

“What time did you end up leaving?”

“It was almost 7 when I walked out.”

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted into the receiver. You flinched at the sudden noise jerking your head from the speaker.

“I was literally right there, I could’ve stopped by after recording to go see you again. I thought you would be gone by then.” hearing the pout that he definitely had on his face made your heart jerk.

“I actually usually stay there for a while, I don’t like being at home by myself,” you cringed at yourself realizing how you sound “I mean like- I don’t like being lonely,” you ran your hand through your hair wishing you could go back in time.

“I understand what you mean like you realize how alone you are when you’re… well alone. I used to get like that too when I moved out but now that I live with one of my bandmates I wish I could be alone.” He joked.

God, he is so nice and respectful good thing you didn’t hang up.

“That’s exactly how I feel.” you almost whispered to the receiver

“Don’t feel bad I’m sure everyone has gone through that in one way or another, but hey you’re never alone you have me, and if you’re lucky I’ll only bother you all the time.”

You laughed, he is so good at talking you felt yourself start to relax and you pulled a nearby chair to the phone hook so you can sit and talk.

“How was your band recording going?” wishing you sounded less awkward than you felt. 

“It was great actually we hardly fought this time and we didn’t have to record the same song more than six times so I’ll say it’s a win.”

“Do you guys fight often?”

“Well… Noooo-yeah we do but we know not to take it to heart we all just want the best for the group, by the end of the day whatever fight broke out is forgotten and forgiven. It’s very rare that we don’t fight but hey, maybe today was my lucky day with meeting you and a good band practice.”

Your face burned. 

“Oh well, I got free coffee today and met you so I think I got lucky too.”

You spent the rest of the time getting to know little things about each other

What’s your last name? Taylor, What’s yours? Oliviero-Vila. What’s your favorite color? Black, can I guess yours. Sure. Purple. No, it’s Green. Green does suit you, Mickey. Do you have any siblings? Yeah, my sister is named Clare. Do you have siblings? I have four older brothers. Jesus Christ four? Yeah, their names are Lucas, Marcelino, Benvolio, and Matias. How was that? Yeah, growing up was a pain but I love them… I guess. Do you have a middle name, mine is Luciana. No, I don’t have a middle name. You don’t? Nope. Are you sure? I’m sure. Are you lying? No why would I lie about my middle name? I don’t know maybe because you don’t like it. Who doesn’t like their middle name? Roger are you going to tell me your middle name or not. Fine… It’s Meddows. I like it! Well of course you do, you’re a girl. I’ll switch you Luciana for Meddows. I’ll take that deal.

It went on and on until he brought up what you did for work. 

“Well it’s kind of a long story but I used to work for this seamstress downtown but recently I decided to go a different direction and work for myself.”

“So do you like fix clothes?” 

Ouch 

“Well I do that, but I also make my own clothes which is my real passion but as of right now all the orders I get are me making hemlines or fixing a patch.” 

“Where have you advertise your stuff?”

“At the cafe actually I put my information on the community bulletin board and got a handful of customers.”

“Next time you and I can go hang flyers all throughout town advertising your stuff if you want.”

“That’s okay,” you said grinning “I think I’m doing well for myself as of right now.”

“Let me kno- Fred are you serious right now Mickey can you give me a second please.”

You heard commotion on the other end of the line another voice and Roger arguing back and forth until.

“Hello Darling, is this Mickey?” you heard Rogers voice faintly in the background “Fred stop that’s not funny.”

“Umm yes.”

“You sound pretty I can understand why Roger was an hour late to recording today.” Rogers voice again in the back “C’mon don’t do that”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know he had anywhere to be.” were you in trouble right now?

“That’s okay dear I don’t blame you, of course, it’s this devil over here that causes all the trouble. But I have to say he could not stop talking about you he just kept going on and on about how you were so beautiful and how funny you are.”

You stayed quiet, how are you supposed to answer that?

“I don’t think I’m that funny.” 

The other voice laughed “I think we’re going to get along great, I’m Freddie one of Roger’s bandmates and his flatmate so for future warning don’t fuck in my room.”

You choked red in the face “Oh gosh no- I wouldn’t- I mean in your room- I mean I just met Ro-”

“I’m just joking darling! Please you are too sweet I’ll let you go but I do expect to see you soon. Ta!” Freddie then handed the phone to Roger who had some choice words for him.

“I’m so sorry about that Mickey, I couldn’t grab the phone from him because he was sitting on me.”

“It’s okay no harm done, he is actually quite funny.”

“Yeah, he’s like that all the time.” he yawned you checked the time 12:26.

“I can let you go, I think that’s enough excitement for the day,” you said 

“I would love to continue to talk to you Mickey, honestly.” 

“Can I call you tomorrow?” you said softly

“Yes please,” he sighed “Our recording ends at the same time but on the weekend we’re off, do you think I can take you on a date then?”

“I would like that very much, Roger.” 

“Great. I’ll let you get your sleep now Mickey.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Roger.”

“Goodnight love” and he hung up.

That “goodnight love” kept replaying in your head until it felt fake, you couldn’t possibly go to bed. 

You looked back at the discarded fabric at your work station and decided that it was time to start the gown.

You turned on your ancient sewing machine and pulled out your mannequin to drape the fabric on. 

Five hours later you had finished a dark blue off shoulder, A-line evening dress. It was simple but chic. You wish you had a camera so you could take a photo of it but the sketch would do. Maybe you could ask the client to take a photo of it for you so you can save it to your portfolio. You yawned shaking your head, now you really needed to go to bed.

Taking off your jeans you slid into your comforter thinking about how your day played out, wondering what turn of events led you to meet Roger. Thinking about him made your heart squeeze and then you thought of the last thing he said to you was “Good night love.” and you shut your eyes and slept.

[quasieli]

top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me. 

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.  

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous. 

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation. 

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!  

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic. 

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year. 

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12). 

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better. 

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best. 

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her. 

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.  

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First! 

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.    

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience. 

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao. 

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare - Chapter 12

Here we go! Thank you, @lumosinlove for the SW-verse!

Chapter 12

Out of precaution, Regulus decided to sneak into Malfoy Manor through the kitchen window. He scoffed at the thought that everyone always assumed he was a model son. Sure, he kept his head down, all appearances and he was once very eager to please his parents but that didn't mean he hadn't a rebellious streak.

Sirius often got caught trying to sneak out the house... through the back door... too obvious. Idiot. But he learned over time. Regulus, on the other hand, learned to pick locks and sneak out of windows quiet early on. It was much stealthier and more unsuspected from the obedient, quiet kid.

Around 16, Regulus did this very often, trying to live a little under the thumb of his parents and while pretending not to. Sirius was bold, brave and often getting shit for it. Regulus was collected and sneaky. His escapades went unnoticed. It was all about the right balance. He asked to go out often enough to be considered normal. His parents said no more often than not and Regulus just had to ask for events he was not really interested in. When they said no, he would obediently stay at home and just sneak out to the stuff he actually wanted to go to. Unsuspecting.

He went to several high school parties and concerts, albeit hating crowds, because that was what teenagers did right? What they enjoyed. Regulus did not enjoy the drinking, the stuffed rooms and the gross drunk make-out sessions. Maybe he was born as snarky old man, always been more of a Waldorf, in need for his Statler.

Once in his room, Regulus showered, changed and was just in time for Lucius to take him to practice.

The mood in locker the locker room was disgustingly cheerful. Several Death eaters were reciting their favourite slurs against Sirius and all the “faggots”, how they called queers, in general, accompanied by hollering, whistling and applause.

Regulus thought of Sirius, of Ben and Mateo, how kind and loving they treated him, and it took all his badly patched up self-control to keep his expression blank and polite. This is not right.

He did not return to the shire this evening. Instead, he spent a long time running in the neighbourhood of the Malfoys, trying to sort through the last days.

When he collapsed exhausted into bed this evening, he came to the conclusion that there was actually no way he could get through the mess in his very own… The psychologist-thing was meant as a joke at Thanksgiving, Black…

                                                    oOo

The next evening, he nervously rang the bell besides the name tag Hayes/Alves, not knowing whether someone is even at home but he was let into the building and a moment later he found himself unable to knock on the door to their flat. These people owed him noting, why would they even let him in again after he practically stormed out yesterday?

The door was yanked open anyway and a relieved looking Mateo pulled him inside. “There you are, we were worried!”

“What? Why?”

“You were rather upset when you bolted yesterday” Jo provided from the kitchen, a spoon in her mouth and an almost empty can of ice cream in her hands.

“Hey, there you are!” Ben chimed happily, stepping out of the bathroom in his pyjamas and towelling his hair.

“Are you guys mad?” Regulus blurted suddenly, “You don’t know me, I stormed out yesterday after all you have done like an ungrateful asshole and you are actually happy that I'm back?”

“Sure.” All three answered as one, baffling him completely.

“Why?” He was almost desperate, “You have absolutely no gain from me being here... I am just a rookie so no one will buy my secrets from you, I am rather rich but you have nothing to properly blackmail me so what do you want?!”

“Are you serious?” Jo asked after a short silence.

“No, that’s my Brother, I am Regulus.” he answered absentmindedly. Ben and Mateo snorted but Jo just looked puzzled.

Regulus looked back, similarly puzzled. “Sirius Black, the famous, freshly outed, Captain of the Gryffindor Lions?”

Still nothing but a furrowed brow... “NHL?”

'Yeah, yeah, heard of it but hold on, your full name is Regulus, like your real name? And your brother is, in fact, named Sirius, that’s not a fake, too?”

“That is your Question? And no, its Sirius Orion and Regulus Arcturus Black, actually.” Jo anything but shrieked, joining the other two hobbits already shaking with mirth by now.  

“Ok, that’s - that’s just bad, I'm sorry” she wheezed after a few minutes.

“I always thought these were aliases… I see that I need to revaluate my bad-name categories.”

“Alors, I call you Josephine from now on?” Regulus was met with a surprisingly deathly glare that sent Ben and Mateo straight into another fit.

A grin started to tuck at the corner of Regulus’ lips but there were still pressing questions.

“Jo, you have no idea of the disaster that went on? You didn’t even check Twitter?”

“Nah, I don’t frequent social media. While I prefer to limit my direct interaction with other people, assholes accumulate there and throw all their bullshit around, guarded by the anonymity of the internet. I think a dentist appointment is less annoying.” The grin tucked again. This weird mixture of slang and hoity-toity wording was just gold.

“But you do watch ice hockey?” He was not sure why that was important for him. Maybe to find out, what she knew about him, maybe because to find out more about her.

“Sometimes yeah. For me you are Reg, the rather giant dude that slept on our couch, that prefers his tea bitter and gross and does not say thank you. The guy with the enjoyable dry humour and good taste in literature that luckily balances his abysmal taste in movies.”

At that Regulus laughed, too. He didn’t know, why exactly but he felt giddy with the idea that these were the first people who wouldn’t define him through hockey and his family.  That although they knew of his profession, here was just Reg, not Regulus Arcturus Black, Son of Orion Black, number 72 of the Snakes. Maybe I can have this, after all.

Is this, what Sirius had with his team, with Remus? Another pang of guilt let the laughter die in his throat, his eyes welled up. Not again…please.

But there was no time to recompose himself. Quickly, he was shoved onto the couch, wrapped in the chicken-blanket and surrounded by these idiots caring for him for some reason he still did not understand.

For the third time, his walls broke. Where there even walls by now? Regulus felt rather leaking with emotions.

But of course, he could not keep it in around them and spilled all his life to the three of them, not in as much detail he told Mateo in the hospital but also not keeping his role of Sirius’ outing to himself. Once all was out, there was a tense silence... of course there was, he just told the gay couple in front of him that he forced his brother out to be tormented by a crowd of imbecile haters on the internet.

Regulus was sure, his little excursion into a happy family ended now. Just as he guessed on the first evening here but instead of scolding and disapproving, cold glares he found himself hugged by Ben, again. He gives good hugs; his brain supplied uselessly.

“It’s a shitty move to out someone Reg, there is nothing to sugar coat.” Ben sighed.

“But what they did with that information and how the people online reacted is not your fault.”

Regulus said nothing, just closed his eyes and buried deeper in the shoulder of Ben, who practically sat on his lap to reach the height for such an embrace.

“But your feelings were hurt, too at that time and a lot of people used you. Fuck your family. You know what, I’m your mom now!”

Regulus just continued crying silently into Ben’s Shoulder, Mateo’s hand rubbing slowly over his back, chuckling at Ben’s statement.

“Mother hen.”

This showed what he had suspected for a while now, proof that his parents were not just a little strict. That something in his childhood went horribly wrong and he has no idea what to do with that information except crying it out.

When he calmed down a bit, Ben and Mateo got up to make some tea and finish dinner while quietly talking in Portuguese. So, it was something he was not meant to understand. His stomach knotted uncomfortably.

“Reg?” Jo tried quietly, she had not reacted in any way so far. He had even forgotten that she was still perched on the carpet beside him and somehow, he dreaded what was to come next.

“Hm?”

“Earlier, at the door, as you said that you do not know of what use you are for us as we cannot even blackmail you... you were not joking?” He shook his head, new tears threating to well up. How were there still tears left and what happened to his composure again?

“You really expected us to just care for you as long as we could gain profit?” There was no accusation in her voice just sadness and concern. He shrugged his shoulders; did he think that? No, but this was the only form of interaction he knew, everything always came with a price, an expectation.

The next thing he felt was Jo not practically but literally perched on his lap, straddling his hips, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her cheek against his temple. He knew already that, opposite to her brother, Jo was not the touchy feely type with strangers.

He was not considered a stranger anymore, after a day?

“I don’t know if there is anything one could say to make it better, so I will just keep my mouth shut and hug you until you believe that we like you and care for you. Just like that. As long as it will take.” She wiggled a bit to demonstrate getting comfortable.

There was nothing sexual about the embrace although they were pressed together from shoulders to hips und she just wiggled in his lap. It was completely opposite to the girls that approached him at the parties he sneaked out to. These were eyeing him hungrily, like a trophy. Some of them (very drunk, to their defence) even told him how similar he looked to Sirius… and how sexy they found his brother. He shivered a bit at the memory and gladly went back to reality.

“You might die of old age while waiting.” Regulus lifted his head to check the effect of his attempt in humour on her face but she just tucked his head back, giving a soft huff.

“Nah. 'M convincing but probably need to excuse myself to the bathroom or the fridge in between”

He closed his eyes again, wrapped his arms around her waist and relished in the hug without questioning why this hug felt different, more intimate than Ben’s or Mateo’s.

After an undefinable amount of time, the men came back with plates of Vegetable Quesadillas and Guacamole.

“Comfort Food, my avozinha’s recipe.”, Mateo commented

Instead of answering his question for cutlery, Ben met his eyes, pointedly grabbed a Quesadilla, dipped it in the guacamole and shoved the whole thing in his mouth without breaking eye contact.

Reg snorted with laughter.

                                                oOo

Of course, Ben spilled more than just a little on his shirt.

While Ben and Jo were cleaning the dishes and Ben, Mateo came over with a fresh cup of tea.

“Hey” Reg lifted his head. “I’m talking now as your fried -or co-mom, apparently- that just happens to also have studied medicine” he nodded for Mateo to continue.

“You went through a lot. Not just lately. And you struggle to cope.” Alors, the poker face seems to be gone…

“I do not say that you are weak, you are not! But you might want to consider the help of a therapist to sort through your feelings and your past. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of knowing your boundaries and taking care of yourself. I do not want to talk you into this, you need to want that for therapy to help. So, take you time to think about that, if you need. You can always come to us to talk but no one here is a therapist so we can only help you so far. OK? We are not disposing you to a shrink. Our door is open for you but you might want to have different type of help.”

Reg sat the in silence after this speech, hand running through his hair and rubbing his neck.

He had thought about that, more and more serious since Thanksgiving but hearing it and having the confirmation that he was welcome here …a thought formed in his brain, shortly followed by his usual determination.

"I want this to stop. I want to get better." He looked at Mateo and was met with his signature genuine, warm smile.

"You have a team therapist, don't you? It might be the fastest way to an appointment."

Reg grimaced at the thought of Dr. Slughorn. Generally well-meaning but when in doubt always humouring Riddle.

"I wouldn't trust him with taking the trash out." Regs grimace it met with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you want me to help you find someone else?" Mateo asked carefully and after a relieved nod from Reg, continued. "OK. Good, this is really good. Now for the next part."

Reg furrowed his brows

"Ben and I talked, and we want to offer you to stay here for a while after All Star, out of the clutches of your family. Of course, you have to go to practice and stuff but maybe it would be healthier for you to feel less controlled, less suffocated by them. We would find something else for you to sleep on than the couch, of course." Mateo joked.

Reg blinked at the guy in front of him in disbelieve.  Encore: What the hell? "You would do that? Let me stay?"

"Yep. We are your moms now, after all." Ben all but yelled over from the kitchen.

 This isn't a fever-trip. This is a dream, and I hope that I will not wake up too soon.

This night, he spent in Jos bed.  

"The couch is lumpy so we will share that bed. I'm not ruining my neck for you." Was her announcement before she marched off, Reg in tow.

He was led into the room, expecting a bedroom and was greeted with a little bureau.

"Erm..." Was all Reg could say.

"Well I only stay here during semester breaks so it's mor like a multi-purpose room." Jo seemed to miss the point entirely.

"But there is no bed?!"

She gave him an odd look and... folded a mattress out of the closet? "You've never seen a Murphy bed?"

"Obviously."

A little while later Reg squeezed himself beside Jo in the double bed. How does such a small person take up so much space?

“Won't it fold up in the night and swallow us whole?" The thought made him nervous, but he was greeted with the Hayes™ way of soothing. Bullying into feeling better.

“Not with your fat ass in here. Sleep or I send you back to the couch.”

They did not sleep for a long while.

Instead the talked a lot like on the first morning that felt like years ago although it has been just two days. In these days, his life was turned inside out, fortunately. He liked this version better.

The more they talked and bantered, the more Reg understood, that she really did not calculate her moves but just did what seemed the honest, right and fair choice… which is why she was horrible at the midnight chess match: Not thinking a few steps ahead and no intention of sacrificing figures or threatening enemy figures… irritating and endearing.

Also, she had quite a lot of very good burns but apologised every time afterwards. Hilarious... too nice for her devilish mind.

The next morning, he woke up around four, with Jo's back tucked against his side. He had slept about two hours, not able to sleep any longer anyway but he stayed in bed, secretly enjoying the feeling of a warm weight beside him.

Thoughts about his brother were still omnipresent in his mind but right now, other thinks demand his attention. Reg was pretty sure that he was falling for Jo.

He had had one or another crush in school but what he felt now was magnitudes stronger. Coming to think of it, his feelings about Ben and Mateo were also magnitudes stronger but... different. The idea of the girl he just met not being within an hour driving distance, once she returned to Boston, left a weight on his chest, accompanied by an unfamiliar longing.

But that was not the point... everything would be OK with that point. The point was, it's not the same as he heard all the other guys in school, in the locker room talk about girls… he didn't get off imagining her naked, or both of them having sex, he never thought that about anyone, actually, and was convinced the boys boasting about how they want to hit all these girls and how they got horny every time some girl with a too-short-to-be-comfortable skirt walk by, were just exaggerating… or were they not? Was there something he just didn't understand, hadn't experienced yet? It's not that he hadn't had sex before and it was nice enough, but he never quite understood why people would go absolutely nuts about this past-time exercise. It was basically wanking with extra steps.

Hell, Reg felt not even aroused by Jo's ass pressed to his thigh in her sleep but he was very sure that he wanted to hold her close, feel her skin under his hands, her body pressed to his, to kiss her and be definitely more than friends with her; And he had absolutely no idea how to explain this to her and still hope for a chance of dating her eventually... This was not what people were looking for in a partner, was it?

He groaned... was there nothing simple on this world for him?

But then again, Jo was different, that's why he liked her, she had this no-bullshit attitude that let her stomp on several feet regularly. She was the only person he knew that would most likely appreciate if he just spoke his mind about the situation and have a balanced, rational and decidedly calm discussion about their feelings. He silently laughed. The thought about such a conversation was ridiculous but fairly simple. Maybe this would be easier than he first thought. He was not sure on what terms they would end but the situation would be evaluated and free of misunderstandings at the end.

He would talk to her after All Star, after facing his brother and trying to... what?

                                                     oOo

Telling Lucius and Narcissa that he wanted to stay elsewhere for a few nights went smoother than expected. After a short call with his mother she agreed to give him a bit of freedom. After the outing, his parents seemed to be eager to keep Reg as the good son. So, Walburga was in kind of open for some little claims. Of course, she wanted to know where he was staying so he pretended to need alone-time after the shock of his brother's outing and booked a hotel room until All Star as cover. He was definitely not risking his Mother taking this very fragile attempt of escape away from him.

Reg quietly packed a bag with clothes to take with him directly from the airport after All Star and spent his waiting time at the airport on the phone with Mateo, looking for a therapist. He would meet Dr. Bones close to the Hospital, Mateo worked at, next Thursday.

The flight with Snape was horrible. Reg tried to keep his thought about Sirius at bay, not checking social media at all but Severus kept sneering about Queers in general and Sirius. He laid open all the information he could dig up out about Remus and even announced proudly, that he forwarded it all to the commentators of the red carpet

Oh… merde. C’est pourri! They are in for a shit-show.

But Reg would not have to opportunity to contact Sirius before that.