#WHERE ARE THEY WHERE ARE THEY WHERE ARE THEY WH

[aardvaark]

@vickyvicarious : #eliot would be so jealous of parker getting adopted by wolves it’s all he’s ever wanted

^ i love this tag bc it’s not what i originally thought or intended but it’s perfect. in my head it was like:

hardison: [jokingly, after the other two display some slight lack of manners] nana wouldn’t stand for that. it’s like you two were raised by wolves.

parker: i did spend a summer in a national park once…

[cut to a flashback of young parker sitting amidst a pack of wolves, nonchalantly placing some meat in front of a pup, and then petting it with a smile on her face]

[cut to eliot and hardison’s disturbed faces in the present]

eliot: parker, that’s insane.

hardison: i mean, yeah, im really concerned that-

eliot: wolves are dangerous wild animals. when *i* spent 5 months in the woods, i found out the hard way not to get too close to a wolf’s den.

[cut to flashback of eliot standing off against several wolves. he somehow manages to be so intimidating that *they’re* afraid of *him*, and eventually back off and leave him alone.]

[cut to present, where parker’s nodding and hardison looks even more horrified]

eliot: …so for future reference, i can teach you some techniques in case you encounter wolves or other large canines again.

hardison:

hardison: im never going camping with either of you. ever. okay? EVER. [walks away]

parker: [turning to eliot] he was willing to come camping with us before?

———

but now i’m thinking it went more like -

eliot: [trying not to look jealous] how come the wolves let you share their prey?

parker: MY prey.

eliot: wh-?

parker: i shared MY prey in exchange for hunting on their territory. i was 12, obviously i was fully capable of making a simple boar spear, eliot.

eliot: i- alright, im not even gonna touch that. but you’re a thief, wouldn’t you just rip off these wolf landlords of yours?

parker: you should never rip off a wolf, eliot. that’s very dangerous.

woke up in the middle of the night, wrote down this "great post" in my drafts, and went straight back to sleep:

extremely important. thank you for your input, half-asleep me.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

a love that makes sense

── bucky barnes x fem!reader (former avenger, currently part of the thunderbolts*)

word count: 3.7k

clearing up a few things timeline wise, to avoid confusion. infinity war happens in 2018, thunderbolts* in 2027. the events of the winter soldier happen in 2014 so when i eventually mention how long reader and bucky have known each other, its 13 years.

no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no physical descriptors other than reader being shorter than bucky (sebastian is 5’11 - 6’ so do with that what you will). powers are similar to that of wanda maximoff, but i don’t write about them in this part. hero name is Dark Surge (where wanda’s powers have a red energy, your color is black, hence the name). readers parents are both dead.

baby girl is back on the big screen and my writing gears are turning again. inspired by @aquaticmercy! their entire masterlist is stunningggggg, and brb im gonna go re-read right now. this is my take on the secret wife trope with thunderbolts* bucky, but someone on the team already knows 👀

*NOTE: benjamin poindexter is not bullseye in this. i just need a name that’s easy to associate being a piece of shit with hshxjsidnxfj

also i am a slut for a backstory, so sorry if you hate long pieces but get a snack and get comfortable

SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS* BELOW THE CUT!!!

Bucky hated the idea of a gala to introduce the (rich) world to the team.

To the new Avengers.

Valentina said it would be good for you to show face, that it would be the first planned public outing as a group.

Sam Wilson had made it known he didn’t like you all using the Avengers as your team name, what with him trying to sue for copyright, and Valentina was a little too quick to point out that now was the time for a united front. The public needed to see that not only were you heroes, but that you were also a real team.

None of you could see how dressing up and playing nice with the upper class would prove that, but you all discussed and decided it was better not to argue.

Yelena pointed out that the Thunderbolts, or Avengers, or whatever the team name was, basically owned Valentina. Bob was on your side again, and even Valentina knew that all it would take was one of you going to the press to expose her.

But it was Alexei who said Valentina was right. The world knew who you all were as individuals, but they’d yet to see you as a team in a somewhat normal setting.

You suspected he just wanted a chance to dress up and have people admire him, but kept quiet about that.

But back to why Bucky hated the gala.

It wasn’t for him. It was true, he didn’t like the idea of having to put on a show, even though he was used to it since becoming a congressman. And he hated that he could hear the whispers of the general public, who often referred to him as the Winter Soldier behind his back.

No, he hated this for you.

Of everyone on the new team, you were the only one of the original Avengers. You’d joined shortly before Loki and the whole attack on New York, having been recruited by Steve.

And as the only original Avenger, people tended to pay extra attention to you. He knew without a doubt, you’d be smiling for more photos and answering more questions than any of them.

You loved what you did, that you got to help people. But you didn’t like how public it all was. You missed when you were an unknown vigilante working (mostly) alongside the law. When you took on smaller problems like robberies or attempted shootings. Because no one knew who you were back then, you weren’t often praised. And that was exactly how you wished it could’ve stayed.

What Bucky hated most, was how he wouldn’t be able to comfort you tonight.

He’s known he loves you since before he could even remember what love was. You tracked him down to his tiny apartment in Romania, but didn’t tell Steve right away. You gave him 6 additional months of peace, while slowly inserting yourself into his life.

And while his memory was foggy, he wasn’t stupid. He knew who you were when you approached him at that outdoor market he used to frequent, but he believed you when you said you had no intention of alerting Steve, yet. That you needed some peace and quiet too.

The first time you helped him through a nightmare, and held him as he sobbed and said he wanted the pain to end, that was it for him. When he woke up the next morning to see you curled up next to him, your hand on his chest as if you needed the reassurance his heart was beating, he knew he didn’t ever want a life without you.

And when you finally opened your eyes and smiled at him, for a brief moment it felt like all was right in the world. You seemed to know how he felt, because you simply moved closer and spoke softly as you told him everything was going to be okay, and that the 2 of you didn’t have to discuss feelings, but you felt the same way.

With all that went down once you finally did have to tell Steve where Bucky was, and all that happened after, your relationship was obviously kept a secret from, well, everyone.

Eventually the 2 of you felt comfortable enough to tell Steve, who smiled as if he already knew. And you then confessed that Nat knew, and had known for a long time because you needed someone outside of the relationship to talk to.

As time went on, the rest of the team each found out in their own way.

Tony found out when he overheard you talking to Nat about how you were terrified to tell him about you and Bucky. Tony was the closest thing you had to a dad, and you didn’t think you could handle him being disappointed in you.

Thankfully, he and Bucky had long ago sorted everything out, and he told you that he overheard you, but you had nothing to worry about. If you were happy, so was he.

Clint found out at the same time as Thor and Bruce, when the 3 of them had taken the elevator up to your floor of the tower to ask about an upcoming mission. They froze as soon as they got off of the elevator, and were met with the sight of you fast asleep, your head on Bucky’s chest as he lazily scrolled to find something good to watch. By then he was genuinely friends with everyone on the team, so he didn’t have much of a reaction to them.

But he sighed, knowing you wanted to tell them yourself. You’d just gotten back from a solo mission though, and were more tired than he’d seen you in a long time. So he simply looked at them and mouthed if you wake her, I will kill you.

All you had to do was mention to everyone that you both wanted to keep the relationship out of the public, and that was it. You trusted them, and knew nobody would ever say anything.

That was a long time ago, though. You didn’t know most of your teammates that well.

You were still on the fence about John. With the recent string of events that had taken place, he’d proven himself to be a good teammate and valuable asset to the team. And knowing what he saw in the void, you felt bad.

But that still didn’t erase the things he’d done in the past. You remembered all too well, what happened when you were working with Bucky and Sam and the wannabe Captain America showed up.

As for the other members of the team, well all except 1, they were nice enough, but you weren’t close enough with them (yet) for you and Bucky to feel comfortable revealing your relationship.

It wasn’t unusual to everyone else that the 2 of you spent more time with each other than any of them, after all you’d known each other longer. But you were worried that one day, someone would catch on before you had a chance to tell them yourself.

Which was how you found yourself in this unfortunate position, wandering around the massive room Valentina rented for the night. She instructed everyone on the team to go off on their own, mingle with the people. And do not stick together like a pack of wild animals being cornered.

Of course, it wasn’t lost Bucky that if your relationship was public, he could ignore her suggestions and just walk around with you, arm in arm. He could pull you in for a kiss, maybe even ask you to dance if these fancy galas did that sort of thing.

And it wasn’t lost on you that if people knew the 2 of you were together, you could comfort Bucky. Like right now, you can tell by the way he’s walking around with his metal hand in his pants pocket and his right hand holding a glass of champagne, the way he keeps looking around as if a threat is close by, that he’s anxious. And anxious probably isn’t even a strong enough word, because you know he hates these public events as much as you do.

“You always come to these things alone?”

You had enhanced hearing, but still felt like you were going to have a heart attack at the sound of an unexpected voice. How had someone managed to sneak up on you? You really had to work on not zoning out in public.

“Pardon?” Not wanting to seem rude, you put on a smile and turned to face the man on your left.

He was tall, and not bad looking. But something about the way he smirked at you put you on edge. He stared as if you were a prize to be won, or he needed time in the spotlight so he spoke to you, hoping one of the few invited members of the press would soon walk by.

“I just asked if you always come to Valentina’s galas by yourself.”

You hoped you didn’t sound as annoyed as you felt.

“Well this is the first event being thrown by Valentina, so no. It’s been a few years since the Avengers have thrown a gala. And even then, Tony only invited respected individuals that we worked with closely.”

The man scoffed. “Right. Guess my invites always got lost in the mail.”

“Guess so,” you shrugged.

“Now that I’m here though, I can keep you company.”

This guy needs to work on his subtlety, you thought to yourself.

You briefly surveyed the room, and found that Bucky’s eyes were already on you. You suspected that he’d been watching since the man first approached you.

You okay? He mouthed. You gave a slight nod, and he turned back to the person he was speaking with, though you knew he’d look back at you once you looked away.

“I’m actually meant to mingle with everyone, but I appreciate the offer…”

“Benjamin Poindexter,” he held his hand out. You hoped your smile was convincing as you shook his hand. He held on just a little too tight, for a little too long.

Before you could step back, you and Benjamin were both startled as a hand not at all gently gave him a pat on the shoulder. You looked to see Alexei, and were never more relieved to see him than you were in that moment.

“How are we doing this evening, huh?”

Benjamin opened his mouth to answer, but Alexei had already put his arm around you and had begun leading you in another direction. Almost as an afterthought, he turned back around.

“Sorry I need her for official superhero business, you understand.”

Only when you were nearly across the room, did Alexei finally stop walking. “Should I kill him?”

You laughed, but had to stifle it when you saw his completely serious facial expression.

“I— no. Hey look at me, no killing him, right?”

“Maybe I just accidentally—”

“No. I really appreciate you saving the day, but I think he was just a weird fan who managed to sneak his way in. Promise me he’ll leave here alive.”

“Oh okay okay, I get you. I wait until he leaves and then—”

“Alexei!”

Yelena approaches, having heard the tail end of your conversation.

“Trust me, I wish I could kill men simply for being creepy as well. But the public won’t love Red Guardian so much for killing a man out in public just for being a creep.” She turned and whispered in your ear, “he won’t be able make it l look like an accident. But I can. We’ll talk later.”

🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋

What feels like a lifetime later, but is really maybe an hour, you’re all seated at dinner. And of course in another effort to whore you all out to the public make people think the Avengers were just like everyone else, the entire team were sat at different tables.

“Well well well, guess it’s my lucky night.”

Oh fuck me, you thought as Benjamin took the seat next to you. How had you not noticed his name on the place cards?

“Hello,” you gave him a nod and tight lipped smile, before turning to survey the room once again.

Alexei held up a steak knife and motioned to Benjamin when he wasn’t looking. When you shook your head, he sighed and resumed conversation with the man he’d been talking to.

You were sad that Bucky was on the other side of the room, so you wouldn’t be able to see him after this long and boring dinner was over.

Ava and Alexei were the only ones who lucked out with table mates.

You turned to your right and saw John sat between 2 men who both seemed to be vying for his attention. He caught your eye, and you laughed and mouthed having fun?, and had to force yourself to not laugh when he slowly raised his hand to flip you off.

Yelena was a few tables away, resisting the urge to grab her steak knife and shove it in the throat of the man speaking to her. He clearly just loved the sound of his own voice, and she hadn’t even gotten a word in. The topic? Himself, of course. And how he could’ve been a hero too if life had dealt him better cards.

Bob was the only one who’d been excused from tonight. Understandably, as he was still recovering from recent events.

Earlier you offered to stay back and hang out with him. The rest of the team agreed that might be a good idea, until Valentina swooped in and immediately said no. That everyone would be wondering where the only original Avenger on the team was.

“So being an Avenger and all that, do you have a lot of free time?” Benjamin asked.

“Umm no, not really. Between missions and writing the reports and training, I don’t have a lot of time for myself.”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping to take you out some time,” he put an arm around your chair while also scooting his closer.

That’s when you finally stood up. “I’m not dating anymore, but again I appreciate the offer. If you’ll excuse me.” You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before you started to walk away.

Valentina unintentionally saved the day, calling you over to talk to a mayor of some city a few states away. Why he was at this dinner, you had no idea. But after only a minute of conversation, you could tell he was genuinely a nice guy, so this was already a lot better than talking to Benjamin.

After everyone finished eating, the team mingled with guests for another hour before things finally started to wind down. Half an hour after that, and only a handful of people remained.

“Ready to head home? I’m exhausted,” Ava was the last of the group to approach the table you’d all gathered at.

“Yeah,” you looked around the table, “shit. I think I left my phone in the bathroom. I’ll meet you guys at the car.”

Everyone slowly stood up and gathered their things, but Bucky lingered near you. “I can wait for you,” he offered.

You could see he was just as mentally exhausted as you were, maybe even a little more. “It’s okay, I’ll meet you at the car in a minute, I think my phones on the counter by the sinks.”

After double checking, he nodded and turned around to look at the team. They were all talking amongst themselves as they headed to the doors, so Bucky took the opportunity to take your hand in his. “You did good tonight doll, proud of you.”

“Right back at ya’ Sarge,” you smiled.

You held hands a few seconds more, before expertly letting go and making it seem as if you just walked side-by-side. Unbeknownst to each other, you were both thinking that you couldn’t wait until the day came where you didn’t have to do that.

Once exiting the ballroom / banquet room, Bucky turned left and made his way to the exits, while you went right and headed for the restroom.

When you saw your phone sitting exactly where you thought it’d be, you felt relief. As you walked back out, you scrolled through your missed messages and calls, not looking up from your phone.

“There you are.”

You’d later swear your heart stopped when you heard Benjamin’s voice again. And you mentally cursed yourself for not paying attention to your surroundings. This was now 3 times the same man managed to sneak up on you.

“Hi,” you quickly nodded before taking a step towards the doors.

“Not so fast,” his hand reached out to grab your arm, and he wasn’t at all gentle.

You sighed as you tried to remove your arm from his grip, but fear quickly replaced annoyance when you realized he was stronger than he looked. And when he looked up, gone was that smug smile. Now he only looked angry.

“All night you’ve been such a fucking bitch to me, and for what?”

“Let go of me. You clearly know who I am, so you know what my powers are. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He laughed, then leaned down so his face was only inches from yours.

“You think you’re too good for me, because you’re an Avenger and I’m not? I could’ve been a hero too, you know.” He laughed, although there was no humor behind it. His grip on your wrist tightened as he gave you that sick smile. “I can—”

You didn’t get to find out what it was he could do, before a hand reached from behind you and wrapped around Benjamin’s throat. In seconds, he was pinned against the wall.

And even if the hand around Benjamin’s throat wasn’t metal, you still would’ve known who it was that was behind you.

“James,” you turned around and smiled. “I could’ve handled him.”

“Oh I know you could’ve,” he tightened his grip as Benjamin tried to speak and continued to try and remove Bucky’s hand. “You could’ve kicked his ass, but you shouldn’t have to.”

By then, the rest of the team had all come back into the room. Benjamin looked to them as if to silently ask for help, but suddenly they were all preoccupied with the floors and ceilings. Alexei even went so far as to whistle and brush invisible crumbs off of his suit jacket.

Bucky shook his head as he finally dropped his left hand, allowing Benjamin to breathe properly for the first time in a couple of minutes. Any relief he felt was short lived though, because Bucky almost immediately used his right hand to slam him back against the wall.

“You’ve been bothering her all night. And I know exactly who you are. Dishonorable discharge from the Army for sexual misconduct against female superiors. Looked into you after you bothered her the first time. And she,” he nodded towards you while never taking his eyes off of Benjamin. “Has been too polite to tell you to fuck off, but I’m not. If you so much as breathe in my wife’s direction again, it’ll be the last breath you ever take. And if you tell anyone about what’s going on right now, I can promise you that you’ll only wish you were dead.”

With that, he let go, and Benjamin fell to the ground as he tried to catch his breath. He got up after a moment, a hand on his neck as he scrambled for the doors.

“You’re all fucking psychopaths!” He yelled. Yelena took a step towards him, causing Benjamin to yank the doors open, probably running faster than he had in his entire life.

“You okay doll? I knew something was off when you were gone longer than a minute. I meant what I said, I know you could’ve handled it, I just—”

“It’s okay,” you placed your right hand in Bucky’s left. “I kinda like when you come to my rescue.”

You took a deep breath before turning to face the team, all staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths. “I know you have questions, and I promise we’ll answer them all… eventually. Let’s just get home first.”

Alexei immediately opens his mouth. “So you two—”

He was stopped by Yelena, who grabbed his arm and began walking towards the car. “Chop chop let’s go people I have a lot of questions.”

Only a few minutes later, you all finally slumped back in your seats.

“Former Winter Soldier and vigilante both turned Avenger, meet and fall in love. Beautiful!” Alexei grins, giving you a thumbs up in the rear view mirror.

Bucky takes your hand in his, apologizing once again for letting the cat out of the bag.

“Seriously though,” Ava leans forward in her seat. “Does no one know about you two?”

You shrug, “the… original Avengers, is that what we call them? Anyway, they all found out a long time ago. Natasha was actually the first one I told.”

Hearing that you confided in her sister brings a smile to Yelena’s face.

The rest of the ride to the tower is silent. And you end up falling asleep leaning on Bucky’s arm. At one point, he turns and places a soft kiss on your head. The team all turn to look at each other, as if silently asking if they were really all that blind. How had they missed this??

You wake up just as Alexei not so delicately comes to a stop as he waits for the gate to the parking structure to open.

“At least I can finally do this now,” Bucky smiles as he walks next to you, slipping his hand into yours as you head into the tower.

When you all walk into the downstairs lobby area, Bob is there.

“Saw you guys pull in on the cameras. Figured I’d wait to see how the night went.” He looks at you and Bucky holding hands, and smiles. “Oh you guys finally told them!”

All eyes are on you again.

“What the fuck!”

“Wait BOB knew?!”

You and Bucky turn to look at each other. “This is gonna be a looong night.”

why this is called “a love that makes sense” is coming in part 2!

TAG LIST FOR PART 2 ── 2 of 50 spots taken. if you’d like to be added, let me know!!

@rafesgurl | @julesandgems

[magicaloneandmystery]

freebies aren't allowed

pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

summary: pretty little thing that you are, Bucky still can't allow his debts to go unpaid. you need to find a way to pay the mobster back by midnight.

warnings: mdni. noncon/dub con elements (dead dove, do not eat.), verbal degradation and humiliation (slut, whore), mentions of drug, slight allusions to prostitution, oral (m receiving), allusions to kidnapping, please let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this is my first time diving into both mob au (altho I loooove reading them so send in any recs you might have!) and darker themes of noncon. I hope I do it justice. this is my submission for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Mini Bingo Mafia AU event. the square being fulfilled is "A Debt You Can't Pay"

this is purely fictional.

"welcome back, sweet girl," his' low timbre greeted you. he was in his typical attire: a dark coat, white shirt, top button undone, with a whiskey glass in his hand, and intense blue eyes staring right through you.

"Bucky-"

"James. I'm Bucky only to my close friends. the last time we talked, we were strictly business partners, remember?"

"James," you breathed, heart beating faster. "I- I need some more time to return your money."

silence followed your admission.

"and why is that?"

"I- I've just not been making enough at the club," you started to plead. "I promise I'll have it here by next week. I promise. I just need a little more time."

he sat back in his armchair, looking you up and down. "you know I never loan drugs to whores like you?" you stayed silent, not knowing where he was going with this. "there was something about you, though. you're sweeter than those other sluts out there. those bitches you work with. aren't you?"

your eyes fell to the ground, a weak nod affirming his words.

"are you?" he growled, making you shake. "you take my drugs, snort them up, and then refuse to pay me back? do you know who I am, whore? do you think I built this empire by loaning to coke addicts like you?"

"Bu- James. I'll have your money, I promise."

"I don't give a fuck," he said. "you're going to pay me tonight one way or another. come here." he patted his knees.

your eyes widened, a gasp leaving your lips. "wh- what?"

"do I need to repeat myself?" he quirked an eyebrow.

you shook your head, not wanting to infuriate him further. you timidly walked over to him, your heels clacking on the tiled floor of his office. he grabbed your arm the moment you were close enough, pulling you down near his legs, your knees colliding with the floor, making you wince.

"relax, this ain't the first time you're gonna suck some cock for some money and coke, is it?" he snarled. "you knew exactly what you were doing, coming here in that skimpy little dress, begging to be fucked. you know one way or another I would've fucked you today. you just gave me a good enough reason."

your blood turned into ice, your body freezing up. "you- you can't."

he chuckled, gripping your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him. "watch me, slut." he sat back again. "let's see if you're any worth. and remember, if I don't like your mouth or pussy or ass, you'll be in my debt for as long as I say before you learn to be good for me."

you looked up at him, tears filling your eyes.

"what are you waiting for?"

with shaky hands, you opened his belt and slacks, expensive fabric giving way to his boxers. you pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock. you pumped it timidly, still coming to terms with how your night is turning out to be.

"you can do better than that, whore. ." he said, almost a bored expression twinging his eyes. "show me what you're worth. do you even want to repay me?"

you spit on your right hand, pumping his shaft, your right hand fondling his balls. licking the tip of his cock, you were relieved to feel the salty precum on your tongue. that meant he was enjoying.

the sooner you could make him cum, the sooner this will all be over.

with this new determination, you took his girthy length inside your mouth, slowly inching him inside, your throat aching to accommodate his full length.

"is this all you're good for? this what they pay you for?" his hands cupped your scalp, grasping at the roots of your hair before he pushed you down on his full length. you gagged. "that's more like it," he groaned. "stupid slut, I need to do all the work?"

with that, he started fucking your face. you choked and gagged, tears and spit sliding down your face and chin, unable to stop his brutal pace. your throat and head hurt, his hands unrelenting in your hair. his little grunts were the only indication that he was enjoying brutalising you like this, his other hand holding the glass in his hand.

after a few minutes of this, he pushed you down on his cock again, your nose touching his crotch. he let out a long noan, his thighs tightening and cock pulsing in your mouth before he shot loads of cum down your throat. he didn't let you go until the last drop had left his cock.

when he finally released his grip, you immediately picked up your head. before you could do anything else, however, he took your face in his hand again, opening your mouth.

"swallow." he looked at your panting face. you obeyed, gulping down his cum. "there's the whore I knew you were. no matter how sweet you all look, sluts like you are good for nothing but warming my cock."

"is- is it done?" you gulped some air back to your lungs, sitting up straighter, looking up at him. "is my debt repaid?*

he laughed and a shiver ran down your spine at the darkness behind the sound.

"you think a bad blowjob is enough to pay me back? no, you're coming home with me." he smirked.

"what?"

"I'm going to tie you up in my basement and get back every penny I'm owed from you. we're gonna have so much fun."

well, I hope I did this justice. lmk what you think! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

[moonrisecherub]

black honey | emily prentiss x reader

summary: after a small slip-up, the team finds out about your and emily's relationship.

tags: fluff, fem!bau!reader x section chief!emily, kissing, relationship reveal, boss/employee relationship, reader wears lipstick, no use of y/n, second person

word count: ~900

a/n: regular text size and capitalization under the cut. set during evolution, but no spoilers, really! also, let's pretend hr isn't a thing!!

cross-posted on ao3

It was a slow, paperwork-filled day at the BAU. The team had just wrapped up an out-of-state case, and you were honestly thankful for the monotony of the day so far. You ached, however, to see your girlfriend.

Sure, the two of you had been working alongside each other for basically the whole case, but you barely got any alone time.

You ruminated on the thought for a bit, reapplying your lipstick mindlessly, but soon pushed the thought aside. You went back to scribbling away in your file, when your phone chimed suddenly.

Emily: Come see me.

She must have read your mind.

You looked up, seeing her office door ajar, and made your way up after closing the file.

When you entered, she was at her desk, typing on her laptop. You took a moment to admire her, the light from the window illuminating those features you loved so much.

“Am I in trouble, boss?” You joked after closing the door. She looked up from her laptop, closing it, and pushing her chair back. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she stood up, making her way to the front of her desk.

Leaning against the desk in that way that always makes you swoon, Emily motioned for you to come over. When you were close enough, she took your hand in hers. She brought it up to her lips, kissing gently at your skin.

Remembering where you were, your eyes darted to the windows overlooking the bullpen, only to see that the blinds were closed.

Oh.

She had a plan.

“I missed you,” she said, a small twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Me too, Em.”

Her hands fell to your waist, and she pulled you closer. “So, do something about it.”

With that, you closed the gap between the two of you. You captured her lips, and she immediately returned the kiss with a surprising fervour. You let yourselves get lost in it, tongues dancing together slowly. You let your hands wander upwards, entwining them in her silver locks.

You let out a small whimper, causing Emily to pull back reluctantly. You looked at her, all wide eyes and pouty lips.

“None of that, sweetheart,” she replied to your little display, “I just don’t want to get too carried away, is all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Says the person who started it.”

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. The two of you separated quickly before she called for them to come in.

“Hey, guys,” JJ said from the doorway, “we’ve got a case.”

“We’ll be right there,” Emily replied.

Thankfully, JJ didn’t seem to pick up on anything, and she left with a nod. You went to follow her when Emily grabbed your wrist, turning you around.

“I’m not done with you,” she whispered, causing a chill to run up your spine.

Like nothing had happened, she exited the office, leaving you flustered at her words.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

When you entered the briefing room, Emily was already seated at the round table, chatting quietly with JJ. You took your seat next to her, purposely avoiding her gaze so as not to let that all too familiar heat creep up your cheeks. Tara and Luke greeted you quickly before returning to their own conversation.

Not too long after, Garcia entered, coffee in hand. As she made her way up to the front of the room to get set up, she stopped for a moment.

She cocked her head to the side. “Emily, I like your lipstick!”

You froze. Your lipstick.

“Wh—” Emily started, Penelope interrupting her.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick,” she said, “is it new? It looks like that Clinique one…Black Honey! Is that what you’re wearing?”

Before Emily could answer, Garcia continued, “Huh, that’s what you usually wear,” she remarked, her focus now shifting to you. You could see the gears turning behind her eyes. Tara and JJ were both holding back smiles, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Emily.

“Oh, my god!” Penelope all but shrieked. “You two?!”

You finally looked at Emily, whose eyes were already on you. Cat’s out of the bag, her expression read. You let your head fall to your hands with a sigh, knowing what was coming, and Emily placed her hand on your back gently.

“When? How long? How?!” Garcia questioned.

“Am I missing something?” Luke chimed in.

Garcia spun to him. “Missing something? They’re dating!”

At that moment, Rossi walked in. “Who’s—” he started, but then he saw Emily rubbing your back, “—oh.” He smiled, taking a seat.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She accused Rossi.

He shook his head, holding up his hands. “Not at all,” he said, “but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

You swear you could sense him winking at the two of you, but you didn’t dare look up.

“Well, I am! What—?” Before Garcia could continue her—very enthusiastic—interrogation, JJ stopped her.

“I think you’re scaring her, Penelope,” JJ warned, trying not to laugh at the situation.

“Okay, okay,” she rescinded.

You finally looked up, immediately regretting your decision as you locked eyes with your colleague.

“You guys have to tell me everything later,” she said quickly, “and I mean everything.”

You looked around the room, expecting someone to come to your defence. You were met, however, with some not-so-apologetic looks and a few shoulder shrugs. You shook your head, looking over to an unphased Emily.

“They were gonna find out some time, babe” she offered, patting you gently on the back.

You were never going to hear the end of this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Epel Felmier - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Interior Hallway]

Epel: I came to Ortho-kun's classroom, but I must've just missed him. Oh well, I'll try again after school…

Epel: Hm…? Is that Idia-san over there? Oh, this is good, I can thank him in person, then.

Epel: Idia-san! Here's the DVD I was borrowing. Thank you for letting me watch it!

Idia: Eep! …E-E-E-E-E-Epel-shi!? Wh-Wh-Why'd you pop outta nowhere…?

Idia: I-I don't remember you borrowing anything… Wait, is that the "Tales of the Great Seven Animated" DVD?

Idia: Oh, so you're the friend Ortho said he wanted to lend that to…

Epel: I watched this DVD to prep for the quiz I had, so I don't need to take supplementary classes after school tomorrow.

Epel: Tomorrow's my birthday, and the Spelldrive Club's havin' a barbeque… That's why I really wanted to make sure I got a good score on the quiz.

Idia: B-B-Barbeque!? Like, as in BBQ!? Why would you torture yourself like that on your birthday…!?

Epel: Eh, what's with that reaction!? I'm really looking forward to the barbeque!!

Idia: Wh-What's there to look forward to? It's just a get-together where people grill meat and snap pics all loudly…?

Idia: B-Besides, you're in Pomefiore, right, Epel-shi? Smoke and oil's against your guyses policy, isn't it?

Epel: And that's why I want to eat meat somewhere where Vil-san won't see… Wait, no, I mean―

Epel: I'm just excited to be able to spend a great time with my clubmates… I guess?

Idia: Urgh, the delicate pretty-boy looking chara just spouted something a protag would say! …Yeaaah, I'm gonna log off from this convo now.

[Idia runs away]

Epel: Oh, he left… Looks like I was able to get away with it… I hope?

[Pomefiore Dorm – Hallway]

Epel: Whew, today's practice was pretty hardcore. But I feel like all the stuff I gotta do after I get back to the dorm is even harder…

[Pomefiore upperclassman speaks]

Epel: Oh… H-Hello. Did you need me for something? Eh? You want me to bring my cosmetics for some makeup application practice…?

Epel: Ah, thank you for inviting me. Just… Well… I'll have to pass this time.

Epel: I have something to do tonight… Yes. Yes, that's right. Thank you for the invite.

Epel: …I swear I just heard 'em say "He's probably off to do embroidery or bake some sweets." No way in hell.

Epel: Right, time to head to my room… Hm? What's going on? Everyone's suddenly fixing their hair and clothes.

Epel: ACK!! Vil-san's walking this way! I gotta hurry and smooth out my clothes and stand up straight…

Epel: He's glarin' so hard… Urgh… I can't even relax in my own dorm…!

[Pomefiore Dorm – Epel's Room]

Epel: I'm starting to get hungry after that shower. I ate a proper dinner and everything, though.

Epel: I'll just finish up my homework, first. …Especially so I can get to the "fun" later.

[Pomefiore Dorm – Epel's Room]

Epel: Whew… Guess this should be enough homework for tonight. Maan, I'm tired.

[Roommate A speaks]

Epel: …Hm? What's up? Huh? A survey!?

Epel: Shoot, I'd completely forgotten… Uh, I mean… I was totally thinking I would do it later, yeah.

Epel: What kind of improvements do I want…? I don't think I really have any. Really, I'm not being modest, hahaha…

[Roommate B speaks]

Epel: …Eh, my cardigan looks good on me? Thanks! My Mee… I mean, My grandmother knitted it herself.

Epel: Ehehe. It makes me glad to hear you like it… Huh? It's perfectly cute like me?

[Roommate B speaks]

Epel: Urgh… Ah, no, I'm not in a bad mood, or anything. Anyway, thank you.

Epel: Oookay then, guess I'll head to sleep. …Yeah, that's right, I gotta get my beauty sleep for my skin!

[Roommates speak]

Epel: Hehe, you guys are gonna go to bed too, right? Then, I'll turn off the lights. Goodnight.

Epel: ….Did they all finally fall asleep? Alllright, now it's me-time!

Epel: I've been looking forward like crazy to watching the newest episode of "A Villain's Oath 2" released today!

Epel: Where's the soda and chips I hid under my bed…? Ah, here it is. Alright then, time to start!

Epel: Finally it's time to see those two fated foes battle each other…! I wonder who's gonna win? Ooh, they're both at the ready…!

Epel: Weeeew! This is awesome! I love watching them tough guys clash! So cool!

[crunch, munch]

Epel: Woah. These barbeque flavored chips really hit the spot!!

[chug, slurp]

Epel: Whoooooh! Ain't nothin' like washin' everything down with some snacks and soda!

Epel: Maaan, it's 'cause I got this time at night to myself that I can kinda deal with living in hoity-toity Pomefiore.

Epel: There's people watchin' everywhere, even in the cafeteria, so's I can only be eatin' borin' tasteless things all day.

Epel: Nuts, dried fruits, and leafy greens! Who cares 'bout dem healthy salads, that's just rabbit food!

Epel: Not only'd I gotta watch my words, but I gotta live with a buncha others…

Epel: It'd be great if I had more free time than just at night like this… Oh yeah, I should answer that survey!

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Epel: There's waaaaaay too many things I wanna see improved, geez. But the number one thing is… "GIVE FIRST YEARS OUR OWN ROOM TOO"!!

Epel: I can't be myself in a 4 person room. It's way too unfair that the juniors get a room all to themselves, there's only a two-year difference between us.

Epel: I mean, I guess I could have a room all to myself if I were to become Housewarden…

Epel: Dun think I'ma git anywhere if'n I hafta go up 'gainst Vil-san. I just gotta keep tryin' ta git better.

Epel: Once I get my own room, I'm going to do what I want, when I want!

Epel: I'll wear leather jackets and weathered jeans, get a rug with a huge dragon on it…

Epel: I'll get Blastcycle magazines and the whole "A Villain's Oath" series on DVD onto my bookshelf! Hehe, I can't wait…!

[Pomefiore Dorm – Epel's Room]

[rustle, rustle]

Epel: …Gah! Hrrrnnngh… Is it morning?

[Roommate C chatters]

Epel: My roommates are all up and stretching again… They're so noisy every morning. I just wanna sleep some more…

Epel: It’s still early, so I'm gonna go back��� to sleep… Zzz… Zzz…

[Roommate A speaks]

Epel: Waah!? Wh-What…? Huh? Shouldn't I stretch too?

Epel: It's fine, I don't have morning practice today, so I want to sleep as long as I can… Don't worry… Seriously, it's okay…!

Epel: …Geez, stop it already!

Epel: AH'M STILL WANTIN' TA SNOOZE MORE!

Epel: …AH!!

Epel: That just slipped out 'cause I was still groggy… Uhhm…

Epel: Good morning, everyone. You're all so early today. …Huh? What's wrong? Why are you all looking so tense?

[Roommate A speaks]

Epel: What did I say just now…? Oh, that was just a morning greeting. I was just saying "Good morning"! Ehehe! Ohoho!

[Roommate B speaks]

Epel: I was shouting…? Y-You must've just imagined it! Come on, let's all go to the washroom. I'm sure once we've all washed our faces, everything will be a lot clearer. Okay?

[Pomefiore Dorm – Washroom]

[splash, splash]

Epel: Whew, it feels great to wash your face, doesn't it? How do you all feel? …You feel like what you heard earlier was all in your head?

Epel: Heh, yeah, you must've been still waking up. …Nice. Looks like I got away with it.

Epel: Okay then, I'm heading back to the room… Eh, what about my skincare routine? Ohhh, right. Yeah, I'll do it now.

Epel: First I'll put on some skin lotion, then… Wait. Which am I supposed to put on first, the beauty cream or the milky stuff?

Epel: I don't even know what these are for in the first place… This is too much of a pain to think about, so I'll just mix 'em up and throw 'em on.

[Roommate A speaks]

Epel: Huh? Wait, it's not like that's my secret method for applying makeup or anyth… They're not listening to me at all. Everyone's mixing everything together and applying it.

Epel: I never did any of this skincare stuff back home, so… Eh, I guess I don't need to tell them

Epel: I'll just put on sunscreen and brush my hair… Great, I'm done!

[Roommate B speaks]

Epel: Eh, what? …You want me to tell you what brand lipstick I'm using?

Epel: I'm not using anything. Eh? Y-Yeah. …What do I do to stay moisturized?

Epel: Could it be all the snacks I eat late at night…? Nah, no way. I don't really do anything special, I think?

Epel: Blush? I don't use that either. …Eyelash curler and mascara? Nope, I'm not using that.

[Roommates chatter]

Epel: You're curious to know what sort of secret beautifying trick you could use to look more like me? Uhhhhh, even if you ask me that, I don't… Oh, yeah!

Epel: Sunscreen! I've been making sure to at least apply sunscreen everyday. Maybe that's the secret?

Epel: …What's wrong? Why're you all staring at me like that? Did I say something weird?

Epel: …Eh, are you crying!? What's wrong with you guys!?

[Main Street]

Epel: In the end, I never learned why they were all crying. …Oh hey, Idia-san. Good morning!

Idia: Eep… Epel-shi! You're seriously on rate up the past two days.

Idia: G-G-G-Go on, after you… Don't mind me, just go enjoy your birthday, little protag. Bye, then.

[Idia runs away]

Epel: Th-Thank you! Woah, he took off like a dart… I hope he heard me thanking him.

Epel: Heheh, I kinda liked getting a birthday wish from someone unexpected. I'm definitely gonna have a blast today!

Requested by Anonymous.

[sinful-lanterns]

CW: Riding, strap on usage, mating press, clit pinching, degrading language used, Reader is a pillow princess in denial

Imagine trying to ride Korryn but you go too slow, so she gets impatient and flips you over, fucking you with her strap at her own pace. She’s fast and hard, relentlessly pummeling into you and spearing you open, licking her lips at the sight of your legs folded and spread over her shoulders like the perfect breeding bitch.

“Korryn I wanted to ride you…!” You whine, choking on a moan when she grinds the fat tip even deeper. She grunts with each pathetic plea that falls from your lips, the idea of her sweet princess trying to take control during sex just unfathomable in her mind. “You go too slow, baby. Let me fuck ya properly, you’ll lose stamina if I let ya do it on your own.”

She folds your legs even further into a mating press, fingers moving down to pinch your clit as she admires the ring of cum starting to froth around the shaft. Her mind recalls how you tried to bounce on it earlier, whining about how difficult it is to get the whole cock inside you while Korryn just sat there and watched. It was pathetically endearing to watch how you struggled to even get halfway down the length, your city girl legs trembling from the new position and clearly calling for Korryn to take over.

“B-But I can…handle it—” Korryn shuts you up with a kiss that tastes of ginger ale and spice, pinching your clit even more to make you to squeak. She pulls away and flashes you a wolfish grin, speeding up her thrusts and watching as you struggle to adapt. “Pretty girl, your legs were tremblin’ like a baby lamb on the ranch. You were made for the pillow princess lifestyle, so don’t even bother arguin’ with me.”

She laughs in your face, but you could tell it wasn’t malicious. Even when you pouted, she only continued to plow you into the mattress, enjoying the way your folds swallowed her deeper than you ever could on your own. Korryn titled her head, flashing a lopsided smile when she stilled her movements, causing you to groan.

“Wh-Why’d you stop?”

“Look, princess.”

Korryn made you look at where she was looking, causing you to look down also.

“You took the whole damn thing. Faster and deeper than you ever could while ridin’ me.”

[storiumemporium]

Terminal

Chapter 2 - How to Make Friends: For Dummies

Word Count: 10.9k | Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Reader | Chapter Tags: Secondhand Embarrassment To The Extreme, Gore, Mild Horror?, The Reader Is Just Going Thru It Yall, Meet Cute KINDA???, that's all I can think of woops |

Things go really, really bad. Things go kinda okay. And... you make a new friend, maybe..?

Air cutting over bandaged knuckles, down a rigid pale forearm. Lungs burn around timed expansion and contraction, sending hot moisture in bursts that warm the air. Bone to muscle meets sand packed in leather and vinyl, kinetic force from wrist, to elbow, to shoulder. Good form, good mark. Bad form, fractured bone.

This was bullshit.

Bandaged feet dig against a foam crash mat, muscles constrict as hips pivot one over the other. Leaving the ground, impacting hard, force meeting resistance quaking the body.

The gym is entirely empty at this early hour, vacated of all other forms of life and sublimated by some sort of hazy and ill defined quality that Yelena could mistake for dreamlike if she weren’t acutely aware of the reality her days soon faced.

When Manhattan had happened, and the consequent rebrand into an Avenger. Yelena had thought that maybe she’d finally gained some iota of control over what direction in life she was headed and what was done to or around her. That from now on, she had the means to call the shots or influence someone else’s. And for the most part that had been true, no one on the team was inclined to do things that directly violated the wishes of another when it came to this place and this work. That was why they, in spite of everything leaning to the contrary, melded so well.

Then, as always, Valentina happened.

Absolute bullshit.

Yelena put her fists behind her feelings because alcohol was an outlet she was attempting to avoid these days, and with each brutal strike exhausting her arms she fantasizes about Valentina being in place of the swinging bag in front of her. Of reducing her to a pulp and dropping her off at some shitty clinic where they’ll botch the reconstruction. She didn’t deserve less with the shit she’s pulled. On all of them, on the general public. Who was she to decide who they’d have to deal with when they go into life or death missions? Why does she think she understands what they need when she’d done nothing up to this point but be glorified PR or a threat to them?

Maybe it was a testament to her comfort in this place, or perhaps to his skill, that she is unaware Bucky is leaning against the boxing ring when she turns.

He fills up the space in his own sort of way, not anything like she’d have expected once. The Winter Soldier was a name you inevitably heard if you toiled in the world of paid violence and espionage, and Bucky Barnes was a name you heard if you were a child in the USA that paid attention during history class. She only half did, so she knew the gist. But Bucky wasn’t this eerie menace that brought a frigid gale with each step or a five degree drop with his gaze, nor was he this boisterous and charming young man who incited a desire to do better or be an upstanding citizen just because he’d smiled at you.

He was a little tired around the edges, Bucky. His smile was well worn, like aged leather or brandy in a barrel. He was… sturdy more than imposing. And Yelena knew that this was a trained image, rather than an innate one. It was the one he consciously chose to have, rather than was given to him. She liked it. It showed more of who Bucky was than he even realized, she thinks.

“What are we going to do about this, Bucky?” She foregoes greetings and knows Bucky expects nothing less, slipping around him as her fingers fetch against gauze bandages that braced her knuckles. Plucking, plucking, then snagging up on the scratchy corner and beginning to unwind with a practiced efficiency. “I don’t care that we have super traffickers or scientists mad enough to make HYDRA blush up against us, she doesn’t get to just decide who invades our team and our home—”

His touch on her shoulder is brief, light. It doesn’t presume anything more than a nicer way of getting her to stop talking.

“I don’t like it either, you know that. But I don’t know that we have much choice,” he’s squinting off into the distance as he moves up alongside her. Bucky didn’t need to adjust his stride much with over half a foot on her in height, feet overtaking hers even as he moved more slowly than he normally would. She watches his jaw work as if he’s chewing on a thought, the threads of it rattling around behind his eyes as he deliberated on whether to spit it out. “If Valentina is right about what they’re looking for, this is outside the scope of discomfort.”

A very nice way of saying, suck it up and play nice so the world doesn’t end- again.

Bucky had a lot of expertise in these sorts of changes, she knew. He’d changed so much as a man and changed the crowds he ran in just as many times. A Howling Commando where every person he worked beside was his best friend, someone he’d seen war with. Lost them, lost himself, been entirely solo for decades, found himself listlessly and poorly matching every color he’d ever tried to blend into, until finally finding himself with the New Avengers. After enough times it likely smeared together. This addition was just another adjustment and he’d take it the way he had every time before, with pinched lips and a deep sigh.

Yelena was less tempered than that.

“No! This isn’t fair, nor is it right. You’ve seen just as much as I have what’s already beginning to happen.”

She knew he had to, because Bucky paid as much attention as she did when it came to the rest of the team.

They’d regressed. Not hugely, but the differences were noticeable where one knew to look. The rest of them had begun to build up walls and crawl into themselves again, with the only noted exception being Alexei as he lived by a simplistic policy of the bigger the better. But John? Ava? Herself? Even Bob who never had anything explicitly negative to say about the decision hadn’t been acting the same, following that introduction with the girl in their ceiling.

He seemed more hesitant to say what came to mind again, his easy cadence eroded slightly by the concept of being perceived without control. And, maybe, more so the realization that Valentina was watching and that meant that his illusory distance from her was dashed against the rocks.

In all, no one was really taking it well.

Bucky didn’t try to deny it, either. “I know. But in the end, this is what we do. Right? And that doesn’t always mean playing it by what suits us. At the very least it doesn’t seem like Valentina is moving her new addition in with us, we just have to handle an uninvited extra on assignments.”

It did nothing to unburden Yelena from the anger, but he wasn’t necessarily wrong. Or at least, she didn’t think so. Even Valentina wasn’t reckless enough to try and introduce a new member to the team and force them into the shared living space that had become something south of sacred for the six of them, especially with as fragile as the peace was. But in truth, combat was just as important as the Tower. When you were out there, no matter where ‘there’ was, you needed to be able to depend on every single soul you brought with. No matter how she clashed with John like a child, Alexei’s penchant for going off script, Ava’s tendency to run solo, or Bob’s total inexperience; they had each other’s backs. There was no world in which she didn’t believe at a dire moment that they could pull together for each other.

This girl, Terminal, there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Yelena had found maybe a handful of documents, they started at most three years back, and they were sparse in what they offered. The most clear information provided was that Valentina had been the one to find her, rather than vice versa. Beyond that? Her name dropped into a few post-assignment reports where she’d done a little more than bare minimum to help, offhand mentioned by other units as a possible avenue to circumvent research needed to be done…

It was the kind of sparse that meant this person either only just came into existence a few years ago, or did ample work to disappear entirely. It wasn’t that Yelena didn’t understand the need, her entire team is laced with bad decisions and deep regrets- but Valentina had something to do with this. Which meant there was no reason for Yelena to believe the sincerity of what was being played at.

She didn’t buy it in the least.

“There has to be another angle,” she knew she sounded obstinate. Unwilling to entirely relent to Bucky’s practicality on the matter. But this- this was important, she wouldn’t allow it to be rendered into something unimportant when it was the first purely good thing they’d all had in quite some time. “I don’t trust it, any of it.”

“Then don’t,” pragmatic and blunt. He didn’t sound judgmental, even frustrated as he turned and made sure Yelena met his eye. “I’m not asking you to discount yourself, I won’t even say you’re wrong. Keep an eye out, watch the way things play, see if you can catch Terminal out on whatever she might doing.

Just… we have to play along regardless.”

She would have with or without Bucky, but the affirmation that this wasn’t dividing them against each other - admittedly - made Yelena’s spirit feel the tiniest bit lighter.

Truly, if you had a gun right now you’d probably put it in your mouth and just pull the trigger. Not even quitting this assignment would be able to recover the damage done to your mind at this point. It simply couldn’t be going worse.

The first two days were utterly frigid. They didn’t acknowledge you even as you were brought into the fold to begin work on Enmis, treating you like a ghost or some sort of afterthought that occasionally buzzed it’s way back into their minds. The only time they really did want to address you was to use you the way they did the AI attached to the Tower.

Basically, you were Google.

And honestly, you’d already found that incredibly painful to deal with. Not necessarily that their dislike or their impersonality was hurtful in some immense way- but that it was a steady low frequency of embarrassment bordering on humiliation to be forced to seventh wheel a group of misfit heroes. At least in the prior jobs that you’d done, when you were forced briefly to cooperate with others they’d acknowledged you and been thankful for what you did. This group didn’t seem inclined to even try, easier to handle it themselves without your addition.

And the thing is, you couldn’t even blame them.

If you didn’t simply back your way out of the situation as quickly as possible to avoid stepping on toes, then it was because Valentina was there. Always there. She acted like the worlds strongest anti-acquaintance barrier you’d ever seen, her utter incapability to let a comment go without some harsh retort, or to snap at you like a dog to do whatever errand she needed. It just couldn’t look good, their opinion of you likely whittled down further with every passing minute.

You didn’t know how you were going to do it, and what occurred a matter of days ago was truly just- just the most lovely cherry on top of this shitcake you’d been served.

You accidentally ousted yourself as having been their creepy fucking peeping tom in the corner.

It was just a reflex, you were already in the overhead with them - though they weren’t particularly addressing you - as they milled about in the communal center of the Tower. This place was casual enough to discuss Enmis, what few leads were had and where they might want to investigate, or have you investigate first. But it also connected directly to one of the overzealously numbered kitchens in the entire building, a place that up until that point they hadn’t known you’d been watching for weeks. So when Bob went looking for misplaced nutmeg, eagerness to be useful for once had thoroughly stomped on your rationale. Directing him accurately to the top left cabinet.

The silence… you weren’t going to forget it.

Even Alexei who had been at that point the most consistently accepting of your presence, even approving, had twisted his brows down with an unpleasant curl of his mouth to match.

“And how is it… that you knew that..?” Yelena, scathing, her eyes had picked just one off any of the cameras in the building, and that cloister of feeling in your nape had the screens filtering with obedience so that you could look at her with the same level of shame as she was looking at you with disdain.

“I- …I-”

“Unbelievable, Valentina has been spying on us then, hasn’t she? That’s why you’re here? Her little pet to see what we’re doing at all times.” A finger had been pointed accusingly, and you’d attempted to sputter out defenses that meant nothing to their ears. Instead curving into a casual onslaught of Russian you were suddenly thankful you had zero fluency in, for the open disdain in which it was spoken left little to the imagination regardless.

“Some sneak you are, hm? Can’t even last the week before fucking it all up. Valentina! Next time, pick someone who knows what they’re doing if you’re going to try to spy on spies.”

The deafening quiet had remained, not long after everyone had lost reason to stay and promptly vacated the room, and somehow worse than being caught out on your sheer stupidity was the shame of driving them from somewhere they felt comfortable in.

There wasn’t much worse in the world to you, than depriving someone of their space.

Valentina, of course, had followed up that night to absolutely chew you to pieces on the matter. Useless, incompetent, pathetic, worthless. She’d spewed on and on in that tone that was utterly degrading and somehow never particularly angry, like you weren’t even worth that amount of emotion out of her. In that corporate tirade, you’d cut your mic and allowed yourself to cry- hiccupping and blotchy with a level of humiliation you hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Even following that: once she’d cut the call without awaiting your response, you’d slunk your way through the bunker into your bedroom like you were afraid of being seen even all the way down here. In it you’d crawled, curling fetal at the very center and let all manner of ugliness spew out. Staining your sheets and sleeves as you wished above all else that the cotton fiber would split open and let you pass unobstructed into it, that white strands would digest you into a reverie so deep that only bones would be found some day in the far future. Even they quailed inside of you, their noises at your nape turned mournful and scratchy.

What use were you, really?

Why couldn’t you just be left alone?

It was for this reason that you didn’t return for several days, you assumed that maybe Valentina would find someone more competent for the task to replace you. Maybe she’d even drop you and let you finally rot in piece in the tomb you chose, and no longer have to suffer the endless agonies of the one thing you didn’t want to do. Talk to people, or let them realize that you exist.

Instead, you’d been given five days until she was calling on you.

“Where have you been?” She had the audacity to sound annoyed with you, that you’d somehow slighted her again in your absence. It baffled you to the point of absurdity, leaving you only able to respond completely sincerely.

“I… I just didn’t think you wanted me anymore..?” You could hear the mystification in your own voice, watching the gain wheel jump as it picked out your voice into your microphone. Green to yellow to green as you emphasized your tone in places. “I just… I fucked it all up, so I’m done, right?”

“Ohhh no no, you don’t get out of this that easily. What you get to do is get back in there, fix this and get me results on Enmis. None of us needs another Robert Reynolds in the world, or anything close to it.”

You didn’t particularly enjoy the way she spoke about a human being, but swallowed that for the mirror later.

“I don’t… I don’t know how…”

Even without being able to see her, the pause was enough for you to know she was battling some sort of reaction or expression.

“It’s not my problem to figure out how to fix it for you. Apologize? Grovel if you have to! Buy them all gift baskets! Think of something. Now, I’m sending more information to you and to them. Join. That’s an order.”

You were left with the static hum of fluorescents and screens and towers. Buzzing around in a way that made your head throb angrily. You were frustrated, and lost, and being set up for further humiliation. How do you apologize for being a freak? How do you fix the fact that nobody wants you around? You don’t. You take the loss and you walk away, or at least you should if you had any amount of self preservation. But Valentina doesn’t care about things like that, you could grind yourself into sand and she’d only be disappointed if no high quality glass came of it.

So instead, they flick the screens over to the Tower… and you do the one thing you aren’t supposed to be.

You watch.

They look peaceful, like this. They seemed to have unwound since your absence, you were sure of it. Yelena and Ava you find on the monitor to your far left, Yelena’s feet have been tucked under her, while Ava is sat cross-legged. Between the two are a number of different card games, and the pixels twitch slightly as the colors across their faces and the couch periodically change to reflect whatever they were watching at this point. You can see Ava say something, and the moment where Yelena’s face lights up. The recognition of the comment, and the rewarding laugh. Ava just grins back, but you can see in the faint pinch around her eyes that she’s more pleased by this than she lets on.

Alexei you cannot find, and presume he must be in his room at this point. It was the one place you’d refused to invade, much like your odd compulsion against peoples’ indoor cameras. You didn’t lack the curiosity, but whatever tatters of moral conviction kept you at bay. That was a place for them and them alone. Even if… realistically, this was all for them and no less a violation.

Bucky and John are sparring, and by the looks of it it might be teetering something towards more friendly than hostile this time. Though they aren’t pulling punches - even with the audio cut you can see the way their bodies shudder and jolt under each impact - there’s a sort of brevity when they back off from each other. Sorting each other out before colliding once more at the center. John has a lot of brute force behind his movements, and you can see years of military service carved into his shoulders and arms, legs- even in the stockier shape of his torso. Bucky isn’t far off, but he doesn’t move like a military man. He’s almost never on the heels of his feet, sticking to the pads as he nearly glides around his opponent. It’s an odd dichotomy, that he moves in sharp and aggressive bursts at the upper half, but he almost has the lower body control of a ballerina.

For a moment you struggle to find the final element of this chemical slurry you’ve been forcefully injected into, eyes scrolling listlessly over dozens of screens until something mite and sticky electric tingles just beneath your right ear- this way- and your eyes dart to row four, column five. Bob.

He’s outside.

Or rather, he’s in the private garden on the roof.

You’d found him here a few times during your bouts of watching. He did the least of anyone and yet was the most captivating for you, all at once. A strange contradiction you found yourself unwilling to decipher in case you disliked what you found in it.

He’s sitting with one leg pulled in and the other stretched, resting in the grass with his back against a newly supplanted tree. From what you can tell, his eyes are closed, the wind pushing against his clothes and curled hair. He looks at peace like this, enjoying the space and the feeling of sky and weather without dealing with the people or possibly even the noise that often inhabited it as well. You wonder if that’s why color came back to his skin, since those photos and videos from the year prior? An uninhabited little corner of world for him to experience the outside with, and zero shame or mental toll to come with it. The only people who would ever bother him are the ones he’d want bothering him. You can see his throat bob as he swallows, shifting to sink that little bit lower into his contentment.

You switch away, leaving the Tower entirely.

It wasn’t your place to be, and you didn’t belong.

Two days later and you tune in again, and you watch them again like they’ve become some weird obsession.

They’re having a movie night, you think. Snacks are laid out, pillows and blankets strewn freely. Yelena is resting against Alexei, Bucky and John have taken the furthest corners of the couch with their legs stretched out. Ava is on the floor. Bob is in his recliner - one no one else uses and seems to be dedicated solely to him. One which cost enough that your stomach did ugly things when you finally got around to figuring out where it was from.

They’re laughing, smiling. Bob seems happy to watch them, his face a little flushed and rosy. He’s got a sandwich on the table, some sort of orange soda fizzing away.

You watch a few moments longer, and once again switch away. The bunker is dark, and very empty. Your back to nothing, and no one.

It’s another several days of this, before things start to move for you. Or maybe without you?

You watch them, you try to parse out how to talk to them, Valentina has her assistant send increasingly more distressed emails urging you to do something, and you stir about in your shame and your misery at how terribly suited for this you are. That speaking and being were just not your forte. You fiddle about on the internet, invest in retail therapy, pace around the entire bunker enough times that you end up kicking a wall and jamming your pinkie toe, retire to your chair because walking no longer seemed fun.

You’re browsing around on the internet, swapping nauseatingly fast between platforms to see what the goings-on of aquarium owners, birders, tailors and crocheters and knitters, cat owners, reptile keepers and the like were doing at this moment in time. It was the thing that occupied you best, peeking into other lives as they willingly divulged them- and sometimes getting into overly heated debates about whether or not that cry was a warbler until three in the morning.

It’s what you have to do for the evening, too paralyzed by the fact that this is work hours for you to indulge in anything more recreational. Odd, considering your job was to sit there uselessly anyways.

Theretheretherelookthereit’stherethey’retherelooklookingaskinglook—

They’re more active, restless, and it makes your head throb with the warning signs of a potential migraine if you don’t abate them well enough today. You know why they get this way, it doesn’t make it easier to handle when they do. So instead you let them take the reigns, thrown forward into flipping switches and pressing keys until—

“Yo!” The voice crackles through sharp enough to startle you in your seat. The sliding joints thunking quietly when you don’t put enough force in to adjust it to reclining mode, just pushing it until the bones meet. “Uh- what’s your name- what’s her name- computer chick!”

Cutting over the raucous voice of one John Walker, Ava: “It’s Terminal, dumbass. Are you there?”

You gape for a moment, feeling like a hook should be in your lip. Then you remember you have to answer for them to know, and slap the mic live.

“H-Hello? Yes. I’m here.”

“Oh, good. We need your help-” your heart shrinks just that little more at the groan that sounds in the background, a murmuration like some of them were hoping that you truly were gone. That felt a little bit mean. “-for real this time. And not whatever shit Valentina sent you for.

You actually know your way around computers, right?”

Indignancy rises, and is quelled just as fast by the recognition that you’ve done nothing to earn their trust thus far. Just been ousted as a freak on Valentina’s payroll.

“Yes Miss Starr, nothing that was said about me or why I’m here is a lie—” your chin trembles as you work your mouth, seeing the casual disbelief tossed out there the moment you tried to defend yourself.

“—I would be happy to help, what did you need?” They’re in the background, but speaking softly enough that the mics aren’t entirely picking it up. Just hisses of almost vowels.

“Ava, first of all… Unfortunately Enmis seems to actually be ****something, so we’ve still been looking. We think we might have a hit, but the kind of information we need is above our paygrade and our location. Valentina told us that you’re something like a global database, wherever you are. So, think you can break into a facility in Myanmar?”

You practically surge with a potential victory on your breath. They’re giving you a chance to do something, finally. You might, just might have the slightest chance of getting your foot in the door if you don’t catastrophically fuck this up.

“Yes! Uhm- yes. Yes, I can do that. What information do you have already? Otherwise I’ll need to start searching databases and that might take time on account of not knowing—”

“We’re sending it,” comes Yelena, whose voice is not strained but certainly dull and clipped. Whatever happened just before being called here, it seems Yelena was against the decision. Fair enough. “It should give you a general area, and an idea of what they were poking around in when we were flagged for it. We need you to figure out locations, objectives, if it’s worth it for us to touch down there and raid.”

You knew the implications of that. It needed to be big, because if it wasn’t then they’d just be showing their hand with nothing to pay them back for it. Jumping the shark, as it were.

“Okay, leave it to me.” Your stomach and heart are now the ones crocheting together. They feel like they’ve been hard tacked to your intestines. “I promise, I’ll have it to you soon.

And- and I’m sorry about the things that happened before- the uh-”

The thought went nowhere, their faces closing off into patterns of annoyance or coldness. Still, fair enough. Though that one stung just the tiniest bit more.

“We’re not looking to be friends,” comes John again, trying hard to sound tougher than he is. “We just want help getting this job done, then we go our separate ways.”

“…I understand… I’ll do my best.”

You don’t feel much like saying anything else, and they don’t much mind. So contact is cut as you rapidly pull up a dozen different browsers on a dozen different screens to begin the dive.

You don’t notice the solemn look on Bob’s face as the screen he occupied vanishes, replaced with CCTV footage.

Two weeks are spent on this, giving regular updates to your team.

While it’s true that Myanmar appears to be the base of operations, they’ve been passing between Thailand and Laos regularly. Everything you’ve checked indicates that they’re hauling large quantities of some unknown substance along the way, tens of thousands of gallons of it, at that. Flight logs, movement patterns, certificates, and rentals are flooded to their tablets alongside seemingly relevant snippets of conversation over military, police, and local radio stations. It’d made you vomit more than once, migraines that led to nosebleeds and painfully ringing ears, but you managed to digest enough information to learn the gist of Burmese, Thai and Lao- and the word Enmis stood out plainly. You’d seen their bafflement over it, but it was just as they said.

Just a job, right? Doesn’t matter how you’re doing it.

You’re blinking blearily at the your ocean of screens in the dark, each with their segmented priority playing out at you. Some are still relaying footage in the areas you most frequently see what you believe to be their convoys pass through, others are reading off border registry. In your hand is a mug of instant hot chocolate, snug as you are under your blanket and trying your best not to be caught by sleep.

In the meantime, a letter goes out to Valentina. They’re talking to you - somewhat. You’re helping them - kind of.

It’s a half step to progress, you just hope that it counts well enough. This is what you were brought onto this team to do, right? You’re helping.

Enough tasks have been delegated to you that instead of murmuring and unrest, you’ve been given a pleasant lull to sink into. They almost purr with content, their trillions of little sparkles reduced down to something like stars instead of the flashes of cameras or muzzle fire. All of them churn over each other, the interaction slithering up and along your brain placidly. You don’t hurt tonight, and that’s a relief.

Sipping at the chocolate, your hands curl into the warmth and you begin to trawl your eyes over screens. Something about a local festival is beginning to kick up around the area Enmis were last spotted, and you don’t need super genius to assume that they’ll likely capitalize on the movement to exploit vulnerabilities for personal gain. You know realistically it’d be smart to inform your team of this and let them proceed how they like, but there’s this odd slither down your spine, chilly between your shoulder-blades that sing songs at you to stay and observe. You just might accrue something more valuable from inaction, in this scenario.

Still, that’s a matter of days out, so instead you people watch.

All those bodies passing through, short and tall, wiry and plump. Most look absent of much thought beyond their next task that day. Some are visibly annoyed, many smiling and laughing- whether it’s with someone on the phone, or the person next to them.

It’s strange to see all those colors and lives playing out on a screen. They don’t know they’re being seen by an extra interloper, nor do you think they particularly care. It doesn’t matter, it’s just a tiny snapshot in an entire life. Some of these people have been alive several times longer than you, you or your parents. They knew the world before your infinitesimally miniscule intrusion upon it, and there’s no guarantee they won’t live to see the world after you leave it. A few incredibly young and bundled into adoring arms, faces blank and wondering, are near guaranteed to know what that world is like.

Another gulp, a little bigger and it burns on the way down. The cup sets gently against laminate, and you continue to watch that screen with all those little passing faces until your eyes grow dry and your capacity for consciousness entirely depletes.

The festival arrives, and your suspicions are confirmed.

All the CCTV around the city provides you with ample angles with which to watch the world vacate, droves of people going to enjoy their impromptu holiday and the rest electing to remain at home. Streets were more sparse than usual, and it left you with an uncanny image to mull on.

You didn’t particularly enjoy existing, or - at least not in the vicinity of others. But in the same breath, you didn’t like other people not existing. It was more that you were diametrically opposed to the existence of society, not in mind but in body. A virus pushed out by the white blood cell of social etiquette and cultural consciousness. It’s why you observed, really. It was the only way you could learn how to be like that, like people are.

This was without reference, barely even signs of life. All the fingerprints that humanity existed here and yet none of the little creatures you wanted to be just like. Quiet, and still.

It takes a few hours, the time inching over to four in the morning in Manhattan when things finally begin to move in ways that actually mean something.

Initially the sight of cars passing by wouldn’t invoke any sort of notice, you’ve got your eyes on all the major highways through the city and people pass by constantly. But the normalcy of it has been interrupted by volume and the unnatural timing of it, they’re consecutive as if marching and almost entirely all the same color.

It was a convoy, but larger than you’d seen up until that point, and moving in all different directions.

They writhe about in your nape, excited and chattering as you sit up, and all monitors blink away from their assigned individual and group tasks to focus on this. The big moment you’ve been waiting for, what were they doing?

In all, it takes a complete total of twenty-five minutes nearly on the dot.

Five locations are targeted, two are labs, one is a hospital, a military post, and the major grid for over half of the entire city. The outpost goes first while also taking you the longest to get into, their somewhat rudimentary defense is paired by abysmal camera placement, swatting at your nerve endings annoyingly- and then you watch it all, given the live front row view as a steel door crumples like paper.

You still collect the footage from the other locations, because it’s important to know what they want out of labs and hospitals and a power grid of all things- but you don’t watch it. Because you don’t really need to.

The CCTV footage flickers and buzzes- desaturated as a heavily armored vehicle rams through the wall of one of the barracks on site, clouds of dust and bricks spray across and the tiled floor cracks under thousands of pounds of rubber and metal. You can see the structural integrity of the building wane, the wall slouching and the ceiling bowing down. The ceiling lights fall further into view of the camera now off kilter, the wiring come loose under force and now swinging uneasily from side to side while it’s motion is jittered by further rumbles. Shouting, indistinct and grainy, presses through your speakers and grows louder as the people they belong to draw closer. Then the back doors slam open and gunfire follows. But it does little to deter the thing that comes out.

Between each blinding flash that whites out the lens and your CRT as a result, a close interpretation of a human is seen.

It’s warped, whatever it is. This mass of overdeveloped flesh bound by skin colored like a bruise, it’s ears are small and knotted, eyes beady and sunken, but it’s teeth are massive and you can see holes in the cheeks where it’d cut through the soft skin and fat. It’s arms look grotesquely swollen, the arteries filled to bursting and the joints of it’s fingers bending too far as it dives forward, between one flicker and the next there’s new red painting the collapsing hall. And then it’s climbing the stairwell.

The thing you note, is that it is injured- and doesn’t seem to care.

You can’t really make out what shade it is, with how dark it is and how poor the cameras are, but something is sluggishly beginning to mat down the tatters of the civilian clothes this thing is wearing. It presses on, blind and ravenous and seeking the next moving object to destroy- a rolling cart gets caught in the crossfire of it’s motion aggression, and then it descends on an entire group of young soldiers whose faces are crested with legitimate terror before ending. Sharply, violently, and quickly.

Still, that blood-approximate moves more like molasses as it begins to drop onto the ground, holding shape for a moment before pooling like a liquid should between the grout. And on it goes, hateful and destroying everything.

You’re cold all over, and captivated by it’s graceless barbarity when one of them tugs at you to look away- look away and see something else. Something important enough to not bear witness to the absolute destruction of many.

On the opposite end of the site, a group of what appear to be entirely ordinary citizens are flanked by rows of men clad head to toe in armor and lined to the teeth with weapons. They seem impassive, utterly bored by the goings-on a thousand yards away. None of them look like they’re native to the area, either. Two of which you are almost entirely certain you know the identity of, considering what you’re hearing happen elsewhere in the outpost.

Doyenko and Haikali.

The man you assume to be Doyenko has taken on more practical attire for the occasion. The man looks like a sheet of paper against the tropical climate of Myanmar, with an olive colored kevlar vest sat overtop his expensive looking white button up, a pistol strapped to his thigh over his slacks and a knife in one of his boots. His hands and wrist adorned in a watch and rings, lifting it to light a cigarette hanging from his mouth. You can’t hear it but he’s speaking, your ears are still ringing with the sound of gunfire, of people screaming for their lives, an ungodly inhuman shriek drowning them out.

Haikali surprises you entirely. You suppose that when you heard mad scientist your mind made the easy leap to white lab coat and weaselly, palpably insane demeanor. But Haikali is distinctly absent of any armor and clad head to toe in aubergine and coal and gold. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings. His hair is done in thick, black locs decorated by jewel encrusted golden beads. Gold rimmed glasses, painted nails, even what looked to be color on his lips. The man was lavish by all intents and purposes, and carried himself like he knew it.

You can see his head turn, the blinding smile as he replies.

A godawful crunch, pitiful gurgling is all that makes it to your ears.

They aren’t particularly happy to be woken up.

You’d been too flustered and disturbed by what you saw to keep it to yourself until a more reasonable hour of the day arrived- so that at four forty-eight in the morning you had the entire half dazed and deeply groggy New Avengers nestled around their coffee table ready to look at whatever it is you had in store for them.

“I uh- I’m sorry to have woken all of you up, but this can’t wait.”

And then you dive into a brief recount of your suspicions regarding the opening the festival had provided Enmis, your decision to not say anything and keep watch. And the unprecedented series of events that had followed.

Showing them the footage, the screams, and the men you believed to be Doyenko and Hakali had thoroughly sapped all sense of exhaustion from their bones. Their posture rigid and their eyes alert and disturbed. You knew it was one thing to see violence of any sort, because that was par for the course in their careers. But this…

“…What the hell was that thing..?” Ava is the one to break the silence first, speaking what came to mind for the rest of the group.

They’d all seen their fair share of atrocities and horrors, they’d seen crazier and scarier things than just superpowered people (Bucky above all else, with hordes of alien creatures descending like locusts on Wakanda) but this was… Disturbing. The blurred eyes of that thing as it’d stared into one of the cameras remains burnt into their minds. The way it dove off walls and even the ceiling, goring soldiers on the ends of it’s elongated and too flexible digits. The sight of it being progressively further and further torn to pieces by bullets and yet refusing to stop. As if numb or unregistering of the damage and pain being done to it. Even as metal shredded across it’s skull, took it’s eye, shattered teeth-

Only once that viscous fluid that comprised it’s blood finally stopped pouring, did it drop. Unceremonious, without retaliation or fear or anger. Crumpling to the dirt and gurgling something awful as it twitched, spasmed, then ceased altogether.

“What we are going against,” was Alexei’s reply. He sounded almost grim, unwilling to look away from the still shots displayed for them. “We were told this was serious, Valentina did not lie.”

There was a moment you had, as you watched this thing bite through the barrel of a gun where you wondered, if they have this why would they need anything near the serum Bob had been given? This could destroy a country, easily.

And then, that thought brewing like coffee and coming out darker and ever more bitter with consideration. What could they create with the serum that had made him?

Bob was lucky out of the lineup that had been given his serum, the only one who had survived. And from it - a highly clinical, very sterile serum made by people with interest in little else other than steady employment and money - came a three-headed pseudo-deity that could submerge the entire world into whatever mind game he so desired just based upon his mental state at the time. If that was what had come from this, then what could a man who made the bloated, gnarled cadaver on the screen do with it?

Bob seemed to have had the same thought, if the way he was curled on a ball on the couch unspeaking and unmoving were anything to go by. He seemed a little frightened, even if it didn’t have anything directly to do with him.

“I’ve patched through every bit of information I gained from the event, and though I’d recommend getting samples off that creature it’s- a bit above my means to send in assets to grab material,” you threaded your fingers together, nodding to yourself as you spoke. “But I have reason to believe that whatever they’re trying to do involves a great deal of power, as they stole something out of the grid that wasn’t named on any official documents.

They’re gearing up for something large, but I don’t know what. I’m sorry that’s all I could glean from this.”

“Good job.”

What?

A laugh, shit- did you say that out loud? “I said, good job.”

It was Bucky, his face a little tight still. He didn’t seem to be in great spirits, though not necessarily dragged down by what you had all witnessed either. It was that sort of resignation before a fight you knew was going to get ugly, like he’d begun to steel himself for the rollercoaster that they were approaching at speed.

“Th- Thank you. I appreciate that. A lot.” And with that you squeezed your eyes shut, only mildly embarrassed by the emphasis on the end. If Bucky had found it strange, he didn’t find any reason to comment. Instead standing from his position on the couch. The other’s leaned back to watch, brows lifted.

“We now know the size of the threat- which is frankly larger than any of us had anticipated,” Bucky sounded almost a little embarrassed by the admission. “Valentina did a poor job of conveying the scale of the situation…”

There was a beat, a thought crossing through his mind- you had no idea what. His mouth opened, then closed again, his eyes darting to the camera mounted above the tv, functionally making eye contact with you.

“Keep up the good work, we’re counting on you. For now we need to be prepared for whatever comes our way, because we still don’t really know what that is. The advantage on our side being that Enmis doesn’t know we’re watching or that we’re a problem in their future, so countermeasures shouldn’t be in place.”

Following that, Bucky had promptly begun to move toward the bar. You saw a deeply overfilled glass of whiskey in his extremely near future.

The rest for their part had stalled longer than Bucky on the information, still looking at the screen and then between each other. Eventually sitting up to nudge against each other, some either beginning to murmur about potential plans or what threats they needed to think of- ways to counteract a monstrous human that doesn’t feel pain. The others bitched about being awake, and were already beginning to move back to their floors to rest for the few remaining hours before sunlight rudely came knocking at full force.

Bob didn’t move from the spot, not until long after the others had slithered away. And even then, he crossed the world the way a ghost would. Silent, and disinclined to have a recognizable presence.

Another week passes almost uneventfully.

More so, the events that did happen utterly paled in comparison to the explosive intro you’d been rocketed through. There’d been more movements, and then Enmis had simply vanished. Myanmar, Thailand, Laos— gone. They barely even left traces. The New Avengers hadn’t yet decided to try and put feet to soil to confront them, and no one had anticipated that by the time a conclusion would have been made, they’d already be gone to the wind.

It’d left you, Valentina, and the others in a scramble trying to pick up some sort of tracks that could hint to their whereabouts. But it was like they’d never existed at all, something that further unsettled Bucky and Yelena as the two with the most experience in the act of vanishing.

So, Valentina cast the widest net she possibly could, and you sorted through it like one of those little filter shrimp. Discarding and keeping pieces almost as quickly as she brought them to you.

And while you did that, you went back to watching.

It wasn’t as aggressive as before. You were starting to develop… non-animus amongst these people you would be working with for an unknown amount of time, and as a result you were disinclined to ruin that by being a total freak yet again. Instead you had arbitrarily limited yourself to a handful of areas, the outside gardens, the rooms you’d already been heard inside of, as well as the lobby and exterior cameras. You left things like personal floors, the gym, even the area that they most often congregated to them— a pseudo peace offering and an absolute apology.

Weirdly enough… it was kind of working?

They were still tense around the edges with you, things were cordial. You weren’t given friendly comments and remarks, you weren’t in on the jokes- nor did you feel comfortable trying to be. But you’d noticed that the abrasion and the need to look over their shoulder had almost entirely vanished. You didn’t know if it was a subconscious thing, or if they’d realized you had permanently vacated a majority of the Tower and kept yourself contained.

Regardless, you were talking to them. That was a victory you’d gladly take.

Tonight you’re looking out into the garden again, it was interesting to see the little slivers of the city the camera offered with it’s million and one glittering lights. The grass and the trees well maintained in spite of absurd altitude and the concrete that they were incased atop of. It was a nice view, not just a nice enough one… and it made you feel a little less lonely somehow.

Something exacerbated when the glass door hisses open, and Bob steps out into the grass.

He looks cozy, done up in his layers of incredibly baggy pajamas and no shoes or socks, allowing the blades of grass to curl around his bare feet. His hair is more messy, like he’d been toying with it a great deal, and though his eyes are tired, he looks content.

He’s quick to find his chosen spot, the same one you’d found him in before those weeks prior and you assume has been to many times since. His back to the wood while he stretches himself out and lets his eyes fall closed. It’s windier today, and where most would be ducking their heads and trying to use something to buffet the annoyance as they get around- Bob seems to bask in the sensation. His hair, already mussed, becoming frizzier and more undefined as threads of the gale cut through it.

It’s nice to watch, he’s nice to watch. It wasn’t like the others who were always either loud or busy- something on the agenda, someone to talk to. Bob had a sort of stillness around him, a tendency to exist in the moment and not obligated to action. It was this, or cooking himself something, or reading a book. Sometimes it was just finding him curled up in front of one of the massive bay windows, watching the rain blanket Manhattan with it’s sodden fingers.

It goes on like this for a little bit, maybe five… ten minutes? Your attention dissolved from all other things just to look at the same skyline as him, to appreciate the silhouette of him in the comfort of his element. It was like your own organic little break time, instead of just deciding you wanted to stop for a moment to wander without cause around the bunker.

And then, you see it-

A subtle twitch of his brow, the way he scratches the back of his neck and scrunches his nose for a second. Then attempts to return to stasis, only that-

“Hello?” His voice breaks through your speakers, wobbly with uncertainty and yet still so sudden that you bounce aggressively in your seat. The movement is met by a lyrical chorus of ‘oooh-’ sliding down the back of your head, before returning to silence.

His eyes flutter open, and then he’s looking dead at the camera, at you.

“Are— …are you there?”

Once more you feel caught out - starting to get annoyed by that particular feeling - and remember after a beat that he can’t actually see or hear you if you don’t respond. And besides, you’re trying not to be a creep anymore.

Your microphone clicks live, and you stammer immediately upon opening your fat mouth, “Hi- hi, um… Yeah, sorry. I didn’t- I was just enjoying the view.”

You wait for it, the reprimand, the disdain that the others held when you fumbled over an interaction or did something off-putting that warranted a side eye.

Instead, you see a little curl of his mouth before he looks away.

“You think it’s nice out here, too? I like the- the city. I get overwhelmed when I’m actually down there but… up here’s… s’nice.”

He’s holding conversation with you.

He’s talking to you. And it sounds natural, and he doesn’t seem upset by it, and-

“Yeah… Yeah! It’s beautiful. Sometimes when I’m parsing through reports I just like to flick over here to look at the city while I go. Most other footage is closer to the street, still nice but more for- for people watching…”

Embarrassment blooms in your chest as you taper off your sentence. You’d barely been talking but maybe it was too much? And maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned that you like to watch people? It was mortifyingly relevant to what you’d been caught out doing before, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it reminded him of that.

“Other footage?” His voice has remained soft, and you think he might be utterly oblivious to your internal panic. You hope so. “Do you watch other places than just the Tower? I guess that makes sense, but—”

God, him mentioning that made you want to bite your own fingers off, maybe your tongue.

“Yeah… I uh- I promise I’m not just some creep staring at you guys all the time,” you say with a timid laugh. You feel cowed and maybe even a tiny bit ashamed of yourself. Once again confronted with the image you presented to them, the abysmal introduction thus far. “I’m sorry about that, by the way…

I know I come off- god I must come off so fucking weird but it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t stalking- or- or spying! I just…”

And then you cut off, defeated, sighing. What do you even say? How do you explain in a way that isn’t somehow fundamentally disturbing or deterring for the one person who has bothered to acknowledge you of their own volition? Who is striking up conversation in the middle of the night, out with the earthborn stars and grass and life?

But Bob is staring off into a direction now, his head tilted consideringly. His hands working into his pants subconsciously as he processes your words, considers what you aren’t saying and what you’re trying to say to him.

“I don’t think you’re weird.”

“Really?”

“…Yeah. I mean— don’t get me wrong, I have no idea how you thought that was a good idea,” he laughs softly, more just an amused expulsion of breath with this wry little smile. It manages to not feel like it was at your expense, and you hum in return. “But I- I mean. I can’t really judge… I’ve done some uh… some pretty weird things too, and these guys seem to like me anyways.”

“I was just nervous.” You blurt it out blindly. The notion of forgiveness or understanding has you immediately diving off the deep end, ready to vomit your entire heart out just for someone to be on your side for once. Or at least, not think ill of you. “I um… I’m not good with people. It’s why I don’t understand Miss— I don’t understand Valentina deciding to do this. All my work before was solo, or with maybe two people talking to me? Quiet things, very background.”

Where you belonged.

“She didn’t give me much preparation for this, just told me this was where I was going and when I was going there. Everything else was on my own terms and I— I’ve never really done this sort of thing before so I tried to figure out how to handle it? And like, I went all over advice forums and those stupid therapy websites and things like that but none of it seemed tangible for what I was about to do, so…

So I tried to study, so to speak.”

You can see even through the distant footage of his face, the less than stellar quality the way some sort of comprehension drapes it’s arm over his shoulder. He almost seems to light up as you speak, like he’s following a mystery novel and finally getting the conclusion.

“Oh! Oh… Okay. Yeah I- I think I get it now. You thought that if you watched what we were doing, it’d be easier to get along with us, right?”

Face finding it’s way to your hands, you thank every god that genuinely may or may not exist out there that he can’t see you. You’re so deeply red, so humiliated and so relieved, and it’s a fight to keep the thickness out of your throat. You don’t want to cry immediately like this, don’t want to ruin the moment so quickly.

“Yeah… That’s exactly it. That’s all. I know that doesn’t justify breaking into your home and- and watching you live without realizing I’m there but… I just-

This is all really scary to me? And it’s the only idea I had. It blew up in my face, obviously. But…”

But thank you, for understanding.

He didn’t need to hear you say it, you could see the way he nodded. Not aggressive, but with his brows lifted slightly and something close to a smile on his face.

“Yeah that was a terrible idea,” and you can’t help but interrupt him by groaning, his voice growing louder and his smile more prominent as he continued over the sounds of your anguish. “I mean literally all of us have insane trust issues, half of us are assassins or spies. You really couldn’t have picked a worse way of going about it. I think Yelena would have preferred if you were just weird.”

“Thanks, thank you. That’s incredibly useful information now. After the fact. So unbelievably far after the fact.”

And then he’s laughing, and you’re giggling at yourself. And you watch him shrug a shoulder loosely, his gaze turning back out to the city and away from the security camera that makes up your eye.

“I get it, though. And- if it makes you feel better? I put everyone in Manhattan in their personal mental torture chambers and they forgave me. So… Give it time, and I think they’ll come around.”

“I… don’t know that that matters, really.” And you pick at your nails, unwilling to look at the screen as you tell him the truth. “I don’t think Valentina is intending to keep me around, and John made it clear he wants me out the moment Enmis is dealt with.

So uh… This might be the first and only pleasant interaction I get before none of us sees each other again.”

It goes quiet long enough for you to look up, to see him staring into the lens and at you. You don’t know what he’s looking at, or what he’s seeing. There’s miles of difference, mountains of dirt and stone and concrete and metal dividing the two of you- and yet you feel somehow very exposed under that gaze.

“You think this is a pleasant interaction?”

“I mean… Yeah..? Was I- Am I misreading—?”

“No… But uh- do you want it to be the last one?”

“…No.” The admission is a small shock even to yourself. “It’s been kinda lonely, if I’m honest. So this is… this is nice.”

And once again Bob returns to silence, droning on for several moments as he listens to the breeze and watches traffic inch through Manhattan. From up here you can’t really hear anything- and certainly not through the subpar microphones, but there’s a sort of disconnect that comes with the intersection of total quiet in the heart of a megacity.

It’s all magnified by the man you watch, by that stillness you’d taken note of before. Something you suspect is both the gentle quietness native to his personality, and that something more that lurks underneath. Regardless, he takes his time with what you’ve said and you’re not inclined to force him to hurry. He as always, doesn’t seem like he’s been constrained by the clock. Maybe that was one of the things he was learning to give up.

“You can come talk to me, then.”

You don’t know why but the words land physically for you. It’s such a small consideration, an incredibly casual offer on his part. But he barely knows you and again- again- you’ve done nothing but be an astronomical fuck up and an embarrassing oddity your entire time here. It would be so easy for him to give you a ‘that’s rough, buddy’ and keep it moving.

You blink away the blotchiness, and smile though you know he can’t see it.

“I’d really like that, Bob. I- I think I’ll take you up on that, if you don’t mind.”

His smile again, head dipping slightly so his hair falls further.

“I don’t. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise, y’know? If I’m honest… it’ll be nice to talk to someone different, for once. I love them, don’t get me wrong. It’s just-

The same people all the time. I should probably be working on handling more than that.”

You think that if anyone else had told you that the way Bob did, it would have come off horrifyingly insulting. Instead it’s just earnest, sweet. He wants someone to talk to, and you want someone who doesn’t think you’re awful.

“Well then… You can expect to hear me around. I’d say see but-” and from where you sit, you gesture at the arsenal of tech both old and new that allows you to exist in his space without being there.

“Yeah… I’ll hear you around.”

The two of you linger in the silence with each other for a bit longer, Bob returning to enjoying the scenery he’s planted himself into. And you enjoying being allowed to freely observe without judgement or, worse, feeling like an intruder upon his space. It’s a sort of camaraderie that builds in the breaths between as you begin to switch monitors to your work, the only ones whose faces are left unaltered being those that Bob occupies off in the corner. You wonder if he feels you the same way you feel him, like this. Though maybe he did, if he had somehow come to realize he was being watched earlier without your conscious input.

The night smears into a soft haze, the world gone a bit golden warm. Your patterns of function slowing down, their symphonic chimes in your head reduced to a croon, gaze turned bleary and unfocused. It’s been a long few weeks, and today feels like more of a victory than the festival did- just a personal one this time.

“Hey, Bob?”

You hear him hum, see from your periphery how his head lifts from the book he’d grabbed at some point during your shared silence. He’s looking at the camera again, looking for you.

“I think I’m gonna call it here, tonight… It’s- it’s been really nice sitting with you.” You offer it with a stammering cadence, tripping on your sincerity and landing face first into a wet puddle of sheer nerves. But he just smiles back, small and sweet.

“Okay, I understand. Goodnight, Terminal.”

You smile wide, eyes crinkling at the edges, and think he might hear it in your voice.

“Goodnight, Bob.”

[ferigrievous]

✶⋆.˚ ROMANCE TROPES | KARASUNO FIRST YEARS .ᐟ

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; 1.7k wc

a.n ; once again inspired by @/kaiijo's romance tropes post. seijoh four version. also technically hinata's is post timeskip sorry 😓

hinata shoyo ✦︎ slow burn.

the first thing hinata learned is that the world does not wait for someone like him. the second, is that lost things arent always meant to be found.

it was not love. not at first, at least. not in the way he thought love was supposed to be. he had thought love was something grand, something that swept people off their feet. a need that burned so fiercely it became impossible to ignore. 

but love, he found, was also in the quiet things.

it was in the way you pressed a cold glass of calamansi juice into his hands after practice, the way you scolded him for streaking mud across the tiled floors. it was in the way you laughed, in the way you softened your words when you saw frustration crease his brow. it was in the way you knew him. not as a player, not as the small giant who he had hoped he was, but as shoyo, the orange haired boy who did not yet understand that belonging was not something you had to earn.

he did not meet you in the way stories often dictate—no grand moment, no collision of fate. you were simply there, an echo in the places he passed through, a constant presence in a world that had yet to root him in place. you took him in, nothing more than an agreement of a helping hand. hinata washed dishes, swept floors, folded clothes with hands used to spiking.

and hinata did not know when the shift happened.  when your voice became the thing he sought at the end of the day, when your presence became something he could not bear to go without. he did not know when his heart, which had always belonged to the game, had made room for something else. for someone else.

but he knew this: he could not stay. he had not come here to love. he had come here to learn. he had always known this, of course, had told himself as much from the moment he stepped off the plane. he had counted down the days—not because he wanted to leave, but because he knew he had to. he was here to train, to become the best version of himself, to sharpen his skills so that when he returned to japan, he would be unstoppable.

but how could he leave when you were here? when he could no longer separate the rush of a perfect spike from the rush of your laughter? when the love he did not know he was capable of had already settled in his bones, warm and steady and unshakable?

to remain would mean letting go of the very thing that had brought him here in the first place. and yet—

when he looked at you, he wondered if there was a way to do both.

kageyama ✦︎ rivals to lovers

talent is cruel. it grants gifts without fairness, without reason, and it does not care for the hands that stretch toward it, desperate, aching.

kageyama tobio was given everything. his body was built for this, his mind wired for precision. he does not need to reach, to strain, to break himself apart just to touch the edge of greatness. but you—

you were not. you were not sculpted by gods or kissed by fate. every inch you have climbed has been paid for in blood, in breathless nights, in the weight of your own limits threatening to pull you down. you have fought for every second on the court, for every fleeting moment where it feels like you belong.

he notices you because you are loud in your defiance, because you refuse to bow, even when the game reminds you of your place. and it frustrates him, the way you do not yield. the way you chase him, even when the world tells you you’ll never win.

you have always believed that hard work was work enough—that if you ran fast enough, pushed hard enough, wanted it badly enough, you could close the space between yourself and everyone else. but kageyama was born standing where you fought to be.

he has never known the hunger that gnaws at your ribs, the way defeat carves itself into your bones like a second skeleton. where you claw your way forward, he soars, effortless, unattainable. the court bends for him, the ball obeys his command, and you are forever damned to watch.

at first, it’s contempt. then, it’s curiosity. and then, it’s something else, something that settles in the spaces between rivalry and something softer. something that lingers in the silence of long bus rides to tokyo, in the accidental brush of shoulders, in the way his gaze finds you in a crowded court.

he does not speak of it, and neither do you. not when he looks for your gaze in the aftermath of a game, even if you spent most of it warming his part of the bench. not when you meet him halfway, your breath sharp, your heart louder than the crowd. not when the distance between you is no longer a battlefield, but something fragile, something waiting to be named.

maybe this was never about winning. maybe this was never about talent or passion, about what was given and what was taken. maybe this was only ever about the chase.

and maybe—just maybe—he doesn’t mind being caught.

tsukishima kei ✦︎ forced proximity.

hate was not a strong enough word for what you felt about tsukishima kei of class four.

you were mature enough not to fall for his taunts, his sneers and side remarks. you barely ever spoke to each other during practice, and only said what you needed to any other time. nothing more, nothing less.

so when daichi handed you the bus seating chart and tsukishima’s name stared back at you, you nearly turned around and stayed home. eight hours from iwate to tokyo, plus stops. and he was the only space left beside you. you didn’t complain. not to daichi, not to him. you respected them both too much for that. but god, you were already drafting excuses in your head. a fever, maybe. your sudden death.

he didn’t talk. neither did you. the only sounds between you were the low thrum of the engine, the soft chatter of your teammates, and the occasional shift in his long legs as he tried not to touch yours. it was cramped. painfully so. your arms were close enough to brush when the bus hit bumps in the road. your knees kept knocking. every time you moved, he tensed. every time he breathed, you counted the seconds between.

nationals. it should’ve felt exciting. it should’ve felt like triumph. instead, your heart was stuffed with awkwardness, your chest too tight with everything unsaid. tsukishima never liked you. he was polite, just barely, but cold. analytical. never cruel, just… indifferent. and you were tired of pretending it didn’t sting.

the inn was worse. a traditional ryokan; picturesque and paper-thin. there weren’t enough rooms. not enough futons. and when the groups were decided, you and tsukishima found yourselves once again shoulder to shoulder. this time on the floor. this time, no seat belts or armrests between you.

you shifted again, trying not to think about how close his shoulder was to yours.

“can you stop shifting around?” he whispered.

you turned, face scrunched as you tried not to jump him right then and there surrounded by your teammates.. “can you stop acting like i’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“you aren’t.”

and, before you could interject, turn around and wrap your hands around his throat;

“i just don’t like this kind of closeness.” his voice dropped lower. “not with people i don’t understand.”

“tsukishima.” you tried, voice tentative as you figured out what exactly you were feeling in this moment. “you never let me.”

he turned his head, voice barely audible. “you never gave me a reason to.”

for once, you had nothing to say. you slept facing opposite directions, but you both stopped pretending.

yamaguchi tadashi ✦︎ unrequited pining.

unlovable people aren’t supposed to look at each other like that.

he watches you from behind his locker door, the metal slats slicing his view in half, as if the universe itself is trying to protect him from getting too close. you’re standing by the window, head tilted just slightly, bathed in that awful morning light that makes the classroom feel lonelier than it should.

you’re always like that—quiet, eyes turned down, sleeves tugged over your knuckles like you’re trying to disappear into yourself. you rarely speak unless someone addresses you directly, and even then your replies are short. curt. forgettable.

but yamaguchi never forgets.

he knows you aren’t the kind of person stories are written about. and he knows he isn’t either. you’re not loud. not remarkable. not beautiful in a way that catches people’s attention. not smart like tsukki, not athletic like hinata, not the kind of person who draws a crowd without trying.

and yet—your silence terrifies him.

 because it means you’re close enough to touch. and still entirely out of reach.

you should be attainable. reachable. understandable. he should be able to stand next to you and not tremble. he should be able to ask you for help with homework, or lend you his notes without second-guessing the way his hand shakes when he offers them. he should be able to give you a juicebox at lunch without planning the moment ten times over in his head and still bailing out.

but he can’t.

because the only memory he has of being near you—the only real one—was that day on the playground. a group of boys had pushed him down, spit cruel things between their teeth, and yamaguchi had curled inward, waiting for the worst of it to end.

and then, you.

you didnt shout. didnt throw a punch, didnt so much as move a finger. you just walked past, sharp and deliberate. and somehow, it was enough, scattering like birds on a wire. all you had done was help him up, not even asking his name or making eye contact before you left.

but yamaguchi never forgot. he still dreams about it, sometimes. not so much the fear, or the venom. just the moment your hand closed around his.

he’s never found the words to thank you, even all these years later.

and maybe thats his problem.

he thinks maybe he’d rather stay quiet forever, if it means holding onto the version of you that still looks back at him.

even if it’s only in a dream.

[kivaember]

Warframe - dog or not

@tea-pizzaz "you mentioned drifter playing dog or not with the hex a while back and i’ve been enamored with the idea ever since 👉👈 casual hangouts with no ulterior motives aside from bonding my beloved."

i also love casual hangouts with no ulterior motives... ok here we go!

-

"I think everyone is playing a joke on me."

Arthur didn't look up from where he was organising the mission inventory (which was just a janitor's closet haphazardly filled with smoke grenades, actual grenades, ammunition, etcetera (a literal fire hazard)). Drifter was meant to be helping him organise too, but they were instead sulking by the door, staring broodingly into space.

Any other time, Arthur would be concerned. He'd also be quick to reassure them, or even talk them through why they felt the way they did - it was just that this time, well...

"Are you still mad about losing Dog or Not?" Arthur asked idly.

"There is no way that was a dog!" Drifter harrumphed. "No way! it looked like a tamm- er, sheep! Whatever! A not-dog!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but..." Arthur looked up, keeping his face completely straight as he said: "It was a dog, mate. That's just facts. You may as well admit defeat."

Drifter puffed out their cheeks - an adorable, childish pout that did nothing to hide the way their face was turning a bright shade of red. "Then- then why was it all- fluffy like that? It had wool!"

"Its fur's just all curly. It's not wool."

"And its face was shaped all- weird!"

"Dogs come in a range of shapes and sizes. You know that."

"Your dogs are mutants," Drifter sniffed. "Kubrows are a lot more consistent with their bodyplan. You know what a Kubrow is when you see it."

"Ah, yes, the Kubrow..." Arthur drawled. "The aggressively genetically engineered Kubrow. I wonder why they all look really similar to each other?"

"Shut up." Drifter was starting to look more embarrassed than sulky. "It's not my fault that you guys bred your dogs to be basically different species from each other."

Arthur could go into an explanation on how, actually, nature did that, thanks (well, mostly), but he could tell when Drifter was just whining for the sake of it. For all of their level-headedness when it came to acting as an emotional rock to others, Drifter could be really bratty when they felt embarrassed or slighted. The less said about the "Go Incident", the better.

"You don't have anything like it in the future?" Arthur asked. "Ignoring the Kubrows for a second, what about those... kavats, or whatever?"

"They all share the same bodyplan too. There are variations between different types, but you can still look at it and be like, oh yeah, that's a kavat."

Drifter paused before letting out a semi-amused huff. "All that 'aggressive genetic engineering', I guess."

"Well, it's like that with us when it comes to dogs. You just know a dog when you see it." Arthur scratched the back of his neck. "Mostly."

"Mostly? Even you get caught out?"

Arthur coughed. "Well..."

"Yeah?"

"Not going to lie... I thought that dog was a sheep too, for a moment."

"SEE! I told you it's not just me! Your dogs are messed up!"

"Only a few of them!"

"All of them are weird! What about the- one with the super short legs? The sausage dogs? Or- or the ones with the squashed in faces that can't breathe! Or the long boy!?"

"The- who? Long boy?" Arthur repeated, thoroughly baffled yet amused. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that. There're a lot of long dogs." Like the aforementioned sausage dog.

"It's like..." Drifter gestured nonsensically. "Long. Super skinny. Kinda resembles the ghost of a haunted widow."

Arthur was just more confused. "What kind of dogs have you been looking at???"

"Wait, let me get a picture and show you," Drifter said, and ran off.

"Wh- Drifter! We're working! The invent... ugh." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, Drifter long gone - and leaving Arthur to finish the rest of the work. "Bloody idiot."

Well, it wasn't as if Drifter was being much use in the first place. Arthur continued in organising and taking stock, and it was by the time he'd finished and was locking up the closet that Drifter came jogging back, holding aloft an open encyclopedia like it was the holy grail.

"I found it! Behold, the long boy!" Drifter yelled, and thrust the book into Arthur's face.

Arthur took a step back and looked, taking in the picture of............

"That's a borzoi," he said.

"Right. Long boy."

"Borzoi. Borzoi. Not long boy."

"Long boy."

"Borzoi."

Drifter was grinning, a mischievous curl of their mouth with their eyes glittering. "Long boy."

Arthur sighed heavily, and let it go. "Whatever. Anyway, if you think that's weird, then look up 'Puli'."

"Puli?" Drifter began flicking through the encyclopedia. "Puli, puli..."

Arthur started to walk away. It was only when he was about to round a corner that he heard Drifter exclaim: "That's not a dog, that's a fucking mop!"

Arthur smiled.

Heh. Never got old.

[gravehags]

Prompt time? Hmmm...How about Copia drunk tricycling in the hallways, so Natalie has to come get him and take him back to their room?

When Natalie’s phone starts vibrating at 1:24 am her first, idiotic, 85% asleep thought is that it’s her Hitachi. Reaching behind her she smacks at the air where her boyfriend should be.

“Babe, turn my vibrator off,” she slurs. When it dawns on her that her hand is not connecting with the solid form of Cardinal Copia Emeritus, she starts. She realizes finally that it’s her phone buzzing next to her head and, filled with sudden, deep dread, she looks at who is calling. The screen shows a meme of Pitbull and reads “Signore Worldwide.” Fumbling in the dark she answers it.

“Secondo wh—“

She doesn’t even get to air out her horrible, anxiety-driven fear when he cuts her off with a gravelly voice showing that he too was asleep.

“Your fucking idiot just crashed into my door singing Phil Collins. Again.”

Natalie winces as she throws back the covers.

“On it. Is he still there?”

“I can still hear him half-yelling the words to ‘In the Air Tonight’ so I’d hazard a guess that yes, he is still fucking out there.”

“Don’t be rude,” Natalie snaps as she tugs her robe on, “can you at least go make sure he didn’t hurt himself?”

“No.”

Natalie is about to let loose a torrent of foul language the likes of which the abbey has never heard but anticipating this, he hangs up.

“Bald old cunt,” she growls, padding into the living room and heading out the door. No one is wandering the halls at this ungodly hour and Secondo’s wing is equally and eerily quiet. Or at least it would be if Natalie couldn’t hear the off-key, decidedly drunken warbling of her lover. True to Secondo’s word she sees the tricycle, jammed against the ornately carved door and also sees Copia, still in his cassock and on his back. His biretta lies roughly ten feet away from the scene of the crime and as she approaches him, Natalie idly wonders how he managed to fling it that far. He’s at the part in the song with the iconic drum solo so she patiently waits for him to finish pounding on his invisible drum kit and messily mimicking the noise, spittle flying everywhere. He’s about to start singing again when she stands above him. The song dies on his lips as he gazes up at her, blinking owlishly with his white eye gleaming.

“Oh signorina, you…you’re beautiful.”

Natalie snorts.

“You’re too kind, Your Eminence,” she purrs, trying to muffle her grin.

“No, no, no,” he breathes, “look at you…the long, dark curls, those big pale green eyes…and oh that shape!” he raises his hands and traces an hourglass with a low whistle, “mi dispiace for my lewdness but I have never seen a creature the likes of you before!”

Natalie can’t help but preen as she reaches out a hand and struggles to lift him off the floor and onto his feet.

“You must be careful, Your Eminence,” she murmurs, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him slowly down the hall. The tricycle and biretta can wait until morning. Everyone will know whose it is anyway. “You see, my lover, he is a very jealous man.”

Copia sways on his feet.

“Who is the bastard?” he demands, “I will best him in combat for your hand.”

Natalie laughs out loud.

“Cardinal, you couldn’t even best that wall back there. But no matter, let me spirit you away to my bedchamber where you can prove your adoration to me there.”

He lets out a gasp and firmly grasps her hand.

“There is not a moment to lose then! Come!”

The breath is knocked from Natalie’s lungs, and potentially her arm from its socket, as Copia launches into a run and drags her with him. She’s laughing hysterically and knows she should be quiet as they bound through the halls but she can’t help herself. When they arrive at his quarters, panting, his face falls.

“Ah, I seem to have brought you to my quarters,” he says, disappointed. She tilts his chin up to meet her gaze.

“What a fortuitous coincidence, then, that they also happen to be my quarters.”

“You—but—“

She opens the door and ushers him inside, positively enchanted with how adorably befuddled he looks.

“I told you, Cardinal, I have a very jealous lover,” she says, guiding him into their bedroom, “did I neglect to mention he’s also devilishly handsome and smart and kind? And that he’s also you?”

She smiles at the way his lips form the word “me?” as her fingers begin to undo the buttons on his cassock in a well-practiced dance.

“What’s my name, Copia Emeritus?” she asks, pulling the garment over his head. He wanders over to the bed and sits down in a daze. A goofy smile spreads across his face as he watches her kneel to remove his shoes.

“Natalia,” he breathes, and it’s so reverent she has to remind herself who is kneeling at the foot of who, “oh my Natalia.”

“Very good,” she smiles, stripping off his socks and tossing them aside. “If you had said any other name your ass would have been tossed back in the hallway from whence you came.”

He laughs. When she stands to go to the bathroom, his hands grab at the space she just vacated. She returns, damp rag in hand, and gently removes his paints until the beautiful face of the man she loves stares up at her.

“I’m—“ he hiccups, “really drunk.”

She boops the end of his nose with a neatly manicured finger.

“You sure the fuck are, my love.”

“I don’t wanna be anymore.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling. We have some options: first of all I’m going to hydrate you, but after that we can either take a shower or go sit on the couch or go to bed. Up to you.”

A lecherous smile spreads across his face.

“I can have you in any of those places,” he purrs, “so really it’s up to you, amore: where would you most like to be fucked?”

Now there’s a thought. One that stirs heat at the juncture of her thighs but Copia’s expression shifts and she’s by his side instantly, the two of them running to the toilet where he loudly and violently empties his stomach. She sighs and fetches another cold rag after flushing and dabs at his mouth.

“Is this the man you fell in love with?” Copia asks, his head thunking backwards against the wall. Natalie looks at him: looks at the deathly pale face, the watery mismatched eyes, and the bit of vomit on his face that she missed.

“Yeah, actually,” she says. “I fell in love with every version of this man that there is.”

He smiles softly up at her.

“You’ve got puke in your mustache, by the way,” she grins, throwing the rag at him and laughing as he squawks indignantly.

“I’m going to get you some water. Don’t go anywhere.”

He lets out a miserable groan. Natalie makes a mental note to give him shit about drinking and triking.

[clowncanvas]

🏫Scotty Stuffy🏫

Lore & About under the Keep Reading ! Pronouns for Scotty: He/They !

Scotty Stuffy is based off of in the 1970s / 1980s Sesame Street where real life adults would mentor and teach the puppets. Instead of a house, his "Home" much like Howdy and Eddie's place, is his occupation, which is a school house. Scotty is a teacher in the WH universe, he is a soft mentor / caretaker character but unlike Wally who has inspiration of some caretaker-type character's, Wally also brings a very naïve and almost child-like behaviour to him, which is great in a way for children to find relation in Wally, but on Scotty's terms, Scotty is meant to be more mature, playing more into that caretaker and mentor behaviour, unlike Wally, he isn't someone that is arguably naïve or child-like, he is intending to be someone to emulate actual adults and how adults should behave around children (the target audience of Welcome Home as a show being children) The idea of the target audience isn't to see themselves in him like Wally, Julie, Sally, etc, Scotty is meant to be looked up to in a way to teach children of how they should be treated. Scotty mentors in a very soft but encouraging way, he shows patience and knowledge but in a way adults are meant to be towards children and shows parental / caretaker attributes to those around him. (Ex: Kneeling to the smaller puppet's height to get eye-to-eye to them, much how you're supposed to talk to children, tying their shoelaces, wiping their faces if dirty.)

Scotty also knows ASL, to take inspiration on a segment of 1970s Sesame Street once more, there were segments of adults teaching ASL to children, Scotty is to continue that on his little segments of his show, he is usually seen with other Neighbours in placement of children, and teaching gently and in a clear, easy manner that relate to the Neighbours distinct hobbies, (ex: teaching Wally about mixing colours) Scotty takes great care in his community, if not teaching, he can be seen giving those like Howdy Eddie, and Poppy, an extra hand. Thank You For Reading, Neighbour!

[welcomehome-confessions]

Something that makes me feel upset is when I see big WH Artists on here show off the wrong thing to do, when the first Wally makeship plushie dropped, I saw one that I followed and looked up to show their knock-off version if it, it was plainly obvious, and nobody in the notes seemed to point out it's a plain violation of Clown's boundaries, I ended up telling everyone in there that that plushie is in fact not the official one in case they were wondering, trying to be as neutral as possible, cause I was scared I was going to get mauled by their fanbase, anyways, it still makes me so sad, I feel like most people forgot about his boundaries or simply do not care just because they want things so badly, Clown doesn't deserve this

-I think that if you already own WH knock of plushies or unofficial WH merch, it’s important to at least be transparent about it. I can understand the side of it where your desperate for merch, or missed out on the makeship plushies. Trust me I’ve missed out on all of them cuz I’m broke every single time, but here comes my next point. What I do, rather than buying a knock off or unofficial stuff, is make my own. I try and learn to make or DIY my own plush, blanket, print, a tshirt, etc. for MYSELF. Not to sell, never to sell. So that’s my advice for y’all, knock offs and unofficial merch aren’t your only option. Learn how to sew, draw or Commission art that you can then have made into a personal piece for yourself. That way you are respecting clown, not supporting these items, and are able to have things of your faves. Just make sure you’re making it for yourself, and not to sell.

-Pierrot

[universefcb]

hi, hi, hi <3 so i have a request for lamine actually, where his gf could be a hair-dresser in training (like she goes to cosmetology school), so usually it's her doing with lamine's hair, but once because of her busy schedule with school, her work in a salon, she wasn't able to do his hair, and when she sees his new hair that are bleached and all, she almost got a heart attack, before going full hair freak about hair care, toning and all that.

HAIRDRESSER, LAMINE YAMAL.

→ Summary: You're a hairdresser, and he touches your hair without you knowing. And you freak out.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Spanish phrases. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: He looked so attractive with that hair...

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

It was strange for her to go so many days without touching his hair.

A cosmetology student in her third semester, she divided her routine between college, her internship at a well-known salon in the city, and the regular clients she was slowly starting to win over — like the lady with the impeccable bob haircut every Tuesday, or the girl who dyed her hair pink every two weeks. But there was one client who would always be her favorite.

Lamine Yamal.

The boyfriend who was also her "guinea pig", her reason for studying, her personal role model. Since they started dating, he never touched another professional in the field. He only let her cut, care for, moisturize and massage his hair. Sometimes it wasn't even necessary: he would pretend that his hair looked strange just to get an hour with her, soft hands in his strands and the calm conversation they had while the world spun too fast.

But that week, her world was spinning too fast.

She didn't even have time to notice. She woke up early for class, ate lunch in a hurry, flew to the salon, barely breathing between one client and the next. Lamine sent her loving messages, silly videos, memes on Instagram. She responded with heart, sending a hurried audio message: "I love you, okay? I'll breathe next week."

Little did he know that his hair was no longer the same.

Friday came with a brief respite: a client canceled, and she decided to go straight home. In her pajamas, with her hair tied up and a makeshift face mask, she threw herself on the couch with the perfect plan: to rest. She was putting on an episode of her favorite series when she heard the doorbell.

“Strange…” he muttered.

She opened the door, her face still covered in green clay, certain that she would find the doorman, or some package. Instead, it was him. Your boyfriend. Laminate. With a smile so innocent it almost fooled her.

Until she saw the hair.

“Wh... what?” the word choked in his throat.

The reaction was as quick as the blow. She let go of the doorknob, her eyes widened, and instinctively put her hands over her mouth. Because there, before her, was Lamine Yamal's hair... bleached. A light blonde, yellowish at the ends, with some noticeable stains at the roots.

“Lamine…” she muttered, horrified. “Did you bleach your hair?”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“So... you were busy, and I thought, like... why not, right? I wanted a change.”

She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes for a second. Then she opened them.

“AND YOU THOUGHT DOING THIS WITHOUT ME WAS A GOOD IDEA?”

“Calm down, love. I…”

“Calm down?! You let someone touch your hair fiber! Do you know what a hair fiber is, Lam? This here” she pointed to the lighter part of her bangs “is hanging by a thread. Literally.”

He took a step back. He had never seen her so possessed by a hair entity.

“I swear I wore a mask afterwards, love.”

“What kind of mask? Moisturizing? Nourishing? Reconstructive? Do you know what condition your hair was in before? Did you do a strand test? Did you use blue or white powder? How much oxidant did you use?”

He blinked.

“It smelled like... grapes?”

She put her hand on her heart.

“You’re going to kill me.”

Ten minutes later, Lamine was sitting on the kitchen chair, wrapped in a pink towel, with a bottle of water in his hand and the expression of a failed student.

She had set up a makeshift counter with all the products she loved: masks, oils, ampoules. The laundry room cupboard became a mini emergency salon.

She walked over, put on gloves, and grabbed a lock of hair.

“It’s elastic,” he said, testing its strength. “And porous. It’ll take weeks to recover. And look at this… this color is terrible, Lam. It’s egg yolk yellow.”

“I thought it was kind of Neymar, you know?”

She stared at him.

“Never do that again.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You cheated on me with another professional.”

“It was once.”

“It still hurts.”

She took a deep breath and began the process: she applied a pre-moisturizer with vegetable oils, massaged it carefully, moved on to deep nourishment, and brushed it gently. Lamine closed his eyes sometimes, as if he were in heaven.

“I like it when you take care of me like this,” he murmured.

She smiled, despite her initial anger.

“I like taking care of you. But let me do it right, Lam. Your hair is my art. And you’re my final project, okay?”

“So if I get ten, you win too?”

“I get more than that,” he replied, leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of her blond head. “I get you back, with healthy hair.”

He smiled.

“What if I want to paint it pink later?”

“Only if I do. And only after a full schedule. Of eight weeks.”

“Then it’s better to stay brown.”

Hours later, with damp, treated hair, toned with a cooler blonde and his scalp intact, Lamine looked at himself in the mirror.

“Wow. I look handsome.”

“Now yes,” she crossed her arms, satisfied.

“I think I should pay you.”

“Do you already repay me with love?” she replied, putting her arms around him.

“But I can do something special to say thank you…”

"Type?"

He smiled, gently pulling her by the waist.

“Be quiet while you apply the ampoules next time.”

She pretended to think.

“Hm. A man who obeys the hairdresser is a sexy man.”

“Then I guess you’re in luck.”

She laughed, kissing him slowly.

“I have the best client in the world. Even though he almost threw a fit.”

“But now my hair is yours. Only yours.”

“It always was.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[kyokutsu-sama]

The promise

Sanemi x f!reader

A/n: Please someone stop me from writing all the ideas I have in mind for this man cause I can't😮‍💨 And I have a ton of them.

Tw: Nsfw

A year had passed since that fateful day, the day that changed the lives of all the survivors of that battle, the day that was forever marked in their souls. No one would have to fear the demons in the dead of night anymore, but the survivors were marked by the losses and the blood, sweat and tears shed on that bloody battlefield. Everyone was gone that day, well...almost everyone. There were still a minority of survivors and witnesses of that day.

You were one of those survivors who had moved to an isolated house in the mountains, far from the world and far from people, living a peaceful life, the life you always wanted to have. Even though there was something missing by your side to complete it. But you didn't know where he was, you didn't know how to get to his whereabouts or when you would see him again.

A lot had happened, you two were young when you met in the Slayer Corps, even before you both become hashiras. It all started with a simple look and then a shy smile until you got to the escapes in the middle of the night through the forests or in his state when you become hashiras. You loved each other more than you wanted to say. It started out as just a friendship with benefits and later both of you began to realize that it was much more than that and when you looked at him for the last time in that battle, he made a promise to you.

"Even if you leave this battlefield now, even if you go on with your normal life after this, even if you run away, I will find you and I'll marry you. No matter how long it takes to find you." He said, looking deep into your teary eyes."And if I can't bring you back, I'll come find you in the next life."

"You'll always be mine, wherever you go..."

You were sitting on the engawa, looking at the trees swaying in the wind while you drank tea. The strong wind only made you remember him even more, after all, he was the wind pillar, your first and last love.

"Are you still looking for me?" You wondered, taking a sip of tea

"Had he forgotten? Had he found someone else to live a new life with? Would he have given up on his own feelings for you?"

With no answers, you remained. Looking at the sky and wondering if he was really yours, or if you were his. You couldn't deny that you considered yourself his, your heart, your body, all his. You didn't look at anyone else the way you looked at him, he was the only one in the world for you. But he was somewhere, in some house, sleeping, training, eating, living his normal life just like you.

You wondered if he also thought about you, if he still wanted that, if he still wanted to marry you. Your hopes never died, you never lost hope. You just wanted to see him again, look him in the eyes and go back to living those days.

Unfortunately, you couldn't do anything else than leave the battlefield looking at him with eyes full of tears, it was as if you didn't know how to say goodbye or decide what you would be after that day. You were confused and that's why you decided to take a break. It was good for you too, to organize your thoughts and to know if you really wanted that. But now, you realized... You realized that you wanted to have him forever.

You found yourself longing for his voice, his touch, his arms hugging you and keeping you safe, for you to run your fingers through his hair, for his broad, sweaty body on top of you and for the way he kissed you.

You closed your eyes thinking about all those times you two were together and the way he made you feel so good that you just begged for more.

You placed the cup on the small tray next to you and picked it up to take it to the kitchen. After placing it on the counter, you heard someone knocking and looked at the front door. You weren't expecting anyone but even so, you decided to check. When you opened the door, your heart sank right there when you saw the person in front of you.

It couldn't be...

Sanemi was standing at your door looking at you and you at him, his hair was a little shorter and both his eyes and the expression on his face seemed calmer than when he was an hashira. As much as you tried to hold back your emotion, you couldn't stop a small tear from running down your cheek, and when he noticed it, he slowly brought his hand up to your face and wiped it away, and you blushed. The fingers were still as calloused as last time but the touch seemed softer, causing you to shiver and another tear to fall.

You couldn't tell how much you missed him before, but as soon as you saw him, you realized that the longing not only was ridiculously big, but also heavy and that it carried you in its heart.

You couldn't put into words how much you missed him before, but after seeing him, you not only noticed that it was much bigger and heavier than you imagined, and that was why your heart felt so heavy.

"You're still as crybaby as ever, aren't you?"He joked, getting a tiny smile from you."Come on, you don't have to cry."

Even his voice seemed calmer than before, although he couldn't help but tease you.

"I know, it's just..." You sniffed, his fingers running over your cheeks and wiping away the tears. "Thanks. It's just that I was happy to see you again. Come in." You invited him in

He then entered the house and you closed the door, seeing him standing there looking at you. Not only did he look different but his appeareance also looked more mature than it had been a year ago.

"How could he, at 22, look so different from when he was 21? It was only a year!" you thought

Well, he always had strong masculine features but now they seemed even more attractive.

"So...how did you find me here?" You asked, breaking the silence between you both

"I told you before, I would find you wherever you were." His eyes looked so sincere now that even made your skin crawl. He wasn't joking around when said that.

"Yeah, I remember you saying that after the battle." You looked down, remembering that moment. "I was so lost, so devastated, knowing that our comrades died right in front of us, knowing that they would never come back..."The tears fell once more. "And that I could have lost you that day scared me and made me want to run away from there so I wouldn't have to witness that." Sanemi looked at you, feeling his heart tighten, seeing you crying like that

He could understand your side, he also never wanted you to be alone on the battlefield or with anyone other than him on missions. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you that day. He already blamed himself for all the deaths of those close to him, especially that of his younger brother who he tried to protect but failed.

He just wanted to die that night.

But knowing that there was still you and that there were no more demons was a hope for him. He just wanted to make all those days by your side worthwhile and finally live the life he always wanted.

"I spent a year alone, living here and thinking about everything that happened and somehow I managed to organize myself even after that tragic day that marked us for the rest of our lives."You looked up at him

"And what did you think about?"

"You." You confessed and that's when his eyes widened a little, surprised by the confession. "I thought about you a lot, Sanemi. I thought about our life before the last battle that would dictate our victory, I thought about the first day we met, about every day we talked, the nights we spent together. All those moments still live in my mind. I don't know about you but I thought about meeting you again so we could talk about us and to know if...if now we can finally live the good life you dreamed of?"

He didn't answer, instead, he just took slow steps towards you, running his hand over your cheek and looking at you.

"That's why I came after you. Did you think I was some coward and would go back on my word? Never."He shook his head and you curved your lips into a tiny smile

"That makes me even more proud of you. I couldn't wait to see you again so we could sort out the things that were pending."

"There's nothing pending between us. You're mine and I'm yours. End of conversation." He said before grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you

You rested your hands on his shoulders, feeling your knees go weak at the sudden and intense way his lips caught you off guard. You missed those lips so much, so much that you didn't want to break that kiss any time soon.

You ran a hand through his hair, tilting your head to the side, allowing his tongue to met yours. He brought his free hand to your waist, pulling your body closer until your chest was brushing against his, even the air in the room seemed hotter since he had kissed you.

"I missed you."He pulled your lip as he broke the kiss for a moment to whisper those words

"I've longed for you so much, for you to make me yours again and again." You confessed, kissing him with the same intensity

"I can see that someone had some fantasies all this time." He grinned against your lips

"You have no idea, Nemi." You panted. "You have no idea of ​​the things I've thought about doing with you."

"Fuck, me too." He growled, taking off the top of his uniform

"You're still wearing it even after the last battle?"

"This one will always be my favorite." He threw it back to some corner before kissing you

"Not gonna lie but you look too damn attractive wearing this." You pulled his lower lip

"That's why you almost drooled when I walked by you, isn't it?" He teased and you patted his shoulder

"Don't get to cocky."

"Shut up, brat."

He ran his hands through the sash that held your kimono and untied it, taking it off and revealing your half-naked body. His hands went down to the back of your thighs and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and your hands holding his shoulders.

"Where is your bedroom?" He asked in the middle of the kiss

"That door." You pointed and he went there, with you in his arms

He laid you down on the futon and went to close the door, you leaned on your forearms watching his beautiful figure walking towards you with a little smile on your lips.

"I hope there's no one else living around here, because I don't want you to hold back those pretty sounds." He warned and you just chuckled

"Don't worry, there's no one but the trees and the birds to hear us."You assured

"Good to know." He lay down next to you, one forearm passing under your head as he resumed his previous make-out session

His other hand slid over your breasts, massaging them both, drawing a soft moan from your lips. Your back arched slightly at his touch, you had one hand passing over his shoulder blade while the other held the sheet.

His hand went down your belly until it reached the middle of your legs, which you opened a little more for him. He ran his fingers up and down, over the damp spot on the fabric of your panties and you whimpered against his lips, lifting your hips a little against his fingers.

"So wet, I bet you've been soaking since you saw me." He whispered and you moaned softly as you felt him press his fingers against your clothed entrance

He moved away from your swollen lips to kneel between your legs, he removed your panties in a quick movement and bent down to suck on your flesh, which made you arch and bring your hands to his hair, your mouth fall open to let out a soft moans and cries.

"Fuck!"You hissed

He kept his hands on your thighs to spread them open and expose you to him, his lips passing over your clit to kiss it, the tip of his tongue occasionally licking and slurping were driving you crazy.

He didn't seem to have lost his way of making you feel so pleased even after an year, and the longing also made him hungrier.

One of his hands now went to help his mouth, using two fingers to penetrate your slippery hole. You moaned at the way they worked in and out of you, scissoring inside your walls while he continued to suck you, his other hand slid to your waist, keeping it there.

"Ahh~ Nemi...I'm gonna..."You tilted your head back on the pillow

He just kept speeding up his work, eager for you to come so he could taste you. One hand was grabbing his white hair while the other grabbed the pillow behind you, trying to relieve the burning sensation you felt inside that was making you sweat and begging for more.

His eyes went up and he was delighted to see you rolling your eyes and your body responding so well to what he was doing. It didn't take long for you to spill all over his fingers and into his mouth, savoring every drop. He licked his fingers and lips, looking at your flushed face.

Oh, he was just getting started...

"Seeing you like this reminds me of those nights." He said, licking his lips with a smirk."Fuck, I really missed that."

"Yeah? Did you think about having me like this again?" You ran your foot lightly over the bulge in his pants and he groaned. "Did you miss our nights?" You bit your bottom lip and looked at his face seeing the expression of pleasure

"Don't tease me like that." He said through clenched teeth

You giggled before kneeling on the mattress and bringing your hands to his belt. He looked down and seeing your lustful eyes on his, your hands taking off his belt and pulling down his pants, made his hard cock twitch. He helped you take off the rest of his pants, throwing them aside and sitting back on his heels, spreading his bent legs to give you more space.

You brought a hand to his cock that was already dripping and curved, stroking it as your lips were on his neck, kissing and biting his skin, leaving some marks there like he had done to you before. Your mouth went down his chest and kissed along the scars that crossed there, scars where you had passed your hands so many times, running over each one of them.

"Your scars are still as hot as ever."You whispered, leaving open-mouthed kisses along his chest

He simply melted every time you praised, kissed or touched his scars. There was no one else he would allow to touch them but you.

You moved down until you were in front of his cock and licked the slit a few times before sucking his head, eliciting some groans from him. He brought one hand to your hair and rested the other on the mattress.

"That's it...sucking me so well...just like that, baby." He moaned softly, wrapping your hair on his fist and making you take him deeper into your throat

You brought your hand to grab his thick thigh and the other to caress his leght, removing your mouth from his dick to catch your breath and returning soon after to take him as deep again. A few tears came to your eyes when the tip touched your throat and that was when his hips began grinding against your mouth, making you roll your eyes.

The heat between your legs was building and your walls were clenching around nothing and throbbing for attention, you couldn't wait to take him inside.

When he got close, he pushed you away by your hair and you gave a soft yelp. He moved his hand from your hair to hold your face, running his thumb over your swollen lips and placing it in your mouth and you gave it a light bite.

How he missed that playfully, teasing smile and your eyes on his.

"Turn around." He ordered and you did so, promptly

You arched your back and stretched your arms forward, spreading your legs and looking back to see him right behind you, one of his hands held his cock and ran it along your slit, opening your wet folds to tease you.

"Nemi...please." You whimpered, moving against him

"Dirty girl, do you want me inside you? Do you want to feel this here?" He said, inserting the tip and pulling it out right after, making your hole tighten

"Yeah, fuck! I want it." You whimpered against the sheets, rubbing your hips against his, and he smirked

"You drive me crazy like this."He said before before filling you completely with just one strong, deep thrust, making you scream and roll your eyes

He stayed like that for a moment, remembering how good it felt, how he missed being inside you. You bit the pillow as you adjusted to his size once more, he was big and it's been a year since you two had something.

"You're still tight as always." He sighed, holding your hips and starting to move slowly

You held onto the sheets in front of you, feeling him going in and out of your dripping hole, making your body shiver and your eyes roll back.

"Oh! Yeah~ that's good... That's so good."You whimpered

He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, one hand on your hip and the other resting on the mattress. His hot, panting breath next to your ear sent shivers down your body. You turned your head toward him, who kissed your neck and then your lips while rolling his hips against yours.

He then lean back again and grabbed your hair, pulling your body against his chest without losing the rhythm of his movements. One arm held you by the chest and the other went down, using his hand to play with your clit, making you tighten around him and buck your hips.

You laid your head against his shoulder, the moans coming from your lips motivating him to go faster, one hand reaching behind and grabbing his hair and the other holding his wrist as his fingers rubbed your sensitive spot faster. His hips worked deeper and made you feel close again, he distributed wet kisses against your neck while using his other hand to play with your breasts, pulling the hard nipples lightly between his fingers, stimulating you even more.

He could feel that you were almost on the edge and thrusted you even harder. How he missed feeling you on the edge and the way you look right now. You hissed and cry feeling his fingers on your bud estimulating you even more as you came in his leght.

He then changed position, lifting your hips to pulled away from you and weak cry left your mouth at the sudden change and turned you to face him. He thrusted you again, holding your body close to his with his strong arms. You held his shoulders, leaning your forehead against his and moaning as you felt his hips move beneath you again. Your nails dug into his large shoulder blades, drawing red lines that he would later have the pleasure of admiring. You were still overstimulated from the previous orgasm and with all that pace and the way he was pleasing you, you could fill yourself in the edge again. Your head tilted back, exposing your neck to him so he could kiss it and mark it.

A wave of pleasure had been passing through you, not only for you but also for him, who had dreamed so much of finding you and being able to have you again.

Just the two of you, alone and away from the world. Again.

"Nemi...I'm cumming again..."You moaned next to his ear, feeling your walls clenching around him and he groaned

"I know, baby. I can feel you're close...ohh Come for me,"He whispered, running his hands over your the flesh of your buttcheeks and digging his fingers there."you're my good girl, go ahead." He brushed his lips against yours and kissed you

You moved one of your hands up to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, feeling yourself squirt on his dick, his deep voice asking you to come had been more than enough for your body to give in.

"I'm close too...fuck, tell me you want this."He growled, his forehead leaned against yours

"I want it...I want you to fill me, please." You sobbed with tears of pleasure, feeling the overstimulation take over you at that moment. "Inside, please." You begged, hugging his body against yours

After hearing you ask for him to come, only made his cock twitch inside your tight walls and spill out soon after, filling you just as you had asked. He panted, his forehead now resting against the valley of your breasts, resting there for a moment, enjoying the good feeling of your fingers running through his fluffy hair.

Both of you were coming down from the high, catching your breath after finally meeting after a year.

"Are they comfortable?" You teased, seeing him between your breasts and he lifted his head to look at your playful smile

He planted a kiss in the middle of them and then another on your lips, his soft side at that moment, different from a year ago, was captivating you even more. Not that he still didn't always keep that scowl and that intensity that he put into everything he did.

He broke the kiss and looked at you with narrowed eyes, one hand moving up to caressed your face gently.

"I'm sorry, I should't left you behind that day, it's just that I couldn't stay there after--" You apologized in a whisper and he kissed you again, not letting you finish

"What matters is that it's all over, and that we are finally together." He said, his thumb running along your jawline and you gave a tiny smile

"Yeah, you're right. I really wanted to know where you were too. But honestly, I thought you had forgotten me that day, or that you had fallen in love with another woman." You pulled your forehead away from his, running your hands over his face, brushing his bangs aside

"Have I fucked that hard for you to went completely crazy, brat?" He raised an eyebrow and you chuckled

"It could happen, I don't know. It was just an idea that crossed my mind." You ran your hands over his broad shoulders, looking into his eyes

He laid you down on the mattress, getting on top of you. You looked at him with the sudden movement and that was when he pulled out of you, seeing the trail that was dripping from your hole, the result of the mess he had made. He pressed what was dripping inside and bent down to kiss your mound and used his tongue to lick from there to the middle of your breasts, kissing the marks he had left there, drawing some low moans from you and making you arch. His tongue went back up to your neck where he placed a kiss and brought his lips to your ear, kissing it too.

"You really think I would choose another woman over you? Tch! You really are an idiot."He whispered

"Well, thank you for keeping your feelings and your word then." You smiled and he pulled your earlobe between his teeth, lightly. "I'm glad to know that I'm still yours."

"And you always will be." He said, looking into your eyes now and kissing your cheek afterwards."And this time I won't let you get away from me again."

"I don't need to run away anymore, I have you by my side now. You're all I want."You declared, cupping his face with your hands and kissing him

"And if you try to run away again, I'll catch you and drag your ass back to me." He stated and you giggled

He kissed your forehead and laid his head in the crook of your neck, letting your arms wrap around him and your fingers trace the scars and muscles of his back. Being in your arms was probably the part he missed the most.

"Do you want to go take a shower, love?"You whispered and he nodded

"Only if you come with me."

"Of course I'll go with you."

After a moment in each other's arms and enjoying the cuddle session, he got up and took you in his arms, walking to the bathroom after you told him where it was.

When your feet touched the floor, you filled the tub with warm water for the bath. He got in first and you got in after him, leaning your back against his chest. He hugged you and kissed the top of your head, staying like that for a while.

"So what have you been doing since a year ago?" You asked, looking up to see his face

"Nothing special. It's been a quiet life, I still train every day and I found a house in a quieter place too." He said, running his fingers through your hair. "But sometimes I still missed going on a mission."He sighed

"Me too, our lives have changed a lot since that day. Things have calmed down and we'll never have to live through that again, which is good."

"Yeah, you're right."

"You also seem to have calmed down a bit, your gaze is softer, I can feel it." You look up, bringing a hand to his face

"Do you think so?"

"I do, they used to carry more hatred and bloodlust. The end of that battle changed you. I changed too."

"I notice that, you also used to torture demons like me."

"Yeah, I did." You giggled

"Do you miss those days?"

"Only our teamwork and our comrades."You lowered your gaze, remembering their deaths

"Me too, they were cool and we were like a family..."He sighed, also feeling bad about the death of his comrades. "At least we have each other." He looked down at you and you smiled, holding his forearm around your waist

"Yes, and wherever they are, they will be happy for us too."You nodded and he leaned to kiss you

After you got out of the bath, you were already preparing the futon for both of you to sleep when you saw him holding his pants, as if he was looking for something in the pockets.

"Are you looking for something?"You asked

He then took the small box out of his pocket and went to you, kneeling next to you and handed you the box that made your heart beat faster.

"Open it." He said and you looked from him to the box, opening it and seeing the shiny ring and feeling a tear fall

"Sanemi..." You hugged him and his lips curved into a smile."It's so beautiful."

"Do you like it?"

"I loved it!" You looked at the jewel still in disbelief."It's amazing."

"That's good to know."He caressed you back. "So, will you marry me?" He asked with a slight blush and you pulled away from the hug, looking into his eyes

"Of course, my love." He took the ring out of the box and put it on your finger and you kissed him afterwards. He pulled you into his lap and you put your arms around his neck.

"I love you so much." You whispered against his lips, with a sob and he wiped away your tears

"Me too."

"Thank you... Thank you for making me so happy." You said through tears

"You're the one who makes me happy, princess." He mumbled and you could see the blush on his face from his own words

"Oh, what happened to the 'brat'?" You giggled and he looked away. "Don't pout, you were just being cute." You turned his face to you again

"I'll save the name for when we have our little ones running around the house." He held your waist and kissed your belly. "Our brats." You giggled at his action and kissed the top of his head

"Yeah, they will be our brats."

[sonic-takeover]

Yay espilverrrrr

*spawns 30 baguettes at their picnic*

- 🥖

*Espio's eyes widen as 30 baguettes rain down from the heavens, landing on their blanket. He and Silver are hanging out in the branches of the tree, talking and holding hands. They both fall silent as they watch the bread pile up below them* Oh chaos.. the crumbs.. where did all of those come from? I guess we have more food for the- ... Silver, are you alright?

... So much bread... So much, Espio.. There's always more bread.. *He grips his hand, staring into his eyes* And it's always in multiples of 15. Always.

...... Perhaps we should head back.. I believe the heat is getting to you.

Aww.. Can we bring the bread home?

Wh..? I thought you were upset about it?

No, just a bit traumatized from eating it so much, haha! I love bread :)

... You're.. Strange. I like you.

*Silver grins* I like you too!

[whirligig-girl]

At time of writing, Kerbal Space Program 1 is on sale for $10 on Steam.

If you have wanted to buy KSP and have never gotten around to it, now would be a good time.

Despite the failure and cancellation of KSP2, KSP1 is still a really great game. I bought it for 18 dollars in 2012, and it remains one of my favorite games of all time and perhaps the most cost effective game purchase I've ever made.

KSP1's development is completely finished, but the modding scene is still going strong.

The DLCs are also available for half price. Here's my thoughts on them:

Making History: adds historical-themed rocket parts in new size categories, and a mission editor that allows you to design mission plans and share them for other players to fly. I do not recommend this one, because the rocket parts have been done better by free mods, and because no one ever ended up using the mission editor since those missions are walled off in their own scenarios and can't be integrated into a normal game.

Breaking Ground: adds sparse rocks and other ground scatters to the surface of planets to be explored by rovers. Much more interestingly, adds robotic parts which can totally change the kinds of vehicles and crafts you can build. I do recommend this, because the addition of robotic parts adds so much to the game.

But the real goodies are in unofficial mods. Here's my absolute must-haves:

Restock: The rocket parts in the stock game are a mix of different styles by different amateur artists who have worked on the game over the years, lacking an overall cohesive style. Restock reskins (but otherwise does not modify) all of the stock parts using new models and textures that bring a cohesive visual identity to KSP that it has sorely missed. The models are higher fidelity in most cases, but they have been made efficiently so that the game will actually run and load faster and smoother with Restock than without it. (Github)

Restock Plus adds a few other parts in the same style to round out some missing parts, and if you do not have Making History, it will add its own versions of those parts for free (and with better game balance, in my opinion). (Github)

Scatterer: Replaces the archaic stock atmosphere rendering from 2011 with an accurate simulation of rayleigh scattering, vastly improving the look of planets both in space and on the surface. (Github)

KSP Community Fixes: Bug fixes and quality of life tweaks, especially useful in light of KSP's development being discontinued. (Github)

Some tips (below the cut)

KSP allows you to build rockets almost lego style out of modular parts. The game does include a few tutorials which I do recommend you try (imperfect though they are), but here's a few other helpful tips:

there are two ways to attach parts: node attach (connecting parts via those green and black spheres that appear when you're holding a part) and surface attach (connecting parts where your mouse is). If a part can be surface attached, it will always prioritize that over node attach. So if you're trying to put together a rocket tank and the tank keeps trying to attach to the other tank wrong, you have to change your camera angle so that the nodes can come together without your mouse going over the part. The alternative is to hold the ALT key, which will force the part to attach only to a node.

The C key and the X key control angle snap and symmetry mode. There's also buttons for these on the lower left of the u.i. Symmetry is a must for building rockets.

There's three main types of engines: Liquid Fuel rocket engines, which require separate fuel tank parts burning Liquid Fuel and Oxidizer, Solid Rocket Boosters, which contain their own fuel and can not use fuel tanks or be throttled, and Jet Engines, which burn liquid fuel and atmospheric oxygen from air intakes, at a high efficiency.

There's also the ion engine, which uses electricity for power and xenon gas as a propellant for extremely high efficiency and extremely low thrust, the nuclear thermal rocket, which uses an onboard nuclear reactor to heat up liquid fuel propellant for high efficiency and low thrust, and monopropellant RCS, which are steering thrusters that use monopropellant tanks shared between all stages. There's also a single 'normal' engine that burns monopropellant, the Puff.

At a first approximation the game uses real orbital mechanics. To get to space, you just have to go straight up above 70 kilometers. To stay in space, you must enter orbit, which means your sideways velocity has to be somewhere around 2500 meters per second so as you fall you curve around the planet. The M key brings up the map mode, showing you your trajectory. It'll also show you if your orbit intersects the planet, and you can mouse over Ap (your apoapsis, the farthest distance in your orbit) or Pe (your periapsis, the closest approach in your orbit) to see if they are above 70 kilometers.

At first approximation the game uses real rocket science. The more fuel you add, the more fuel you're wasting to carry that fuel. Staging (detaching tanks and engines when they're no longer needed) using decouplers is a must. Parachutes are also a must if you want to preserve the lives of your Kerbals, but remember. This game is realistic. Parachutes will not work on airless bodies like the Mun, and they may not be enough on their own on martian planets like Duna which have only thin atmospheres.

Career mode is kinda... not very well made? I would start with Science Mode. The tech tree will kind of ease you into building with limited parts. But you can always jump right into sandbox mode.

Rocket parts come in a few diameters sizes: 0.625m, 1.25m, 1.875m, 2.5m, 3.75m, and 5m. In addition, there are 1.25m (mk1), diamond-shaped 1.25x2.5 (mk2), and roughly 3.75m (mk3) spaceplane parts. The aerodynamics and structure works out best when same diameter parts are connected together. There are adapter parts to facilitate this, as well as fairings (procedurally shaped aerodynamic casings) and engine plates if you need to get around this.

Turn on Advanced Tweakables in the settings. This will allow you to right click on parts and select "rigid attachment", and to use "autostrut", both of which are necessary for making rockets behave. (you could try and use strut parts, but that can bloat your part count and often times it isnt clear how to even attach a strut in the direction you need) This is one of my least favorite parts of KSP, as this is pretty tedious for a large rocket, but it's necessary to keep it from flopping around. For some reason KSP's developers thought that floppy rockets (even when they should be perfectly rigid), would be more fun. The idea comes from the early days of the game, when the conventional wisdom was "if it moves and it shouldn't, add struts; if it doesn't move and it should, add more boosters." The game has gotten a lot more complicated now, and that design philosophy should have been left in 2012. There's also a mod, Kerbal Joint Reinforcement, that will provide this functionality without needing autostrut and rigid attachment per part.

On efficient launches, you're going to end up looking like you're burning up. This is a limitation of the 1/10th scale planets in KSP, and how that plays with the 7/8ths scale atmospheres. During a real launch as well as an efficient KSP launch, you'll end up travelling at 1500-2000 m/s in the upper atmosphere, but in the real world that's only a fraction of orbital velocity. In KSP, that is near orbital velocity, and so the game is balanced to assume you're in reentry conditions. If you have fairings to protect sensitive parts of your ship, you should be fine.

KSP's small scale makes Apollo's Lunar Orbit Rendezvous approach inefficient for the Mun and Minmus. It's actually cheaper to just directly land on the surface. This can be fixed by installing a rescale mod such as Sigma Dimensions, and setting it to 2.5 rescale and resize, and 1.6 rotation period scale. This makes delta-v 1.6 times larger than stock KSP, resulting in more realistic proportioned rockets. The game honestly isn't any harder in this state, it just needs somewhat bigger rockets. All that aside, the "Apollo style" orbital rendezvous approach works great for all other planets, since interplanetary transfer requires more fuel as do most planetary landings. This approach has two spacecrafts launch either together or separately that travel to the destination planet docked together. The lander then separates, lands, and eventually launches again, but only back into orbit, where the orbiter picks up the crew and they launch back home.

The KSP solar system is not a 1:1 copy of our system. Moho is a lot like Mercury, Eve is like Venus but purple and much more massive, Kerbin is like Earth, Mun is like the Moon but about three times closer, Minmus is a small moon orbiting far from Kerbin, Duna is like Mars, but instead of small asteroid moons, it has an almost planet sized moon which is almost a binary companion. Jool is a gas giant that orbits where Jupiter should, but it's undersized, and orbited by three huge planet sized moons, including the ocean world Laythe, the ice planet Vall, and the airless Kerbin-mass rocky planet Tylo. In addition, two small minor moons. There's also a big Ceres analogue called Dres and Eeloo, a cracked, icy world in a 2:3 resonance with Jool, just how Pluto is in a 2:3 resonance with Neptune. There are mods that add more planets to the stock system, as well as mods that replace the stock system entirely. There's even Real Solar System (which is designed to be played with Realism Overhaul, a modpack that's almost a different game entirely)