#Yes I did and it was a very good decision c:

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2023 - Day 26

@that-one-thespian requested this one!! I haven't gotten to play with Zuriel in a while so this was super fun c:

TWs: Blood, gore, self-sacrifice, human shield

Explosion | Short on Time | “I won’t leave you!”

Zuriel was hurt. Golden feathers dripped silvery, angelic blood onto the alleyway ground. The demon in front of Mariano was far stronger and larger than he could hope to face down. He squared his shoulders and took a breath, fire flying through his veins as his hunting knife lit up. He couldn't let one of this demon's arrows hit Zuriel.

"Mariano you, you have to get out of here." Zuriel whimpered, breath hitching as he struggled to stay standing. They'd been running, trying to find safety. The light from Zuriel's halo trembled behind Mariano.

It looked like time had run out.

"I won't leave you." Mariano said. Zuriel hadn't ever abandoned him.

Mariano darted forward, magic blasting from his other palm. It struck the horned being's face, sending them reeling back and scrabbling at their skin with pain. He leaped, swiping at their abdomen with his blade. He didn't let up.

If you give your opponents a moment to think, you've already lost.

Luis' training echoed in Mariano's head as he stabbed and slashed, gutting the being that had been so doggedly hunting them. All he had to do was injure them enough to open an escape. Bastian wasn't far, now. He was getting closer by the second. Mariano's knife darted upwards, hooking the demon's breastbone and beginning to eat through it.

Their hand caught his wrist, the other wrapping around his throat and lifting him up effortlessly. Blood poured from their body, glowing a brilliant emerald color. Eyes that matched narrowed, jagged teeth bared in glee.

"Not today, little panther." They purred, their nose almost brushing Mariano's. "You fought well though."

Effortlessly, they threw Mariano.

"No!" Zuriel shouted, staggering backwards towards Mariano as his flight abruptly ended against the alleyway wall. He dropped to the ground, stunned. "No--please..."

Zuriel looked back towards the demon, feathers trembling as he spread his wings. His stance widened as he drew his sword. The demon drew their bow.

Just behind him, Mariano shakily rose to his feet, eyes burning. He saw the twitch of the demon's fingers as a burning arrow appeared, and his body moved before he could even think. He grabbed the back of Zuriel's collar, yanking the angel backwards as he launched himself forward.

Mariano watched the demon's fingers move. He saw the glowing green arrow fly through the air. He felt the searing, acrid burn explode through his chest before he realized he'd fallen to his knees. Trembling, he reached for his shoulder, fingers passing through the wicked body of the arrow.

He couldn't stand up again. The sparks flying through his chest kept brushing against something awful and deep, like it was trying to bite at his pact with Bastian. It sapped his strength, pulled his magic away from his hands.

Zuriel was shouting something, ever-careful hands gripping Mariano's shoulders. Dazed, Mariano looked up in time to see a purple, smoky mass tackle the bloodied form of the demon. "What..." Mariano mumbled. "What was...magic?" Was Bastian there? Something else?

He heard screaming.

It almost felt like he'd taken too many pact dampeners. It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open, to keep track of where Bastian was. Zuriel was hovering above him. When had he laid down?

"Keep, keep your eyes on me." Zuriel said, one hand glowing with his soft, golden magic. "Don't fall asleep. This might not feel good."

The moment that Zuriel's magic met Mariano's chest, Mariano arched off the ground. It ripped a choked scream from him, his hands twisting into his own bloodied shirt. As the green glow faded and a soft warmth replaced it, Mariano went slack under Zuriel's hands.

Zuriel's look of relief came into sharper focus as the sheer exhaustion started to ebb away. "You--is it working?" Zuriel asked, as if he hadn't expected that to help.

"I'm...you're okay." Mariano breathed. He looked the angel trainee up and down, checking for any sickly green glow. "They didn't...you're not hurt."

Zuriel shook his head, blond curls vibrating as he shook. His eyes started to fill with tears. "I'm not hurt. Don't, please don't ever do that again."

Mariano couldn't promise that. He just nodded, reaching up to pull Zuriel into a hug. As Zuriel's bloody wings shook and the shouts from outside the alleyway cut off, Mariano couldn't bring himself to promise that it would never happen again.

Not when he could survive an arrow like that and Zuriel couldn't.

[httpsleclerc]

☾you've got a 9 to 5☽

in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other

c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce

w/c: 1k words

based on this request

You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to  file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.

You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.

Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right. 

For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.

"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.

"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.

You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.

"Mama?" 

You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.

"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.

"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."

"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"

"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.

"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl.  You sighed sadly.

"I know, I miss him too baby girl."

[noodle-is-unstable]

Are the JJK Characters Doms, Subs or Switches

(Head Cannons/Drabbles)

Ft ~ Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryoumen Sukuna, Choso, Takuma Ino, Shiu Kong, Uraume, Yuki Tsukumo, Shoko Ieiri, Mahito

Synopsis ~ Are the JJK Characters Doms, Subs or Switches? (These are just my opinions but I'm right)

Content Warning ~ 18+, Idk adult stuff

Gojo ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Absolute Switch. He doesn't care what position he's taking he'll have fun either way

"Blindfold on baby cakes!" Gojo cooed, holding out his signature blindfold.

"Hmmm, no, I think you should wear it today." You smirk, pushing it back towards him.

"I wear it every day though." He laughed, such a precious sound.

"Mhm, but you don't wear ropes everyday."

Geto ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Dom leaning Switch. Likes to be in charge most of the time but is fine switching it up every now and then. He looks pretty in rope after all

"What do you want today Angel?" Geto hummed, scanning through the wall of toys.

"How about you bring out the ropes and the flog?" You bite your lip, pulling him closer by his robes.

"Aren't you a naughty little thing."

Nanami ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Soft Dom. Very comforting and you won't even realize you're being dominated until he tells you how good you did

"You did so good, you behaved so well." Nanami cooed, kissing the top of your head.

"Did I?" You ask, still slightly dazed.

"You did the best darling."

Toji ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Pleasure Dom. Froths on getting you off over, and over, and over again

"Come on, you can give me one more, right?" Toji urged you, his fingers still going at their relentless pace.

"C-can't." You cry out. But that was a lie and both you and him knew it.

"Hmm, I think i can get one more."

Sukuna ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Sadistic Dom. Loves to inflict pain but you'll always be well cared for after

"Count out loud each time I strike you or I'll make you start over." Sukuna warned, his dark, sadistic smile on his lips.

"Got it." You huffed out.

"Good minx."

Choso ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: The subbiest Sub that ever subbed. Just wants to be told what to do and have things done to him.

"Please, please, please please." The words fell from Choso like a chant, the only word he knew.

"Three. Two. One." You count down to his release.

"T-thank you!"

Ino ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Sub leaning Switch. Is a natural born sub but has no problems taking control every now and then

"Soooo, wanna sit on my face until I can't breath?" Ino hummed.

"If I ever say no to that, kill me." You giggle back, grabbing his hand to drag him to the bedroom.

"Score!"

Shiu ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Dom (Brat Tamer). Docile in the streets, Dominant in the sheets, you'll be in his control in no time

"Sit." Shiu instructed you, patting the space on his lap.

"Make me." You purred, famous last words.

"If you insist."

Uraume ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Sub. They always have to make decisions and likes being able to let go and give up control in the bedroom

"Move your hands, I want to see you." You urged them.

"This is embarrassing." Uraume pouted, red cheeks.

"You never have to be embarrassed with me Snowflake."

Yuki ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Hard Dom (Dommy Mommy). Absolutely would rather die than give up control

"Arch your back more babe." Yuki chuckled, slapping your ass.

"I'm not a contortionist." You bite back, though you do arch more

"Mhm, yet you still listened."

Shoko ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Switch. Like most thing she's pretty indifferent and is just happy to be apart of it

"Should I be on top today, or you?" Shoko hummed with a smile.

"You, I was on top yesterday." You laughed.

"Fine by me."

Mahito ~

Dom, Sub, Switch: Sub. Just wants to do ANYTHING you say and to keep you happy

"Please tell me what you want. What can I do? Please tell me." Mahito desperately plead, hugging your thigh and looking up at you.

"Will you be a good boy and listen?" You ask, playing with his hair.

"Yes! I'll be the best boy!"

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

the nsfw alphabet for reiner pls !!! i love how u write <3333

CW: Post-war!Reiner

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Reiner is very gentle after sex. Undestand him, he just let you see the most vulnerable side of himself and can't believe how good you made him feel. This guy just wants to thank you for everything! He is the type to immediately bring you a glass of water and hug you, asking if you are okay or if he hurt you by any accident. Probably needs you to tell him at least twice that you are really fine and that you are more than satisfied to finally stop worrying and asking questions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask Reiner which body part he likes from his body, he will probably mention his eyes. Nothing really fascinating, they looks boring to him but after you kept complimenting them, he really started to think they are pretty. I mean, how can't someone fall for those honey eyes, looking so fucking gorgeous in the setting sun?

As for you, he will never say it out loud but he loves your boobs. They are just... so soft and firm at the same time, it does not make sense to him! The perfect pillow to sleep on and cute anti-stress balls. He is not too touchy either, just slightly groping on them in private when you are okay with it. Small, medium or big, he loves the feeling of them in his big hands and the blush on your face whenever he tells you how cute and pretty they are.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Reiner is the biggest cum eater in the world. Man can lick your dripping pussy for hours without being tired. Every time he flips his tongue in your slit, he makes you even wetter until you literally beg him to stop. He then lifts his head and looks at you with glazed eyes and his puffy lips covered in cum until he runs his tongue over them to not waste any drops. He does not know why but your sweet nectar has a such addictive taste that he can't get enough of it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It might not be surprising but Reiner fantasizes about you dominating him. Who knew that this big man could actually think about being the submissive one, letting you take control over him. He is so... tired to be the one always taking decisions. Reiner just wants to be at your mercy because he knows you will take good care of him.

He needs you to push his hands away as he tries to touch you, gosh he can't stop thinking about it but everytime he is about to ask you about it, the words stay stuck in his throat. He can't say it, no matter how much he wants, he is just a tiny scared that you might judge him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, Reiner did not have anybody and honestly did not have a lot of time to think and care about sex. Yes, his sex life before you was non-existential. Your first time was actually a bit embarrassing as both of you were virgins and did not really know what to do. It was a bit messy at the beginning but after a few minutes, Reiner caught the pace.

But now I think it's a bit useless to tell that he became pretty skilled with all the times you two did the deed. He is still unsure of himself sometimes but it is very rare now as he feels like he can be himself with you without being judged. If anything embarrassing happens, you two just laugh about it and continue this intimate and passionnate moment, not focusing on that.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As a person who is constantly searching for approval from his partner, Reiner finds it very important to maintain eye contact while having sex. He needs to be sure that he is doing everything okay and seeing your face can be very helpful. He needs to see any little change in your facial expression that could potentially show some discomfort/pain or at the opposite, pleasure. Positions like the missionnary or the lotus are his favorite for that.

It's very rare for him to try new positions that are not the two mentionned the line before but the doggy can be also great when he feels a little more dominant, giving him the access to reach that sweet spot inside you. Another nice position would be the spooning one. Reiner just loves how his whole body is pressed against your back while he is gently thrusting into your tight pussy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Reiner is not goofy during sex at all. For him making love is the pinnacle of seriousness and not something that should be joked about. This moment should be used to share and show your intimacy, your love and affection and he does not want to ruin it by making jokes that will only cringe both of you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Normal level of hair. Reiner is not the type of guy who take time everyday to make sure he is freshly groomed so he shaves it about once a week? Not too shaved but not messy either, just the perfect mix. The puebes are darked than his blond hair, a somewhat brown/caramel color.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is probably one of the most romatic guys ever during sex. I mean, my boy is putting all his efforts in to make you feel good and loved. He's taking his time to pamper your body with hundreds of kisses and whisper how much he loves you into your ear. Let's also remember that he is extra-sensitive, literally baby boy, so he really takes his time to please you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Whenever he has a boner but you are not there, he will ask you to send him a pic of you. Not necessarily a spicy one where you are in a lewd position or showing your tits to him. Nope, just a pic of you today, his imagination can do the rest to imagine himself undressing you, removing that cute crop top or unbuttoning that shirt.

He will usually imagine that his hand is your hand and that you are the one giving him that handjob. His strong thighs twitches as he feels his climax approaching, hearing your soft voice whispering praises at his ear. He finally let out a loud gasp as his hips thrust forward, his cum covering his hand, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. Listen, the worst thing you could ever do to Reiner is degrade him. That sweet boy's life was filled with remorse and self-doubt and only God knows how he is still alive today. He cannot stop thinking about all the bad things he did and it drives him sick. Reiner needs to be comforted, to be called good and to be praised. He loves it when you whisper sweet things to his ear or when you, on the contrary, yell them as he makes you feel so good.

Size kink. This man is HUGE and it always turns him on how you are so small and cute compared to him. He love when your hand is gripping his while he's literally stretching your tight hole out. Bonus points if you wear one of his shirt, it's a huge turn-on and he will just fuck you in it without any doubts.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I feel like Reiner is quite the traditionnal guy who thinks that there is no better place to have sex than in the bed. It's a private place where you two can't be seen or interrupted by anybody, it's comfy and easy to clean up after (just throw the dirty bed sheets in the laundry and ta-da).

Honestly, I think Reiner can fuck you everywhere as long as it's in a private place with nobody else. If the sexual tension is too much and you can't even reach the bed without fucking each other, the couch, the kitchen counter, any table, the shower... any place at home is a good place to fuck you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One of his biggest turn on is probably when you wear his clothes. It comes with his size kink. Not gonna lie, Reiner finds it fucking sexy when you wear his clothes, like his shirt that is way too big for you. It is just adorable how the piece of clothing is hanging on your body, making you look even smaller than you are. Be prepared to be fucked until you pass out if you dare to wear his clothes (of course, he will fuck you while you have his shirt on).

Another turn on for Reiner would be dirty messaging. You don't have to spend any pics, just dirty textos can make him feel tight in his trousers. This man is pretty easy to turn on, you just have to tell him everything you want him to do with you and he is already hard. If you text him while he is not at home, he will come home earlier than planned. He is already expecting you to be half-naked on the bed and might teach you a lesson about turning him on in public.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't see Reiner has someone who would feel pleasure with pain honestly. He thinks that all this BDSM stuff is a bit disgusting and weird. What the point of hurting someone you care so deeply about even if it is just for sex? This does not make sense to him. He is pretty vanilla sex as you can see and will refuse anything that could be painful (either for you and himself).

Another turn off would be anything that implies another person than you two (threesome, public sex, ect). Due to his protective personality, he wants to keep you all to himself, no sharing allowed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

If it was not clear with the letter C, let me say it again. Reiner loves eating you out. Of course, nobody is born pro at giving oral but Reiner is kinda good at it even at his first time? Not that he is so skilled but even with that first messy cunni he was able to make you cum after a short amount of time. Those skills only improve with time and soon he becomes a real professional.

He also does not care if you think you are too heavy, just sit on his fucking face and let him lick your pussy dammit! You are a thick girl? Squish his face with your thighs please. Skinny girl? Squish his face too. No matter your body type, your height and your weight, this man handle you like nobody else and loves you more than anything else in the world.

Reiner also likes being the receiver but do not push you to do it. You are too scared? That's okay, there is so much more to do in bed! You are messy and unexperienced? Wonderful, there is no better way to gain experience than with practice! You are fucking skilled and can take all his dick one-shot? Keep it like this, he won't complain!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is both. Often, Reiner will start thrusting into you slowly and sensually, just to make sure you have time to adapt yourself to his cock. Then, his thrusts will slightly increase in pace and roughness to finally transform into intense pounding that will make you scream and rearrange your guts.

Also, Reiner is not the type to change pace depending of his mood. That means that even if he had a bad day, he is angry or tired, he will still fuck you as usual and not more agressively. He does not want his emotions to take control over him and take the risk to hurt you by accident.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

It might be surprising but Reiner does not like quickies. The reason behind this is pretty simple, he is easily stressed and dislikes to be quick on a such thing as making love. He likes to take his time, feeling his climax approaching slowly, no stress about being late for something...

He wants to take it "relax" if we can say it like that. Quickies with him are very rare, mostly done when you two have unexpected changes in your plannings right before making love.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Reiner is not really the risky type, he likes to stay in his comfort zone and may be grumpy at the idea of trying something new. So if you want to try out new things, you will have to push this man to take some risks but he will say thank you after.

Okay something silly like cockwarming. When you first proposed it to him, he made the sour face that always make you laugh. He did not understood the point of having his cock buried inside your guts without the right to move. How could he resists from pounding inside that warm pussy of yours? Okay it took you a few days to convince him to try it just one time but the result was worth it. Just hearing the soft sigh that escape his lips as he feel that warmth around his shaft, you pussy squeezing him slightly, making it even tighter than usual. He fell in love with it, now always asking you to cockwarm him while he's working from home or watching a movie with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Thanks to his high sex drive (which will be more explained in the letter Y...) and his good physical form, Reiner has a lot and a lot of stamina. This stamina the the one that allow him to last for at least 15 minutes per rounds.

This guy can be pretty whiny if his partner only wants to go for one round as he prefers to go for minimum 2 rounds and more. After complaining a bit, he accepts his fate if his lover did not change their opinion but be ready to an extremely long sex session to compensate for the only one round thingy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As said in the letter N, Reiner is turned off by almost everything that is not vanilla sex. That means that the possibility of him owning toys is very very small. If it was just for him, the answer would be a total no.

But, he actually also cares about his partner's needs and requests so if you want to try out some toys one night, he will accept. Reiner is only doing it for you and by consequence, only uses the toys on you. However, he still does not get it how some plastic can bring as much pleasure as a real meaty cock.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One thing, Reiner is not a tease at all. This man is already way too needy for sex to lose time on teasing. Forget about things any other guys would do like hands avoiding your dripping wet cunt or his tip teasing your entrance. No, Reiner is giving you everything you want as soon as you give him the green light. You just have to ask him and he will do it.

But what if YOU decide to tease him? Oh my god, this big guy will turn into a whiny mess, begs literally flowing out of his mouth like a waterfall. Why are you so mean to him? Why do you tease that poor baby? At some point, he will almost grab your hand and bring it to his twitching and neglected dick. "Don't you feel how I need you? Stop teasing me please, I can't take it anymore..."

Let's just say that you are still wondering how you keep losing against those soft honey eyes...

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

A loud boy here! Well, let me re-phrase it. At first, he is very shy and tries to mute any sounds that could come out from his mouth. However, he quickly gains in confidence and after a few minutes he does not hesitate to let you know how much he loves it by being very vocal. Mostly growling and soft whimpering, he is not into very girlish sounds and stays more manly. Sometimes, he can let out whines and sobs if you decide to tease him.

Reiner also like to have a noisy partner. Actually... who does not want to have a noisy partner in bed? The sounds you make is the easiest way for him to know if you like that he is doing or if you are close to your climax. Don't hold back or he will slip his fingers into your warm mouth and force you to keep it open while thrusting into you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This man is a true cuddle bug. He can stay for hours in your arms, feeling your fingers scratching his scalp. He is craving for affection, even more physical. Pamper his face with kisses, hug his bigger frame by behind, hold his hands while you are taking a walk... he just needs it. He likes the feeling of your head on his chest when you are peacefully sleeping, nuzzling against his body. Yes, he is needy just like a little kid but it's adorable and we love him like that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Would you be really surprised if I told you Reiner has a big dick? The answer is probably no because we all know that under those pants is hidden a whole monster. Reiner is quite shy about it because he finds it gross but honestly it is a whole feast.

You want more description? Here you go: it's above average, about 7 inches long and 2 and half inches thick, no piercings with a slight curve that allows him to hit the deepest parts of your body, no cut with a nice dark pink color.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

To be honest, it surprising at first how high is Reiner sex drive. Who could know that this quiet warrior would be a sex addicted? Not that he can't spend one day without it. No, he can restrain himself of course like any normal man. He will never assume it and even more say it out loud but yes, he likes the feeling of his dick inside you a little bit too much.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually, due to his trauma, Reiner has insomnia and barely sleep 3 hours per night plus nightmares often happen to him so our baby doesn't get a lot of rest. But after sex, he's surprisingly falling asleep only a few minutes later. The rush of emotions you two just lived and the feeling of your skin pressed against his seems to calm him down. It won't take long for you to hear his soft snores as he's already sleeping tight.

[purelyfiction]

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━ .t.w.o.

NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 2,999 words

Author Note: :)) I know it's shorter than the first part but I am trying here y'all - I really am. but!!! more Celeste and Jake for your trying monday night xD ━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

There are only so many ways to avoid conversation, which is why Jake’s fiddling with the radio. It makes you nervous, seeing how he man-handles the wheel with one hand, the touch pad in the car with the other. Who was the genius to put touch screens in vehicles anyway? That seemed like a stupidly dangerous decision. But you weren’t an engineer so that meant it wasn’t for you to worry about. Or maybe it was since Jake was fucking around with it while operating a motor vehicle. 

“Shit, there is literally nothing good on.” His voice is low before he asks the AI assistant again to play a specific song. You turn your face to the glass of the passenger door, trying to hide the growing smile on your face as the country song plays. “What?” 

“I didn’t say anything!” You defend, looking at him while actively battling the grin. 

“The thing on your face - you’re smiling, why are you smiling-”

“I can’t just smile?” 

“Not out of the goddamn blue like Jeffery Dahmer, you can’t!” It’s now that you realize that there’s a subtle twinge in his voice. He’d relayed plenty of stories to you at the bar but not once did he mention where he was from. And the slight drawl on his lips helps you narrow it down slightly. Well that made sense now. The pop country track wasn’t out of the blue when you pieced it together. 

That isn’t why you’re giggling though. Instead of answering his question, you lean into the door, watching the landscape whizz by. 

“Gonna answer my question?” He prompts once more. 

“I’m just smiling!” You try, looking at him with a laugh. The look on his face is one that makes him look like he’s almost about to explode under the stress you’ve seemingly put him under. Finally, you relent. “I- well I wrote this. That’s all.” 

Brows furrow as he turns down a road. “I’m calling bullshit.” Now your lips part in amused shock. 

“Are you joking? I wrote this!” You give an astonished laugh as you slowly approach a modern looking gate overlooking the driveway to a residence. 

“No. Prove it.” Off the top of your head, you begin to list the chord progressions, C. F7. G7. F7. C. As he parks the car, he’s still being stubborn. “That proves nothing other than you can play the song.” Scoffing with a roll of your eyes as he pulls his phone out, tapping something on the screen. The large gate slowly begins to recede into the bushes next to it. 

“Here.” You hand him your own phone, Google provides not only the lyrics, but the song writing credits at the very bottom. Jake squints and points to the name, reading it out loud to you. “Yes!” 

“That doesn’t say ‘Celeste’.” Now he’s smirking, leaving your head falling forward. You quickly move to your purse, grabbing your wallet and then your ID, throwing it at him, causing both of you to laugh when it hits his face. He scrambles to pick it back up, looking at the plastic. Then, not unlike a bouncer at a bar, he cross references the name on the card to the one on the screen. Jake then has the audacity to bend it for authenticity. 

“Oh give me that.” You snatch both of your belongings out of his hands and he holds up his hands in defeat. 

“Fine, fine.” The gate is open now, a rolling road of pavement that opens up to a mammoth of a house. You pull into the garage, finally moving into the conversation again, somewhat bluntly. 

“Is it so hard to believe I wrote a song about sex?” Jake doesn’t answer. Instead, he gets out of the vehicle, shutting the door behind him. Before you can utter a word, he’s come to the other side and opened the door. 

“No. Though, you writing a country song is.” His head disappears from the door frame and he leads you into the house. “It’s not a bad song. You did the whole thing?” 

You are slowly following him in, your head craned as you take in the massive building. For its size, it’s very ordinarily decorated. There aren’t massive and astonishingly expensive art pieces on the walls or marble staircases - it was… dare you say: cozy? It was familiar and welcoming in the way a home should be, not sterile and rigid like most homes in the neighborhood were. Of course, you only knew this because of Restoration Hardware and the likes. 

Jake is easily leading you to the kitchen, which is less ‘normal’ than the rest of the house. Recent appliances and modern finishes adorn the kitchen, from intricate coffee machines and luxurious wine fridges. He’s stuck his nose into one as you gape at the rest of the house. 

It finally dawns on you that maybe you should answer his question. 

“I did. It was one of my favorites but.. The entire thing just felt too… out of place for my style- you own this place?” Jake nods. You’re not sure if it’s in response to your question or to your response. 

“Sounds about right. I can’t imagine you singing country music.” He’s moved around the kitchen toward the fridge. “And no, I don’t.” 

You freeze for a minute. If he didn’t own this place… 

“Then whose house-“ 

“It’s my mom’s.” Well that wasn’t listed in any of the answers you’d predicted he’d give you. Still, he’s pulling a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, reading the label and then sitting it on the counter. 

“Your mom owns a place… in LA?” He starts digging into drawers, looking for what you can only presume to be a wine bottle opener. You help him in his pursuits, pulling random drawers open. 

“Well… it’s- okay so I bought it for her. She really loves the drive to Big Sur on Highway 1 and so she’s got this place to stay at and then there’s my place in San Diego. My place isn’t big enough to house my whole family, so they crash here when they’re in town for football games, they just take a quick flight up to SD. Or make the drive if they have the time.” You’ve found the wine opener by now and are unintentionally holding it hostage. He’d bought his mom a house so she didn’t have to stay in a hotel in San Diego? And he just flew her home whenever she wanted? 

“So.. you crash here because no one can tell when it's your mom or you here?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. It’s as close to home as I can get without boarding a four hour flight.” Jake pushes the bottle in front of you, and you distract yourself by opening the bottle as he putzes around with his phone. It begins to ring as you screw metal into the cork. You preoccupy yourself with your task as he disappears to the other side of the room. The blonde paces the room as he settles on the phone. An unfortunate look crosses his features and it certainly doesn’t inspire anything confident in you. While he hangs up, you are still struggling with the damned cork in the bottle. “Well, that was my lead security guy.” Jake speaks, leaving your attention on him as you hopelessly tug on the bottle and the jammed instrument in the glass neck. 

“And what does Mr. Security have to say-” your question is punctured by the pop of the stubborn cork. As well as the splash of decade old fermented grape juice all over Jake’s mom’s nice granite counters. And your very new, very white tank top. Defeatedly, your hands let the bottle gently come to the surface, staring down at the mess. For some reason, you don’t immediately respond to the mess. You just… stare.

It isn’t until Jake comes along with paper towels, bumping your hip with his own to nudge you out of the way. “Don’t worry about it.” The wine is cleaned in no time, and you hazily fill two waiting glasses. 

“What a waste of good wine.” You complain, before nearly gulping your first sip down. Jake simply laughs. 

“Happens. Anyways, Wells, he said they can’t get to your room.” Setting your glass down you’re about to explain how reception desks work. The quarterback beats you to it. “Now listen, smartass. I know what you’re about to say, cause I would’ve said the same thing-” he laughs. You tandemly giggle along with him, “the hotel literally can’t get into your room. The key card reader is malfunctioning. The guy who fixes them won’t be in until tomorrow.” The groan off your lips is paired with your footsteps as you move to his living room.

“Great. Well,” you take another sip, pausing in the middle of the room, “guess you made a smart move of bringing me here then. We have an out if we get caught. ‘My room was malfunctioning so like the gracious gentleman you are, you let me stay at your place.” 

“My mom’s place.” He corrects, slowly following you into the room with massively vaulted ceilings. There are beams across it, dark in color. If the sun was still up, the entire thing would be flooded with daylight from the skylights in the ceiling.

“Right. Your moms.” You spend time staring up at them, admiring how he was a whole ass homeowner as you count his skylights. Eight skylights. When your attention comes back to the horizontal plane, Jake looks over at you as he tosses his phone to his couch. When he does, you realize your own voice is softly playing over the built in speakers. 

“Are you quizzing me? Is that what’s happening here?” You squint at him teasingly as he sets his glass down. “No, I’m putting it on so I can learn it. If I consistently listen to things on a loop my brain seems to soak it up - almost like a sponge.” The blonde disappears from behind the couch, down a hallway, leaving you to admire the stone fireplace that crawled to the ceiling, basking in the notes and chord progressions you’d strung together. 

“Oh, so I’m not studying, you are.” You call out to him, letting it echo down the hall. He mimics your call. 

“Yeah. My coach will have me benched if this doesn’t go well. So, I’m gonna be damn sure I know everything about my girl.” 

You know what he meant. The word wasn’t meant to be possessive, or affectionate. Except, coming off of his lips - so naturally like that… it was easy to mistake it for genuinity. 

“That tracks. What are you even doing over there?” As you call out, your feet are slowly making their practiced patterns from choreographed rehearsals timed with the song playing over you. 

The realization makes you giggle. You haven’t performed this in over four years. So it was silly you still knew it. But it also was just plain silly. Dancing around to your own music, tipsy in a multi-million dollar house in the Hollywood hills, with a stranger who let you spill wine on his quartz counters. The whole thing is something from a novel. 

“You ruined your shirt, and your stuff is locked in a hotel almost thirty minutes away, so-” Jake has looped around the couch by now, watching as you step in time with your music. One hand grips to a pile of clothing, his other hand pointing your direction. “If you plan on me learning this then you can forget it.” The clothes drop to the leather of the couch as you continue to step with the words, shimmying for emphasis. 

“Oh come on, it’s so easy.” Moving to the coffee table, you set your glass down, grabbing his now empty hands and pulling him further into the room. “Ready? Just follow my steps.” 

And he does, doing as best as he can as you emphasize the words, using them as the tempo with your steps. You know that’s not how your dancers did it, but that’s how you’d done it. Using the words were like landmarks, signifying when you needed to do specific motions. Jake seems to pick it up, somewhat effortlessly, with an uncanny ease. 

“Oh you totally dance.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You do. Don’t even try to deny it.” You tease him further as the song ends and transitions into the next one. This one has a heavier tone to it, but it doesn’t stop you from following the steps. Your mind floods with the dance moves and the arena tour. The catwalk into the crowd, the sultry steps you took alongside the music. The outfit you’d had on. God, you had felt so hot in that outfit. It was one of your favorite tour costumes. You’d wanted it back from wardrobe when the tour was over - but the Music Hall of Fame had wanted it for a display not even three months ago. Otherwise you would’ve worn it to New Years Eve. It was your favorite. 

It was Jonah’s favorite. 

Jake has stopped dancing at this point. His attention has moved to each of the coordinated moves you made until you got halfway through the song, grabbing your glass and sitting next to him where he was perched on the arm of the chair. 

“Your turn.” You tease, only to sip from your glass. Surprisingly, Jake downs his glass and stands up. 

His dance moves are horrible. Downright awful. But you laugh all the same as he tries to sing along, getting the words wrong.   You shake your head and continue to grin as you begin to sing along to the words. 

“I’d walk through the fire if you were the flame, couldn’t care less if they call me insane, I don’t need the fortune and I don’t need the fame, I just need for you..” The note drags out as the song picks up, your hand slapping against the couch with the drum as Jake continues his terrible rendition. Finally you finish the line, “to say my name. Say my name! I’d take it all on, face all of the pain, say my name!” 

The instrumental approaches the bridge, an overlapping conversation in the background of the audio, ‘Celeste’ over and over in low sounds. But Jake’s voice catches you off guard. He’s stopped dancing by now, but you look at him all the same. Your name falls off his lips again. When you look like you’re about to question him, he just laughs. 

“You said to say your name.” Rolling your eyes, you finish your wine, moving back to the kitchen to grab another glass. You wouldn’t tell him, but so few people called you by it anymore. It was refreshing. You retrieve the clothes he’d dropped to the couch, before giving him a pointed gleam of a smile. 

“I’m gonna go change- bathroom?” He points you in the direction of the room, and you quickly slide in. Once your shirt is off, you’re dropping it into the sink, the water running as you try to get out a stain that was on the verge of being fully dry. That was, admittedly, less than helpful. Still, your soggy shirt is the least of your problems when Jake comes knocking on the door. 

“You okay?” You open the door and show him the shirt in the sink. There’s a low laugh that comes from him. “I have a laundry room- here, give me that, I’ll go put a stain remover on it and let it sit for the night.” You don’t exactly know why, but you are kind of shocked that he offers. You had imagined he would just turn and leave you to your failed attempts, but instead he’s been rather compassionate to your cause. Though, it doesn’t take him long to mock you for your misfortune. You then remind him that this was his wine that was causing the problems after all.

Jake then proceeds to ask you about each song that comes up over the speakers for the remainder of the night. He surprises you with his questions on specific words, asking what they mean and making you laugh as you play dictionary for the man. When the bottle is finally empty, the two of you have sprawled out on the couch, the ceiling having transformed into some form of entertainment for the two of you. 

When you try to stifle a yawn, the blonde slowly pushes from the couch with a low grunt. It makes your stomach surge. Being in close quarters with a man like this was one thing: the sound he’d made was a completely other itinerary. One you never planned on following. The only plans you wanted to follow were the contractual ones you’d signed off on the other afternoon. The way that Jake was standing in front of you, holding out a hand to help you off the couch was making that more difficult. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed, popstar.” Drowsily, you take his assistance, but his strength pulls you up way harder than you were anticipating, leaving you flying into his chest and leaving him to subsequently catch you. When he does, you’re only in a fit of giggles as he holds on tight, feeling how his breath falters as he tries to return it to its regular rate. “You think that’s funny?” He smirks, moving the two of you now in some makeshift waddle, arms locked around you. His breath comes hot over your shoulder as you move through his house - his mom’s house - and toward a room. When the door creaks open, another damn near erotic sound leaves the athlete behind you. You know you didn’t cause that sound (even if you kind of wished you had). That was the work of one disassembled queen bed frame against the wall of the guest bedroom.

[raayllum]

I've thought about Terry and Rayla parallels before ("I think too much, get confused about the right thing to do" / "says I think too much about everything" / elves supporting their mages / Rayla leaving as love vs Terry refusing to leave as love / lovingly watching your partner sleep, etc etc). Even the way they can sometimes enable Callum and Claudia's actions.

This is more true, of course, in Terry's case than Rayla's, but in a similar vein that their bonds of love are unbreakable (look at Rayla and Runaan) and that it would take a LOT for Rayla to ever even consider maybe that Callum could make a Seriously Bad Decision (she got straight up told he had a heart full of darkness and went "you're the best/goodest person I know" + the idea of Callum being controlled by Aaravos in a bad way being unfathomable to her in S4).

However what I want to talk about today is their attitudes towards dark magic.

Part of why Terry loves Claudia, I think, is that he doesn't see anything 'wrong' with dark magic. He's seen her do "a lot of awful things, dark magic things" but dark magic to him is also useful and fine and has a tingly aftertaste. It's not a hangup for him with Viren or Claudia; all he see is that she has a Good Reason, and that's all he needs, because there's no moral wedge in the way to begin with.

That doesn't mean he has zero discomfort with dark magic ("You think if dark magic did this to someone, they might not do it") or Claudia's actions ("The way you treated that Moonshadow elf, it was just cruel" / "Please, Claudia, you don't have to do this, it's trapped, you won").

But even Sir Sparklepuff's murder gets couched under "had a good reason" because it did bring Viren back, which Terry happily joyously celebrated when it happened. With all that in mind, Terry has always reminded me of Ethari — you fell in love with someone who engages in "dark work, bloody work" (Lost Child) and you knew what it would involve, and love them regardless. That's not a choice or mindset that's easily broken, but it does lead to Terry's lack of assertiveness fucking him up in ways that Claudia's passivity can too ("Please Terry, tell me what to do" / "[to Aaravos] Tell me what to do").

Terry's lack of moral qualms with dark magic is clearest to me in 6x04 in some ways, because of this exchange with Claudia:

C: All I see is parts, for spells. T: But...? C: But it's so adorable!

His but being an 'okay but WHY is this a problem for you now?' not 'yeah Sounds Concerning (and like a red flag) jc'. Claudia says she's all messed up inside, but Terry (for whatever reason) can't fully conceptualize what she means. This also leads to him not truly understanding what it is and what it's doing to his partner (probably because he met her when she was already more than mid-spiral) because if Terry fully understood how it was hurting her...

Don't you think he'd tell her to stop?

Meanwhile, even though Rayla does have moral qualms with dark magic, she doesn't focus on any of them in her argument with Callum just an episode earlier. Instead, it's all about him and the risk it poses to him and his emotions.

But most importantly because it makes you more vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of.

Not "well Aaravos could control you and that'd be bad for everyone else / the world" but that it scares him, it hurts him, it puts him in danger. Granted, she still switches to the greater good concern later both for mitigating the harm Callum might do ("If you ever have to choose between me or the greater good, do the right thing: make the sacrifice") and on her own end ("Yes. I promise [to kill you]" + "taught me to never break my promises") but that's not her primary concern, at least not in my head.

And it's precisely because of those reasons that Rayla tells him very overtly what to do, both in regards to sacrificing her and in regards to saving him:

Rayla has unbreakable bonds of love, too, nor are her moral qualms about dark magic why she's making this point. It's because her main drive has always been to protect Callum, not even necessarily to help him, and therefore his safety is at the top of her list, so if something hurts or puts him in danger, she's going to tell him to knock it off. (And that includes saving her, but anyway.) Their mutual assertiveness with one another is one of the reasons why Rayla and Callum work, and one of the reasons Terry and Claudia were going to crash and burn, because Callum is likewise Rayla's anchor, and Terry and Claudia didn't realize they needed to be each other's until it was too late

I risked losing the best thing I ever had: you.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Following in his footsteps

Finished this idea off on the commute so apologies for typos, clumsy wording and for inconsistencies in the sounds Brains stutters on…

It’s a bit of a mystery as to why Scott, the first born, was named after the 4th of the Mercury Seven whose flight and piloting decisions were somewhat controversial and left him in conflict with flight control (sound familiar?). Anyway I find myself intrigued by that particular 1960’s flyboy, particularly as to one thing he did 1/3 of the way through his trip with his fuel running low…

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

“S-SCOTT C-C-CARPENTER TRACY!!!”

John later confirmed that this was indeed the first time in Tracy history that Brains ever been apoplectic enough to middle name any of them. His ire was usually quiet and dry, with occasional sarcasm. Every so often some non-vital but comfort-providing item might be removed from a Thunderbird for “essential maintenance”… the cushioning of One’s pilot seat, the power supply to Two’s coffee machine…

But generally, after more than a decade living with the Tracys, their long-suffering engineer had cultivated the talent of providing emotionally restrained feedback. Albeit there was good reason MAX was unable to mimic the phrases that were muttered over mangled landing gear, flooded engines, overstrained thrusters and the like.

This Wednesday morning, however, something had clearly pushed him over the edge.

“What did you doooo?” Alan hissed in alarm and was immediately shushed by a heavily frowning Virgil, whose fingers appeared unable to release the unfortunately tense chord he’d just leaned into. John’s hologram popped up looking serious. Even Gordon looked incredibly uncomfortable.

From the guilt-ridden look on Scott’s face, he could think of least three reasons his neck might be on the block this morning.

A tightly wound ball of fury approached the seating area and the speed with which International Rescue’s commander leapt from the couch betrayed his initial instinct to bolt from the room and never stop running. However, decades of experience of facing the music from many and varied sources meant his feet remained firmly rooted to the floor, while the rest of his body sought the security of parade rest.

Brains stood in front of him vibrating with rage. The ends of MAX’s arms were positioned at an approximation of where the robot’s hips might be. The room held its breath. Virgil’s foot remained wedged against the sustain pedal. The melodramatic chord continued reverberating around the lounge.

The engineer suddenly raised a hand and everyone flinched. Had their friend finally resorted to violence?

Scott closed his eyes and awaited whatever engineering justice was deemed merited for… whatever it was he had done.

But the shorter man’s movement as he reached up to Scott’s face was slow, deliberate and with a slight frown of concentration he stuck a 75mm square of blue duct tape precisely in the middle of Scott’s forehead.

Virgil jaw dropped and his foot finally slipped off the pedal. The dampers clunked back into place, allowing an ominous silence to reign for a few moments.

The colour coded rolls of multi-purpose tape included within each baldric was one of Brains’ affectionate little thematic touches but also acted as a crude fingerprint… blue tape could only ever have been used by one person.

The Commander’s eyebrows twitched almost audibly as he tried to puzzle out the strange sensation but his eyes remained screwed shut.

When Brains spoke it was barely more than a whisper and the brothers in the room found themselves leaning in. The brother in space appeared to have located a bucket of popcorn.

“D-do you h-happen, to know how l-long I have spent p-perfecting One’s fuel reserve s-system, S-Scott?”

Scott swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes again.

“Quite a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Ahh, did I ever thank you? I should have, I’m very sorry - thank you for that and for all your work, Brains. It really is appreciated.”

“Is it?”

“Of course!”

“Hmmm.”

Scott opened his mouth again but, accepting that his attempt to divert the conversation had failed, clearly thought better of digging any deeper until the nature of the situation became more clearly defined.

Brains’ hand lifted for a second time, another square of blue tape delicately held between thumb and forefinger. This was placed with some care on the very tip of Scott’s nose.

Alan snorted. Gordon punched him in the arm and was elbowed back. Virgil glared them into silence then nearly lost control himself at the sight of his elder brother going cross eyed in an attempt to establish what on earth he was being decorated with.

Brains spun on his heel to face the rest and they all leaned back hurriedly, feigning casual interest. Nobody wanted to appear to be aware of, to be accidentally associated with whatever crime it was Scott had committed.

“Th-thunderbird One uses t-two fuels but h-has th-th-three fuel tanks. As you all know, th-the balance of fuel t-to achieve m-maximum speed is p-precisely c-calculated and th-the system that g-governs it is h-highly sophisticated.”

Everyone nodded except Scott who was trying and failing to pretend he was unbothered by the additions to his face. His nose twitched compulsively.

“D-due to certain t-tendencies of her p-rimary p-p-pilot, One h-has a reserve t-tank. Th-that blend of fuel w-will not achieve the h-highest speeds b-but will ensure she is able t-to return h-home if a SENSIBLE…” the word was ground out as if it was painful “…speed is m-maintained.”

Brains paused. Every eye in the room shifted to Scott. Max bleeped, judgementally. Brains continued, his voice deadly calm and deeply terrifying for it.

“T-to ensure One’s p-pilot d-does not m-miss the fuel status w-warnings amongst th-the p-p-plethora of information on the h-holographic display I installed th-three LED bulbs t-to m-make it QU-QUITE CLEAR w-when l-levels w-were running low and w-when speed n-needed t-to be m-m-m-moderated in order t-to avoid d-damage t-to her supply p-p-p-p-pipeline a-a-a-and e-en-en-engines!”

Brains’ veneer of calm was cracking and Scott, who had clearly solved the mystery, appeared to be chewing through the inside of his face. Brains spun back to face the object of his wrath. MAX’s mechanical eyes narrowed.

“W-warning l-lights are only effective w-when th-they are v-visible!”

Scott gulped and fell back on the only defence he had left - he gave his old friend a dimpled half-grin and a doomed attempt at mitigation:

“They were a little… distracting?”

“D-distracting.”

The full stop was potent and echoed around them. Brains appeared on the edge of an eruption the like of which Tracy Island had never seen, even when the volcano was active. But he mastered himself and produced a final square of tape which he held in front of Scott’s face for a moment before slapping it down on to the top of his head, rubbing it slightly to ensnare as much perfectly styled hair as possible before storming from the room.

MAX remained just long enough to shake a medium-weight hydro-spanner with extreme prejudice before flouncing impressively and trundling after his master.

Alan and Gordon clung to each other, faces contorted with silent mirth. Virgil caught John’s eye then cleared his throat and appeared about to speak before being forestalled by his Commander’s raised palm.

Lacking a little of his usual gravitas due to the tape fluttering gently in the huffed breath from his nose, Scott still poured every ounce of authority he had left into an order of three short syllables:

“Not. A. Word.”

[differentnerddiplomatopera]

ok work with me here, see my vision

*At Clytemnestra’s and Agamemnon’s house*

*Achilles and Patroclus open the door*

Patroclus: Hey, sorry we are late. We brought th-wait, where is everyone?

Achilles, chuckling: Don’t tell me we are actually early. Oh I am gonna-

Clytemnestra: KILL YOURSELF, YOU ASS!

Agamemnon: RIGHT BACK AT YOU SWEETIE!

(Incoherent Yelling)

Patroclus: What in the actual-

(Whispering) Menelaus: If you don’t get under here right now…

Achilles: Where are you, who was-

(Odysseus and Diomedes drag Achilles and Patroclus under the kitchen counter)

(Helen, Menelaus, Odysseus, Penelope, Diomedes, Hector, and Andromache are all hiding under the table)

Achilles: So why are we hiding under the table?

Diomedes: Do you not hear didgeridee and didgeridoo screaming and yelling like their chi-

Hector: Maybe we shouldn’t mention the “C” word right now.

Penelope: I swear if I never hear them argue again-

Helen: I need alcohol

Patroclus: Could someone-

Menelaus: Helen, no-

Patroclus: please tell us-

Helen: Alcohol, neow

Patroclus: Ok! Can someone explain what the fuck knuckles is going on with these two?

Odysseus: Of course darling. We found ourselves-

Diomedes: Ok, nope quick version. We came over for a house warning party, and in the middle of that-,

Odysseus: Cutting me off when I am trying speak. You know you can be a real bastard, right pet?

Diomedes: Bastard loves bastard, darling. Anyway, in the middle of that, Clytemnestra showed us a custom puzzle she made of their daughter. Very cute, very nice. Weirdly detailed. However Agamemnon has to be Agamemnon, and ruin good things in life. A tiktok account called ArtemisDares had a challenge to break something of your partners, something they loved to see their reaction. So Agamemnon made the asinine decision to break the puzzle she spent— how long did she say?

Penelope: She said “2 hours to find the perfect picture, 5 hours to put in her order because the commission site kept collapsing, and three days to put it together.” It was 2,000 pieces, and she was going to put it in a frame. I can’t even imagine..

Odysseus: Sweetheart, I-

Penelope: Yes I know you would never do that, you are leagues above him. We know this.

Diomedes: Do we?

Penelope: Not now darling. What can we do to-

*I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU WHEN I MET YOU, YOU WHORE*

*IF I WAS EASY TO KILL, YOU WOULD HAVE DONE IT ALREADY YOU FUCKING PUSSY*

*OH I AM GONNA-*

“COME AT ME BITCH*

*More incoherent screams, breaking of glass, grunts of pain*

Hector: We need to stop them before Iphigenia grows up without her parents.

Andromache: Right. You can go first baby. Tell us how that works out.

Helen: Sometimes I just want rip out Agamemnon’s vocal chords, and shove them down his ass.

Diomedes: A capital choice. Would you like help?

Odysseus/Penelope: No.

Hector: Ok, ok, but we have to do something before we have to talk to the police about-

Iphigenia: Aunty Pen, what is a va-vacuous moron?

Achilles: ……

Patroclus: …….

Diomedes: …….

Odysseus: ………

Penelope: …..

Hector: …….

Andromache: ……

Helen: ……

Menelaus:……

Achilles: Ah shit.

Menelaus: Oh come on, Achilles

Penelope: Honey, how about we talk…outside?

Iphigenia: Why? Mommy and Daddy loudly talking is normal. They turn on the tv for me and loudly talk. Sometimes they forget to turn it on and I hear everything.

Odysseus: Ice cream. That is the only way to fix this. And a good therapist. Let’s start with ice cream

Diomedes: Ok, everyone we have to time this perfectly. I think we aren’t in the mood for taking sides. Everyone good?

(The group nods)

Diomedes: Ok…wait…NOW!

Agamemnon: Oh look, Hector would you-

Clytemnestra: Shut up, Helen please tell him-

Odysseus:sorrywearekidnappingtyourchildbecauseyoubotharetoxictoeverybodybyeeeeeeeeeeeee

*They make it out the door*

Iphigenia: sooooo, what is a vacu-vaco-

Penelope: Let’s just get ice cream ok honey?

Diomedes: Can’t wait to do this shit next year.

Achilles: Another housewarming party? They just got this one.

Helen: They also get run out of every neighborhood they stay in due to the noise complaints. Two months, max.

Achilles:

Patroclus:

Helen: Welcome to the family.

[wyverndreamers]

WARNING for extensive talk about the dsmp and the characters in it !! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH CC'S THIS IS PURELY STORY BABBLE

loving the dsmp revival going on rn (maybe it's only on twt but i don't post on twt, so sorry for dsmp posting on this account) but i really don't like how a lot of the 'revival' is bringing back a lot of c!tommy's mischaracterization as a whole. i can understand the URGE to smooth him out, into something malleable and kind of babied, because for a while there he was just seen as this really annoying character in fandom spaces pertaining to the dsmp, but i see this urge around the internet to turn tommy into a 'perfect victim' with his trauma when that's just not true at all. i say this as a c!tommy enjoyer, i used to watch his pov's RELIGIOUSLY and i say this as someone who has an appreciation for his story and hate to see it cheapened by this constantly crying, blue sweater wearing blonde baby i see on my TL a lot. apart of what made c!tommy compelling is that at certain points he was very petty, and abrasive. he would act on impulse, and not always in a good way. a lot of the time, yeah it did good in the long run, but in the moment a lot of the stuff he does are stupid impulsive decisions that could've ended in FAR worse scenarios. people really like to hold up his trait of loyalty but completely ignore that his loyalty to a fault always came with a subtle sense of ENTITLEMENT that they were supposed to do right, because he was following him, kind of like how a child would be mortified seeing their parents doing something socially wrong like yelling at someone else. and a lot of people in the fandom actually LIKE this aspect of his character, but mostly because it can add to their characterization of him that is of inherent helplessness and childishness. and its usually painted as a good, pure trait to have, fully ignoring how a lot of his childishness is actually willful ignorance- especially in the face of his actions and how they'll effect people around them. he might bend eventually and mutter out a sorry, but that's not something he really WANTS to do. tommy is someone usually fully fixed in his own perspective and you can especially see it in the way that almost every other character at some point gets irritated at him FOR this in certain places in the narrative. and a lot of people would actually have you believe this is a good thing, because they actually view tommy as always having a perfect perspective on everything all the time. they think because he's the closest thing we have to a 'morally correct protagonist' that he is inherently morally correct and thus should be worshipped like the next messiah that will lead the revolution against the evil-doers. except, tommy just does not have that inherently morally correct perspective. yes he wants to do right, but his sense of 'right' is not always what is 'good'. bro literally tipped the initial domino that led to Doomsday happening, and that's not to say that anything that happened because of him burning down George's house was his fault (quite the opposite) but he also knowingly burnt down George's house knowing that George was friends with Dream, and having the full knowledge of what they could do at least to the extent of the L'manberg revolution where they literally had a traitor on the in betray them all. he recklessly incited George's (and again by proxy, Dream's) wrath because he did a reckless action. it's okay to call this behavior reckless and brash guys, that doesn't mean you're saying he deserved to be exiled. i could go on, but again i say this as an enjoyer of the c!tommy storyline and arcs he goes through. i just don't appreciate it when the thing that made his character so compelling, is cheapened down because the fandom cannot fathom the idea of liking a character that responds in complex ways to complex traumas. maybe some people relate too hard, IDK i just don't understand how you can praise a character for being human and then take out everything that MAKES the character feel so human sorry if this wasnt constructive or coherent, i didn't beta read my tumblr post

[nieceeee]

“WHERE TO NOW?”

PS: babydaddy!eren and y/n have been distancing themselves from one another. Eren wants to be with her but feels like her heart is in another place…or with another person. He and the boys discover exactly what’s going on as he is babysitting one night…

A/N: Angst, tension, fluff for the most part. Cussing, mention of the name babydoll. This is really for a 3 part series so don’t worry there will be plenty of lovey doves stuff towards the end if y’all want it. The other parts will be a little bit longer than this one. I had to play with your emotions before playing with your….nevermind. ENJOY!

W/C: 2.4K

PREVIOUS FICS TO READ: She’s Not Yours (its probably best to read the Eren playlist…if you’ve read them all, see if you can find the references from the previous fics in this one)

“You look amazing, baby doll.” His voice said from behind you, sending a chill down your spine. You took a deep breath to shake the nerves before you lifted your eyes and stared through the mirror at his. “Thank you Rennie.” You say with a soft smile. Things between you two had been…decent. Weeks after that very dramatic day that started with a bloody nose and ended with his ex hearing beating down yo block, time had seemed to blur together. Eren, freaking out about the entire situation, went back to try and talk to her, hoping to smooth things over which also led to another breakdown from her and him consoling her. And even though he admits nothing happened, the simple fact that he was there for her was something you couldn’t stand. And that alone had you questioning so many things. I mean you weren’t together and neither were they so why does who he has a connection with bother you so much. He said even though they weren’t dating at the time, he didn't want her to feel disrespected and assume you called her intentionally. You understood the sentiment although you didn't give a damn about what she assumed. But because of that, you were at a stand still not only with Eren but with your own emotions as well.

You both (more you than him) decided it would be best to give each other some time to figure out what you wanted to do when it came to the complications revolving around your relationship. Yes, the feelings were there but there was also a lot of unhealed trauma and damage that each of you needed to figure out. Eren wanted to be with you, he knew that without a doubt. The constant back and forth and the fallout of his other relationship taught him a few things and it was in those moments where he realized that you were the only person for him. His first real love, his best friend, the mother of his child. He couldn’t see himself being with anybody else again.

Unfortunately for him, you had other plans. You needed more time to sort through your feelings. The consistent pestering in your mind of what happened every time you had tried to make it work with him before would always rear its ugly head and you’d have to face the reality. No matter how much you wanted it to work, things with you and him were too complicated and with a baby in the mix, it was too much to lose. You were so sure about this but for some reason when you called him over to explain it, you had an wave of uneasiness in your belly. But you stayed the course, expressing to Eren that it wasn't a good idea for you all to jump back into a serious relationship after so much mess had happened. Did he understand? Hell no. Why is he okay to sleep in your bed but not enough to be your man. His heart shattered in pieces when you told him you wanted to keep it friendly but he wouldn't show it on his face. Not in front of you. He wanted you to know he respected your backwards ass decision.

So it seemed like you were back at square one, coparenting and some relationship that bordered between ‘my man my man my man’ and ‘oh we are just friends’. Granted none of your other male friends know how you taste, how you moan when your clit is sucked on, and how to hit that sweet spot that you could only reach when he has you pressed into the mattress, fingers splayed out on your back as he… “No.” you say verbally. It wasn't the time for that, not now or anywhere in the near future. You had made the decision and you had to stick beside it. But you knew that you had to get him out of your head. So you distanced yourself as much as you could, only allowing parental visits and no late night stays. No personal phone calls outside of communication about your son. Nothing to give any indication to the feelings you worked so hard on burying.

Eren hated it.

He hated every lost moment. He hated not being able to touch you. He hated waking up in an empty bed. He hated the way that you would stand on the other side of the room when he came to pick up his baby. It was exhausting but he stayed. It was another night out for you. Eren had come over to babysit and you were just finishing up getting ready when he stepped into the doorframe. You swipe the nude butter gloss over your lips once more, pressing them together to distribute the color when your eyes caught the piercing green ones burning into your skin. You both held each other’s gaze for a while, emotions mixed with arousal building underneath your skin. You forced your eyes to shift back down to your vanity, busying your hands with cleaning the space in front of you. Eren smirked behind you, shifting from leaning against the doorframe and placing his hands on the frame above. “So, you all set to go?” He asks you. “Uh, yeah I think so. I just have to grab some shoes.” You say getting up and walking over to your closet.

You look around at your shoes to find a pair that went well with your multicolored satin dress. The beautiful green, brown,and cream colors blended into a perfect gradient in the fabric and the straps fell gently off your shoulders. You looked down at your choice of cream colored shoes before reaching down and picking up the tie up stilettos, steering clear of the red bottoms. Eren noticed and held back his grin, thinking back to the last time you asked him to pick your shoes for you over FaceTime.

“Okay, all set.” You say, this time actually being ready. “Okay, he should be waking up from his nap in about 2 hours and there are plenty of bags of milk already thawed out. You went over the breakdown for the night, running him through the routine he already knew like the back of his hand. Eren knew you were doing it more so as a checklist for yourself so he allowed you to ramble. “Good?” You say finishing your last thought. “Yeah, all good.” You nod gently and make your way to the door. “Oh, Would it be cool if the guys stopped by later? They asked about lil man but I wanted to make sure you were okay with them being here first.” Eren asks. “Yeah, Ren of course. You know I don't mind them being here.” You say brows pulling together slightly. He shrugged his shoulders from the bottom of the stairs. “Just checking. Have fun.” Your lips part to say something but words seem to get lost. Eren keeps his eyes casted towards the floor, not having the strength to look up and see you leave.

“Eren…” you start but he shakes his head. “Go enjoy yourself babydoll.” You press your lips together then turn and walk out the door.

“YO! We here.” A voice calls from the door. Eren rolls his eyes. “You know you could just knock right?” He says to Ony as he opens the front door. “Where’s the fun in that?” He laughs before dapping him and walking inside. “Whats up with you bro? You good?” Connie says as they come through the doorway and walk towards the living room. “Now why you ask the man that. You know he down bad right now.” Armin teases plopping down on to the reclining chair close to the tv. “Oh so y'all got jokes now? Do we really want to have it out?” Eren says matter of factly. “It’s okay bruh, we know you down bad for your girl.” Ony laughed. “Right and how is that best friend relationship treating you?” Eren teases back. Connie and Armin bust out into laughter. “See that’s different, you actually had a relationship with your girl.” Ony groans slumping down into the seat.

“Okay, okay but all bullshit aside E, how are you doing with all this?” Armin turns, giving him his attention. Eren took a moment. “I-…not good man.” He admits to his friends. “I don't get it. Y’all have always been in this space right? So what’s the difference between then and now.” Connie questions. “The difference is she’s talking to somebody.” Eren says softly. The room seemed to stand still at his confession. “What do you mean ‘talking’? Like the same guy?” Armin sits up, his stare intense. This was new for all of you. As long as you and Eren had been together, the guys have always been there. Even through the breakups you would never find yourself in another relationship. Fucking around was different but being committed to any guy besides Eren was not your thing.

Until now.

“I mean the past few date nights has been the same guy. I know I tripped out the Jean situation but they were just fucking. This ‘Reiner’ dude or whoever he is, she’s dating him man. Like sending flowers and love notes, brunches, and day trips type of shit.” Eren groans “Oh shit…” Ony whispered under his breath. “Yeah, exactly.” Eren’s shoulders slump slightly as he shook his head. “Well, E it might just be a phase. Don’t give up on it bro. If you work hard enough at it things have a way of sorting themselves out.” Connie says collecting stares from around the room. “What?” He says confused. “When the fuck did you get some common sense?” Ony asks. “Yeah, that’s my role.” Armin retorts. Eren begins to chuckle which turns into a full on laugh out loud followed by everyone else. “Man fuck yall. I’m just trying to help my boy out.” Connie tries defending himself through the noise.

The sound of baby whimpers from the monitor pulls Eren’s attention. He stands up and walks back up the steps towards his son’s room. He sat up in the crib rubbing his chunky fists into his eyes. Eren walks over and lifts him carefully from the bed, adjusting him and holding him against his hip. “What’s up little man. You all good? Daddy’s here.” He cooes. His son tilts his head up, sleep still in his eyes and offers his daddy a gentle smile. “Yeah, daddy’s here. Come on let’s go downstairs and see your uncles.”

“Aw man there go my lil homie.” Connie says as Eren comes back downs he steps. “Man he don't even like you. You know I'm his favorite.” Ony speaks getting up from the couch. They follow Eren into the kitchen as he takes out a few bags of the breast milk you left to warm up. “Y’all doing all that talking but yet I’m the goddaddy.” Armin smirks, slipping around the counter and grabbing the baby from Eren. He giggles, reaching out and squeezing Armin’s face. “Man, he looks just like Y/N. It’s still crazy to think yall got a baby together.” He says, shaking his head. “I know right. I still can't believe it myself sometimes.” It was true. Eren looks down at your son again and his chest swells with pride. It was so surreal to have something that was created from him and the person he cared for the most. As they sit around and conversation Eren takes the time to warm up the milk, grabbing his phone from his pocket. A text message dings from an unknown number.

He pulls up the attachment sent to his phone. “What the fuck…” his eyes squint as he stares down at the video loading before him. “What. The. Fuck?!” Eren says a little louder, catching the attention in the room. “Yo E, you good man?” Ony asks. Eren’s ears started to ring as anger swirled through his veins. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “Eren, talk to us man, what's going on?” Connie says. “Aye Min, can you put him in his playpen with the bottle please.” Eren strains, trying to keep him composure around his son. Armin nods quickly working to get the baby and setting him in his safe area. “Okay, what’s up?” He says as he walks back into the kitchen. Eren sits his phone down and slides it across the counter to his friends. They hovered around the screen and watched as you made out against a car outside of the restaurant. Reiners hands sliding all over your body as he kisses your lips and down the side of your neck. Your giggles fill the air as your hands slip up to the back of his head.

“Oh shit.” They say in unison before looking back up at Eren who was pacing across the floor. His vision began to blur as his fists clenched and unclenched. “E, you got to chill bruh. You can't overreact on this one. Come on.” Armin says in a calming voice. “Yeah E, you got to breathe man.” Ony reassures him. “I know. I know, man. FUCK, I know. I just-…” He didn't know what to do. Eren swipes his hands down his face as the burning behind his eyes intensifies. There was a silence that swept through the air. A heavy silence that was filled with uncertainty and fear. Eren had never felt this feeling of unease before. Not with you. But the fear of what this meant for you both. Is this the end of you and him for good? The nerves cause his emotions to overwhelm him as he slumps down to the floor. Armin, Connie, and Ony come and sit down next to him. No words could explain but they stayed with him, allowing him to process everything.

“What am I supposed to do man?” He asks no one in particular. “Do what you can. One day at a time.” Armin says. Eyes shifted up at the ceiling until the burning went away. He took a deep breath. Judging from the angle of the video, he knew you knew nothing about being recorded. So the only things on his mine were, who the fuck was following you and how was he going to face you when you got home…

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Does Elrelda have a government? Like as in like, nationwide level or planetary level administration? Like are Elreldians aware that the company that they make a tourist partnership with sometimes dabble in the Art of Human Trafficking?

Like is it legal to do what Arrin did? Or is Arrin just taking advantage of the fact that he is the chief and a well loved and respected one at that? Like yeah, Synthis is probably the Space Age version of Disney/Amazon but do the general population of Elrelda not know the probably illegal shit that Synthis (and their sister companies) pulls or is it just the people with the money, power, and authority (or the desire for a cute, submissive, and breedable human)?

How does it even work? Like did Arrin (and other human fuckers) just go to a random branch office and go “I want a cute human mate. Preferably soft, squishy, submissive, breedable, and T H I C C" and they were just “Aight, gotchu”. Then they just showed him a list and he just pointed at our pic and went “I want that one”? Tinder but much more hands-on with a smidge of human trafficking. Then Synthis just gave us a discount coupon when the time came for us to go to Elrelda (thank god, we didn't bring a date so we can share the expenses so that we can afford a nicer ship)

Or did Synthis just give their employees that were to be sold discount coupons to different place and have their buyers see their prospective mates for themselves? The ones not chosen getting to return to their homes not knowing they were almost going to have their lives uprooted?

Or did only Arrin just get the special treatment because of the partnership between his herd and Synthis' business?

Speaking of humans, why are humans regarded as status symbols for a chief to show power? Is it because l average humans are generally smaller and squishier than the average Elreldian, and the fact that the human they're with is healthy, safe, and happy a sign that their mate is strong and a capable provider while still skilled enough not to hurt them?

I know it's just a (really good and indulgent) smutty one shot but holy fuck, there is something to be said about the unexpectedly thought-provoking world building you did

It has been so long since I wrote that so I apologize if any of my answers conflict with the story.

Elrelda is ruled by regional chiefs who occassionally gather to make big decisions that impact more than one region and to facilitate trading arrangements.

I feel like in general the Elreldians don't care about the illegal stuff too much off their planet as long as Synthis is decent to them and they don't care that their chiefs can get humans as long as they aren't abused.

Anyone can get a human as long as they have rare resources that Synthis wants and the corporation is very good at covering it all up.

Arrin probably heard from another chief about the human "dating" program and contacted his local Synthis rep about it and picked from a list of potential mates with traits he desired.

Then, yes, that potential mate gets a free trip so they can be scouted and if they aren't chosen they return home and the next match is offered the trip.

They are seen as a status symbol because they are alien and because they are so soft and cute.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 10

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?! I'm finally posting Part 10 after an unplanned/unexpected hiatus?

Yes. I am. Sorry for the long wait!

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst, HYDRA experimentation, mentions of death. (Dear sweet Hyunjin in the gif below also a CW for myself and other Stays)

Word Count: 3,075

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9]

You hear Bucky’s key rattle in the front door and the soft snick as it closes downstairs. You’d arrived at your shared home only minutes ago, but that was plenty of time for you to race upstairs, lock your door, and start bawling into the pillow. You hiccup and choke, suffocating the sounds into the cotton fabric clenched between your teeth. 

Why?! Why did Bucky have to go and say that shit? As much as you had hoped and begged the universe for Bucky to say those words to you earlier this year, it responds to your pleas now?! You’ve spent months resigning yourself to having him as a friend only – that’s what he said he wanted! 

Why would he change his mind? Is it because he’s had a change of heart? Doubtful. Bucky was very certain in his decision to shut you down and out of his life. So what? Is it because you’re hanging out with Petre? Is he jealous? How? Why?

Bucky’s actions towards you tonight make no sense. Why would he say something that he knew would upset you? And if he didn’t think they’d upset you, what’d he expect? That you’d run and leap into his arms, no more words needed? Why the hell would he think that’s what would happen? He can’t just act like he didn’t completely eviscerate your heart that night in the alley and that morning in the kitchen. 

Those days are burned into your memory, not a day goes by that you don’t remember the way your words affected him and his response. He was so betrayed and angry that he lashed out at you for admitting that you wanted more than the no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits situation that you had. 

But now – now! – he wants to say you could be together? Together in what way? As fuck-buddies again? Hell no. There’s no way that you will ever put yourself through that pain and hardship again. Not for him, not for anybody. You want something real. 

You’d wanted something real with Bucky, but he’d shot you down as soon as you’d brought it up.

Bucky’s footsteps shuffle from the front door and up the stairs, stopping just outside your door. You hold your breath but continue to flinch as your lungs spasm on unuttered cries.

A soft rap sounds at your door and Bucky murmurs your name softly into the doorjamb. You squeeze your eyes shut and keep your voice as calm and level as possible, but it still cracks when you say his name. “Leave me alone, Bucky.”

“Doll, I –”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You respond vehemently, chucking your wet pillow at the door. It smacks against the wood with a thwump and lands in a sad heap on the floor. It looks just like how you feel. “Just go away.”

You can hear Bucky suck in a shaky breath, but you refuse to picture his watery eyes and quivering lip. He has a right to feel like shit, but you are under no obligation to try and assuage his guilt when he’s the one that caused this whole mess.

His bare feet tread across the hallway and into his bedroom, his bedroom door barely making any sound as he closes it behind him. His shower starts up a few seconds later and stays on for nearly an hour. After that, his bed creaks and there’s not another sound to be heard.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

“I need to leave.”

“What?” Nat hisses through the phone. It may be 4 am here, but the team is having dinner together right now back in New York. Nat’s whispering voice is her attempt at keeping this conversation between the two of you while she walks away from the dining room to talk. You can hear her boot-clad leg thunk, thunk, thunk its way across the hardwood floors as she finds privacy.

“I need to get away from Bucky,” you explain further.

“What did that fucker do this time?” Nat questions menacingly, already gearing up to kick Bucky’s ass with no information.

You heave a sigh and watch your breath fog in the air, the cloud hanging heavy in front of your face before slowly dissipating in the humid, cold air. “He… he said something about us. As in, him and I. Like we could go back to how we were.” You bite your chapped lips and worry the dry pieces of skin with your teeth. “I didn’t handle it very well.”

Nat is silent for a long moment, the other end of the line buzzing over the long distance. Finally, she says, “He said he wanted to be friends with benefits again?”

“Well not exactly,” you hedge. “He got all weird and jealous when I was hanging out with Petre last night like I always do. We got into a fight and he said that it could be us sneaking off together like we used to and I just… I lost it.” You hurriedly wipe an oncoming tear out of your eye, surprised you’re even hydrated enough to produce anything after last night’s sob fest. You suck in a shaky breath and continue. “Nat, I can’t do it again. I can’t.”

“I know, honey,” Nat consoles, her voice soft as she shushes you. “I won’t let you do that to yourself again, either. You know I’m here for you – and so is the rest of the team.” You make a questioning noise at that last part and Nat explains. “Well… the whole team kind of knows why you left.”

“...they do?” You press the palm not holding your phone against your forehead, pushing hard to focus on anything but the embarrassment the situation makes you feel. You chuckle humorlessly and say, “Everybody must think I’m pathetic now.”

“We absolutely do not,” Nat states defensively. “Wanda and I were giving him so much shit after you left and no one knew why – Bucky eventually had to tell everyone after I nearly put him in a coma when he finally found the guts to spar with me.”

You do crack a genuine smile and laugh at that. “You’re telling me Wanda was mean to him?”

“Well, I mean,” Nat laughs as well, “she didn’t put smiley faces on his pancakes when she made everybody breakfast. Trust me when I say everyone noticed her displeasure with him.”

You feel the overwhelming urge to wrap Nat and Wanda up in hugs that are long overdue. The love for your friends overflows from your heart and manifests in your words: “I love you guys so much.” It’s no substitute for the hugs you want to give, but it’s all you can offer at the moment.

“We love you, too,” Nat replies. You’re both quiet for a moment, you soaking in the silence of the frozen outdoors and Nat chewing on the question you can practically hear filling her mouth and pushing against her lips.

You sigh heavily. “Out with it, Nat.”

She sucks in a breath before starting. “You know I’m always on your side…”

“Uh-huh.”

“...but are you sure that’s what Bucky meant?” she finishes.

“Huh?” you question dumbly. “What else could he have meant? He accused me of going off and fucking Petre every time we left a room – TMI, but that’s exactly what Bucky and I used to do. So when Bucky said we could be like that, I don’t see how he could have meant anything else.”

You hear a smack from Nat’s side of the line and a grumbled ‘stupid motherfucker…’ before she composes herself and resumes the conversation. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Not particularly,” you respond. “I’d rather you just come and get me.”

“You know I would in a heartbeat, but this mission took a long time to set up…”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t actually leave over this, but it’s just nice to know that you’d come and get me if I asked.”

“Always,” she says. 

You and Nat chat for a little longer before you end the call, citing your need to head into ‘work’ soon. You hang up, feeling better for having spoken with your best friend. 

Your improved mood lets you ponder on what Nat was trying to get at about Bucky’s intentions. Does she know something you don’t? The answer is likely yes, her being who she is and all. But if she has reason to doubt your interpretation of Bucky’s actions last night, don’t you owe it to yourself to find out for sure?

Mind made up, you send a short text to Bucky. 

Can we talk?

A few seconds pass as you type out a follow-up message, but you’re interrupted by Bucky’s text.

You’re not here. Where are you?

You smile at the realization that Bucky had to have sprinted to your room, saw your empty bed, and then searched the entire house in record time before sending his text.

Your stomach fills with anticipatory nervousness, but you remind yourself that you’ve already gone through hell without Bucky once, so if there’s something in the way of being in each other’s lives you need to clear it up.

I’m getting an early start at work. I’ll call you during lunch?

Please. 

***

The morning rushes by in a blur. Your tasks take you up, down, and around areas of the HYDRA facility you’ve never had access to before. You can’t be seen lingering around any certain area, but you take every opportunity to peek inside rooms and hallways when no one else is around. 

There’s one particular hallway that catches your attention – not because there’s any screaming or moaning coming from the cells along the walls, but because there is a steady beep, beep, beeping coming from multiple heart rate monitors. 

You’re unable to investigate since a scientist with dark hair stands at one of the open cells at the end of the hall. His clipboard hangs down at his side as his other hand rests on the doorjamb as he watches whatever is happening inside. He’s too far away for you to get a good look at him, but his height and build seem… familiar. You stare for long seconds as he continues to linger, wracking your brain for how you recognize him, but footsteps down your hallway cause the man to startle and scurry away in the opposite direction.

The person who scared the man away rounds the corner towards you. You recognize them as the scientist that had sent you down here in the first place. Quickening your pace, you rush over to them.

“Hello, sir. Here are the materials you requested.”

“Yes, quite,” the man says as he takes the samples from your hands. 

He riffles through the sealed bags and paper work, a concentrated look on his face. You stand politely next to him, your hands folded in front of you while you wait for a dismissal.

“Argh!” the scientist exclaims in anger. “That absolute buffoon! She can’t even label correctly.” He looks up and pins you with a cold stare. “You. Go collect the bloodwork – and do it correctly!” 

He shoves a piece of paper with the subject’s ID number and location into your chest. You reach up quickly to catch it and bow your head in deference. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

He storms off, stomping his way to presumably berate the poor technician who collected the samples the first time. 

You sigh, glancing down at your phone. It’s well-past lunchtime and you need to call Bucky, but this task needs to be completed first. You’ll call Bucky soon and hopefully he’ll apologize and clear everything up. The anxiety from this morning returns and causes your stomach to tighten and a lump to form in your throat.

It’s okay, you tell yourself. He’s been trying to apologize since it happened. If he confesses the reason behind why he got weirdly jealous last night, you will tell him that he has no reason to be – that there hasn’t been anyone for him to be jealous over. Especially not a civilian during an undercover mission. 

Would that be too much? Would he think that if you haven’t been with anyone since you left that you’re still hung up on him? Even though you told him you’d never actually loved him (a massive, bald-faced lie), would he still accept your words at face value even when your actions contradict them?

Why did he say all that last night? 

If he doesn’t want to have any kind of intimacy with you, why’d he suggest being friends with benefits again? Did he suggest being friends with benefits again? It certainly seemed like that was what he was implying, but Nat’s words from this morning makes you doubt your assumption. 

If he wasn’t talking about reverting back to your situationship that you both clearly regretted – for different reasons – then what?

Ugh, you sigh. This is too much. You’ll figure it out when you call him.

You find the medical supply closet and collect the needles, tourniquets, vials, and labels necessary for the samples. Looking down the list, you see that the location is actually the hallway you were interested in earlier. Gathering your supplies onto a cart, you head out.

***

You’ve collected two of the samples when you run into Olaf, the contact you last spoke with when you first arrived. You had just left Subject #268’s room and nearly ran right into the man.

“Oh, hello,” you greet sincerely before registering the wild look in his eyes and his bloodless face. “What’s wrong?”

Olaf shoves you back into the room and looks around frantically. “I need to go,” he states, frightened. “I need to leave and I have to take my family with me.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you murmur, setting your hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths.” You show him an exaggerated inhale and exhale, staring into his eyes and trying to calm him down. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The breathing exercise does nothing for him. Olaf grabs your hand and squeezes hard. “They know.”

“They know?” you question. “Who knows what?”

“They know that I contacted the Avengers!” He nearly shouts. You shush him with your other hand over his mouth, but he rips it away and continues. “They know I brought you here and that we’re trying to shut this place down.”

“Hold up,” you plead. Your heart races in your chest at the implications. “Why do you say that?”

“I heard them!” he rasps. “I heard them discussing the ‘rats in the organization’ and that they’re finally ready to get rid of them.”

“And you think that’s us? Why?”

“Why else would they mention my name and the Avengers in the same sentence moments later?!” Tears leak down Olaf’s face and his breaths heave in and out of his chest.

“Okay. Okay,” you say, a million thoughts and plans running through your mind. “Get out of here. Go get your family and run – it doesn’t matter if you look suspicious since they’re already aware of the situation.”

Olaf nods his head rapidly and starts to back out of the door and into the hall. “What about you?” he questions weakly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll wrap things up here. Just go!”

He nods again and turns to run down the hall, but stops dead in his tracks. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling invades you. You step out into the hallway and find…

“Petre?” you whisper.

Petre stands there, with his dark hair and clipboard – he’s the one you saw in this hallway earlier. Your brain short-circuits while trying to put all the information together. 

You hear Olar whimper behind you. You turn your head and mutter quickly: “Go.” Olaf bolts down the hallway and out of sight.

You turn back to face Petre, his eyes wide and breathing heavy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him. “How much did you just hear?”

Petre hesitates for a moment before responding. “Enough.”

“Petre,” your voice is hard. “What are you doing here?”

“They…” his lip quivers. “They have my sister.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. “They have Sasha? I thought she was just sick?”

“She is,” he says. “They said that they’re the only ones who can cure her, so my parents… we agreed to their treatment plan. But then they started asking for more and more things – things mother and father weren’t comfortable with. But they said we have to comply if we want Sasha to get better – so I came here at their demand.”

You suck in a deep breath. Something about Petre’s broken, dejected demeanor sends a wave of foreboding through you. “Grab Sasha and run, Petre. You know who I am now. I can help you.”

Petre shakes his head sadly. “She’ll die.”

“No. No, Dr. Cho can figure out what’s wrong – she can help Sasha.” But Petre’s head continues to shake.

“They give her something everyday, something that will kill her if she doesn’t receive her next dose at the correct time. I… I’m sorry. I have to protect my sister.”

A tear slips down Petre’s cheek as he begins to back away from you.

“Petre, please,” you beg. “Give me five minutes.”

“I can’t,” he whispers, and takes off.

You curse and start running. The only thing you can do is get to the control room and wreak havoc. You thunder through the hallways of the compound, dodging scientists and slamming and locking the doors that separate different wings from each other. 

The lights shut off. A loud, blaring siren rings through the facility and emergency lights flash red. On, off. On, off. Your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, then are assaulted by the light only fractions of a second later – the strobing effect causing the scene to look like stop-motion animation. 

You recognize the area you’re in, realizing that the control room is only a few doors away. Shouting and the clambering of combat boots to your left catches your attention. A whole host of agents run towards you, weapons drawn. 

You put on a burst of speed, grabbing the control room door jamb and swinging inside. You close the door and drag a desk to barricade it – it won’t hold for long, but it’s better than nothing. You turn to find several men rising from their desks, startled looks on their faces.

Grimacing, you begin the arduous task of taking lives.

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

Part 11

[grimace-writes]

New Kid in Town *.•.*• No. 2

GN!Reader x Task Force 141 (feat. Alejandro + Roldolfo)

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

Summary: The Reader must show the team what they are made of during a sparing session with Ghost.

Word count: 1449

(3rd Person POV | They/Them so anyone can read :) | Early to Mid Twenties) [Unfortunately contains Google translated Spanish...I apologize (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) Also the Reader is written to be a badass, they deserve it]

[Enjoy! (๑ º ᗜ &lt;; ๑) ノ♡ ]

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Their 141 and MSF friends were really like their own little found family, who functioned mostly by themselves in their own little corner of the base. There were plenty of other teams that shared the other factions of the base, though it seemed rare to see them as Price and the gang were higher on the food chain. The captain made sure they all participated in training with the recruits or other teams for missions, along with helping the other teams on certain larger missions. Seeing as {Y/N} was still fresh meat themselves, they were exempted from participating in group training until the next week. Price wanted to gauge their skill first hand before releasing them to the populous.

“Thanks for the meal, guys..It was good. I hope whatever I make will be up to par like this..” {Y/N} said standing from their place at the table to grab all the empty dishes.

“I’m sure it’s going to be just fine and you are very welcome.” Rudy says, handing his plate to them with a smile before grabbing the leftovers to pack up.

“Sí, estaba delicioso. Gracias, mi amigos.” (*Yes, it was delicious. Thank you, my friends.*) Alejandro joined in collecting the dishes to help with cleaning.

Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost stayed seated as the three went to the kitchen with the mess from the table. {Y/N} rinsed and scrubbed the plates as Ale wiped and put them away, he made sure to explain where each item went. Ghost and Price seemed to be talking about work things as Price’s eyebrows furrowed when {Y/N} glanced at him as they put dishes away. {Y/N} met the Captain's gaze which softened the older man’s expression, “Mind coming over here a sec, {C/N}?”

{Y/N} nodded, excusing themself from their task wiping their hands dry before making their way over to the two superior officers. “Yes?”

“With the day still young, Ol’ Ghost here suggests we start your training early. This will give us the opportunity to get a head start on your training regime, if you are up to it that is. It’d be understandable if you need a full day to get settled, though we’d have to start tomorrow at the latest.” Price paused to finish the remnants of coffee in a mug that read ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ in comical lettering as he let {Y/N} mull over the options. It didn’t take long for their answer, they were eager to get started mixed with the anxiety they felt earlier fed their decision.

“Good choice, hen. You two can discuss the details more at the training halls, for now best go back to your previous task.” Price them a smile, cheekily sliding his empty mug towards {Y/N} causing them to snort as they took the glass.

˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

{Y/N} sighed, wiping the dampness from their hands on the front of their pants. They went to the restroom before they went to the session, which separated them Soap and Ghost who were walking with them to the training halls. With a quickened pace they made their way through the halls to their destination, Ghost stood alone by the sparring mats in a room filled with various types of gym equipment.

“Thanks for your patience, sir.” They said jogging over to him, “Where did the sergeant go?”

A pair of silent footsteps made their way to the pair, making a direct beeline towards {Y/N}, who had their back to their attacker. The person held out a ‘knife’ going to sneak attack them, though their plan was foiled by {Y/N} slamming their heel into his foot. With swift action they rounded a kick backwards, hitting the person in the stomach sending him to the floor. They held their fists up to shield themselves from anymore onslaught, a deep grimace in their face as they looked to their attacker.

Soap laid on his side groaning, one hand on his stomach, the other holding his foot. Ghost looked dumbfounded as Soap began to laugh, “That's pure class! How did ya dae that?"

"I took self-defense classes during intermediate (middle) school, then Karate and gymnastics as my electives all throughout secondary (high) school," {Y/N} picked up the discarded rubber knife pointing towards Soap and straightened their posture. They earned themselves confused looks (well eyes in Ghost’s case), which made them feel a little self conscious. “What can I say? I was a military brat, raised by two overprotective commanders who wanted to make sure no one could ever hurt me.”

‘Plus my mentor made sure I could survive any circumstance during the summers, but that’s a story for another day.’ They thought to themselves with a shiver of the memories of those days.

“You’re need for private sessions makes more sense, now” The poor beaten up Scottish man said, he was hoisted up by Ghost. Soap groaned when he put pressure on his foot but was fine otherwise (his pride was more damaged than anything). “You really are something else, best to rein in those feral tendencies, huh? Though one of these days, you mind showing me how ya dae that?” Mactavish walked over to {Y/N} to give them a friendly victory shake, which they gladly took with a smile.

“Maybe, suds.” They said jokingly back.

{Y/N}’s actions made the silent lieutenant more intrigued by them, their skills and techniques seems to match the intel in their file. He felt like he was going to have to take their match more seriously now, it broke his cold persona making him chuckle. “{C/N}. You may have been able to defeat an opponent sneaking up on you..” Ghost crossed his arms leaning back into his full height, tilting his head to the side to stare down at them. “..Let’s find out how good you are against an opponent head on.”

{Y/N} placed their hands on their hips, matching the lieutenant’s gaze before making their way onto the actual training mate. They held the rubber knife to Ghost as he walked over, he shook his head in response.

“Nope, you are going to be the attacker for this exercise.”

{Y/N} gave him a confused look for a second, the plan they quickly came up with went out the window. Having the new prompt they quickly formulated a new plan, with Soap it was easier to find his weak spot and exploit them (plus natural instinct for self preservation). Ghost’s masked expressions mixed with the overall difficulty to read his body language, made this a harder challenge.

‘Attacking the lieutenant, this is a life or death moment..Fight like you are gonna die..’ {Y/N} thought as they moved into an offensive position, Ghost grunted in satisfaction as he matched them in defense.

‘My only chance will be to catch him off guard, he’s probably expecting me to run up and attack..Perfect.’ They stepped forward letting their guard down, making their way to the very confused lieutenant. Ghost held his guard as they twirled the knife in their hand quickening their pace. Once they were at arms length the lieutenant went to swing at them, not taking any chances for them to gain any more ground towards him. {Y/N}’s slid their foot back into a slight fencing lunge, narrowly avoiding Ghost’s fist from colliding with their face, they harshly clapped their hands upwards towards Ghost’s face. This abnormal technique caused Ghost to blink briefly, giving them the tiniest advantage they were gambling for.

{Y/N} grabbed his extended arm, which made Ghost tense and held himself grounded, allowing them to swing through the small space between his legs. They let him go as they slid quickly twisting their body, pouncing up to hop on his back and wrapped their legs around his waist. Ghost grunted as Y/N held the knife against his throat, their other arm wrapped under his arm as they rested their head on his shoulder. “I think I handled myself pretty well, Lieutenant. I win..”

A loud whistle followed by group clapping ran through the empty space, Price and Gaz snuck in to join Soap to watch the match. {Y/N} released Ghost as they gently got off him, feeling awkward with the peanut gallery seeing them clinging to the lieutenant. They cleared their throat taking a step away from Ghost, an expression explaining how they felt clear on their face.

“You did good..” Ghost’s voice cut through praise of the others, he wasn’t the type to easily give out compliments. {Y/N}’s chest filled with pride, “Thank you, sir.”

To be continued..

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Author's Note: If you recognize the technique that inspired the Reader’s, you get 5 gold stars ⭐. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. Let me know what you thought of it, Love Love~ (o´ ω `o)💕💕

| No.1 | No.2 | No.3 | No.4 | Masterlist |

[https-florals]

you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 2k

summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of  questionable decisions.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.

a/n:  FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!

Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.

Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.

You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature. 

“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh. 

He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.

“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”

You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.

You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.

A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?

rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?

Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.

The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.

The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.

You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.

And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.

So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill. 

When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.

He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.

Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress. 

There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak. 

“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.

“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”

You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”

He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.

“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.

“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.

“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.” 

He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.

But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.

“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.

He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.

You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.

Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”

His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.

You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.

“Rafe?”

“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.

You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”

Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”

You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”

“Casual?” he repeats.

“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”

He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak. 

“Okay, just sex. Why?”

It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously. 

You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”

He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.

You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”

“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.

“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”

He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.

“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”

“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.

He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”

Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.

You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”

Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.

“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”

His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.

“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything. 

He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.

You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”

“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.

“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”

He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”

“And no calling me baby.”

Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting: Wutugald Results

All right, time to see what everyone came up with for the Wutugald! Again, if that statement confuses you, you may find an explanation at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting . If you want a refresher on the description the artists were working with, here is the original post:

This was a pretty good creature to start with, I think; the random number generator did us a solid with this one. It laid to rest some concerns I had: will people be able to put aside their real-world knowledge of these animals and draw as if they had never heard of them? Yes, apparently -- a number of comments and notes indicated that several participants had guessed what the Wutugald was, refrained from sharing that information, and drew something that fit the description while being nevertheless a fully distinct animal. I was also concerned about some of the upcoming entries that specify a type of animal (bird, serpent, &c.), wondering if that constraint would be a problem -- but a number of people drew some Very Good Birds for this one, so I feel reassured that future entries that are Explicitly A Bird will still be material we can have fun with.

So, let's see what people created. I'm putting these in roughly the order in which they appeared, below the cut:

@cosmic-flora (link to post here) produced this in Paint pretty shortly after the original post went up, and posted it with a brief explanation of their design decisions -- they were the first but not the last to interpret the rigid spine as spikes and the single tooth as a beak, and also to provide the creature with claws for digging.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) was also quick off the mark, posting this the same evening along with an explanation of their design process. I'm genuinely impressed by how quickly they were able to draw something so naturalistic -- this went up within like four hours of the original post. This was also the first (but again not the last) to include an apparent reference to the Wutugald's ability to change sex by including both male genitalia and noticeable teats. Also, I wonder if the coat pattern on the baby is a sneaky reference to the animal this is based on, as Silverhart does indicate that they figured it out.

@elodieunderglass (link to post here) created this rendition, which I think does a good job at capturing the vibe in the bestiary entry, of a creature that the medieval author clearly sees as discomfiting and somewhat sinister. That is a grin that makes me worry about the critter's intentions.

@geeoharee (link to post here) posted this along with a brief explanation of their design decisions. The human face and the speech bubble are great, I think -- it makes me smile. I think this is the first non-mammalian Wutugald, but several more come later.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) drew this with a dip pen, apparently, which is cool. Also this might be the cuddliest-looking version, but my desire to hug it probably says more about my own sense of self-preservation than anything else. That is a cute face, right? It's not just me?

@cinqueform (link to post here) produced this wonderfully medieval-styled image. We can see here the ruler-straight spine and the depiction of the Wutugald's sexual ambiguity, as well as a human-like face for imitating speech. Also a very nice stylized letter W.

@rautavaara (link to post here) has also done a medieval-style rendition, which is excellently sinister in presentation. That is a Worrying Creature. It's also the first (but again not the last) avian interpretation of the Wutugald, which I think really works. Also I'm not sure if this is a sneaky nod to what the animal actually is, or just a case of "great minds think alike", but Rautavaara's interpretation of the rigid spine is very similar to the one in the actual Aberdeen Bestiary illustration I will show y'all at the end of this post.

@spontaneousmusicalnumber (link to post here) posted this along with a brief explanation of their design process. I think they're right about the side pattern being appropriate for a bestiary critter.

@strixcattus (link to post here) did another avian rendition of the Wutugald complete with a fantastic lengthy reinterpretation of the bestiary entry through the eyes of a modern naturalist. Seriously, go check that out, it's very good.

@fidgetyhands (link to post here) provides this image of the Wutugald along with an explanation of their design choices. They also note that limitations in terms of artistic material are probably relevant to a lot of bestiary drawings.

@jamiethekeener (link to post here) gives us this Wutugald in the act of digging. She instructs that we should not ask why her interpretation of Wutugald ended up being so unsettling, which I cannot deny that it is. (That smile... that damn smile.) I also want to highlight the interpretation of the rigid spine as a shield-like plate along the back.

@thewhetherman (link to post here) gives us this rather-frightening-looking creature, along with a brief commentary that definitely ups the spook factor on this whole thing.

@bruncikara (link to post here) also went with a medieval stylization, with a very period-appropriate pose and frame. We can see again some digging claws and a nod to the animal's sexual ambiguity. Wicked-looking single tooth, also.

@mobileleprechaun (link to post here) has given us what I think is our only invertebrate Wutugald by interpreting the rigid spine as a shell and the single tooth as a radula. Shown here with its half-lion offspring.

@illogarithmil (link to post here) has also taken inspiration from medieval bestiary art, noting the unusual color and perspective choices typical of the genre. Note the straight tail, the skull, and the doorway in the background -- presumably into a tomb of some sort. The diamond-pupilled eye is striking.

@qwertyprophecy (link to post here) gives us this Wutugald who manages to strike an excellent balance between "cute" and "villainous". Like, I would expect to see these hopping around to signal that the Protagonists have entered the Sinister Fantasy Kingdom, but it's also kind of adorable. I think the gemstone pupil helps with that vibe. Vulture face is for easier eating of corpses, I assume.

@aaclysm (link to post here) provides both a final version and a "messy bus sketch". We can see the stone-like eyes, the single tooth interpreted as a beak, and the rigid spine interpreted as a carapace. Kind of griffin-like vibes, which I'm enjoying.

@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) gives us this drawing, which has some delightful details. I like the lines on the shadow, which I assume is meant to indicate the magical effects associated with it. Also love that the Wutugald's ability to change sex is acknowledged by giving it a little trans-pride flag to wave with its tail. I believe the text in its speech bubble is intended to be word-salad, demonstrating that it imitates but does not understand human speech.

@pachelbelsheadcanon (link to post here) gives us another very cute Wutugald. (More of these than I expected are downright cuddly.) I'm particularly delighted by the attempt to take the whole "single tooth that closes like a casket" thing at its word and make it work. They provide in their post an explanation of what's going on with that and some other interesting zoological details of their creation. I also enjoy the idea that the Wutugald talks like bot-generated spam.

@changeinenthalpy (link to post here) has produced this fairly-intimidating-looking critter. This definitely looks like something that could dig up and eat a corpse if it wanted. Nasty claws on that beast. The shiny gemstone eyes give it an unsettling gaze also.

@aethergeologist (link to post here) gives us this creature, which I both want to pet and also want to keep a healthy distance from because those claws look like they could mess you up. They provide an explanation for their design choices in the linked post.

@karthara (link to post here) has added to our store of avian Wutugalds, and includes a brief explanation of their design choices in the linked post. I like how happy it seems in the side view -- all excited about its corpse-digging plans for the evening.

@moustawott (link to post here) created this delightfully prehistoric-looking beast, and provides a detailed account of their design choices in the linked post. I think the snapping-turtle face really works here, and this is probably one of the most dangerous-looking interpretations of the Wutugald.

@cattorneyatlaw (link to post here) has drawn an unusually porcine Wutugald. Probably one of the spookier pig drawings I've seen. They provide an explanation of their design choices -- including "why a pig" -- in the linked post.

@curiouslyodd (link to post here) has given us a Wutugald with a very unsettling face and an interesting fur pattern. In the linked post, they not only provide an explanation of their design choices, but also a detailed and well-written reinterpretation of the bestiary entry based on the animal as they have drawn it. Go check that out.

@treesurface (link to post here) has done an interestingly chimeric Wutugald, and includes a brief explanation of their design choices in the linked post. I like the head particularly.

And... hm. We're not going to be able to fit all of the images in one post. The limit is thirty, right? Stay tuned for a bit, I guess. The remaining Wutugalds will be in a reblog of this post, along with the reveal of the animal's identity and the Aberdeen Bestiary's interpretation of the creature.

[clumsykleptorocketscientist]

Can I just say, whoever Nancy ends up with, be it Jonathan or Steve or neither, it is not what matters the most about her character. HOWEVER, I really don't think she should end up back with Steve. Steve is not a bad guy in the slightest. He is one of the best guys and characters in the show. But, he and Nancy want different things and I think that's really important to focus on, because it's why they don't work. Steve talks about how he had this fantasy with Nancy as a mother to his children, and that's okay that it's what he wants from a partner, but Nancy doesn't. Remember the argument her and Jonathan had all the way back in season 1 where Jonathan mentions her "rebelling" and then settling down with Steve just like her mother (which Ted and Karen Wheeler should NOT be your romantic goals). It's clear she doesn't want to do that. She literally wants to fight the government and the patriarchy, seen especially in season 2 where she wanted to "burn the Hawkins lab to the ground" and season 3 where she wanted to stick it to her douche bag bosses. Jonathan, I don't think he wants that perfect family either. He seems perfectly fine with helping Nancy do all her illegal shit. He's fine with standing on the side, holding the camera and telling her that she's doing amazing sweety. Of course, if Nancy ends up on her own, that's fine, although I LOVE Jancy especially for the dynamic of it's them against the world. I just don't think Steve and Nancy rekindling their romance is the best idea.

Quick side note, I like the idea of Ronance, but I personally love Jancy and, from the few bits I've seen, Robin and Vickie ( Rovickie? Unsure if the ship name).

Edit: Let me just address some things.

A.) I think Jonathan talking about going to the community college and not wanting Nancy to follow him and resent him wasn't saying he could ONLY see the relationship becoming loveless, he was just saying that the plan they had was not working for both of them. That he had to deviate, but it doesn't mean Nancy should and he was afraid she would and inadvertently ruin what they had. In a round bout way it's a preservation move. Going to a college because your girlfriend or boyfriend is, is never a good thing. Now, yes, Jonathan and Nancy's relationship seems strained. I don't want to say loveless, but strained. But Jonathan has been in California for awhile now so that's bound to happen. I do think there is still love there, it's just difficult to navigate and they're still technically teenagers ( in the show). I'm just saying strained, yes, but loveless, no.

B.) In season 2 Jonathan was very much willing to help her burn the lab to the ground. They knew it was dangerous, but they did it anyway and he supported and helped her. Season 3 while, yes, at first Jonathan did not want to rock the boat at first, it was because he needed that job. Think about where he comes from vs. where Nancy comes from. Really in that argument, I see both sides. Sexism bad but also he needs a job for his family. Anyway, he came around in the end, from what I remember, which again is difficult with the money decision. Again sexism is bad but he never dismissed that the bosses were douches, just that they needed to put up with it. Something I'm very sure he changed his mind about.

C.) When I say that Nancy doesn't want that, I mean that Nancy doesn't want to be like the perfect mom Steve's fantasy has her to be. I never meant no family, just no perfect family. That if they did have a family they would teach their children to make waves because " Nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world."

D.) as for Steve wanting Nancy in his future and that's all that matters, yeah I may have misread that maybe, but the perfect mom scenario he painted just wasn't something I agree with. But, hey, that's just me.