#ahem- youre also allowed to do whatever you want and if off the string makes you happy then go ahead and set the bugs loose! :D

[xenomorphicdna]

All of these. Best takes on iterators right here, I live by these and want them on my grave.

rb and put in the tags a fandom wide accepted hc you personally disagree with

[dirtychocolatechai]

meet-cute | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.

This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖

Taglist is open

(gif from google)

There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.

That wasn’t too concerning at first...

But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy. 

Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.

The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you. 

His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries. 

How much longer-

“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”

The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable. 

She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.” 

The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.

Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately. 

He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...” 

Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.

A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.

He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.

“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?” 

Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”

It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.” 

Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.

“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.” 

“No, no, I know...” 

“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.” 

And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found. 

“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”

He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing. 

She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.

But not her, she cares.

Deeply.

He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.

Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.

“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.” 

Shit, she smells so good...

 “Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”

Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?

Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face. 

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?” 

“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.

The irony isn’t lost on him either.

How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.

The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”

The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.

“Can I have your number?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.

Great, I just hit on my vet.

No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.

When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.

But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills. 

Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.

Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch. 

Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).

The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it. 

“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.” 

Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”. 

[regrettablewritings]

Preference: What Strange Being Are They? II

Characters: Victor Stone, Harley Quinn, Erik the Phantom, Nevada Ramirez, **Surprise Character**

Victor Stone - Simulacrum

The proper term, as he saw it, was simulacrum: An image or representation of someone or something. That was the more proper term. But in Victor’s mind, ordealed and pulled every which way but up, it meant something just as contorted as his form had become: An imitation of something else that may or may not have ever even existed. A collection of broken pieces, cobbled together to look like something familiar, all the while lacking in its qualities enough to make it abundantly clear that no, this was no longer what someone knew. Or maybe they never knew him to begin with.

In layman’s terms, Frankenstein’s monster.

Then again, he supposed the term “cyborg” was not entirely incorrect. There were, after all, traces of his organic self still present, albeit restricted to the face. But there was almost a sense of struggle in that title to him. A sense of denial. Simulacrum might have hurt, but at least, to him, it was honest.

But Silas Stone preferred to call him his son. And Victor called that ignorantly optimistic. After all: What sort of father drags his son back from the cusp of a peaceful passing, utilizing otherworldly means to reassemble him nerve by metallic nerve until he no longer resembled the boy he remembered himself being? A father too driven, Victor decided. One whose own dreams and memories had become a simulacra in and of themselves: They became so distorted, that they no longer resembled reason or reality.

And as far as Victor was concerned, he’d paid the price.

He kept to himself, reserving night time as the only time he could wander the streets of Gotham to himself — but just barely. There was only so much hiding a flimsy hoodie from his time at Gotham U could provide. But still: Technically speaking, he was safe. Monstrous, perhaps, but safe. Safe from wandering eyes, safe from judgement over what he’d lost and since become, safe from . . . Well, life. He was perfectly content living a simulation of life, in fact.

But what he wasn’t prepared or safe from was that fateful night he met you, unafraid and completely real. Well, if anything, you were real curious . . .

Harley Quinn - Succubus

Nobody talks about what happens when you starve a succubus. Mainly because the belief is that the only way to starve a succubus is to deny her, ahem, intimacy. And while this certainly wasn’t an untruth in most cases, the case that was Harley Quinn was a rather . . . unconventional one. Well, as unconventional as anything concerning a succubus could be.

For one, she had adapted her needs to better suit her environment. She had to: If she relied solely on just physical intimacy alone, she would have died long, long ago. After all, The One That Shan’t Be Named seemed to make it a point of starving her of all the resources she could possibly siphon energy from. Eventually, it came to a point where she simply had to learn how to consume energy from other means: Attention; the glances of lustful men and women; affections. Little, teeny, tiny sources that paled in comparison to the full-course meal she might’ve gotten before. But it was better than starving, and she needed to get by in this world however she could.

Not only because she quite liked some bits and pieces of this side of the veil, but also because in the end, she simply wasn’t as powerful as she once was. She still carried some of her paranormal traits with her (minor dream-walking, enhanced agility, etc), but it definitely wasn’t enough to drag her back to whence she came. Not that she wanted to.

She’d become rather fond of the den of sin that was Gotham City. And, to her own surprise, she had become rather fond of you, the poor newbie that foolishly agreed to her Craigslist ad for a new roommate. But then again, she was far more than old enough to know better; why be shocked? After all, you were so, so warm when compared to every other person she’d endured in such close proximity in the past. Much sweeter, much more . . . Deliciously innocent . . .

Erik the Phantom - Fossegrim

Fossegrims are, at least when compared to most other water spirits, rather on the benevolent side. They weren’t like sirens, using their musical gifts to lure people in to a watery grave -- at least, not normally. It was that they much preferred to enchant without malicious intent, plucking at their harp strings or sliding bows across their fiddles to produce ensorcelling sounds of the wind in the forest, the chorus of rushing water resonating in every note. It was just simply not in their nature to be especially malevolent.

At their worst, they were very particular: Even at their most agreeable, there was always a caveat of sorts.

If a fossegrim were to agree to live with a human partner, for example, he needed to have free and regular contact with a water source, lest he grow dire. And if a fossegrim were to offer his tutelage for the fiddle to someone, they would need to participate in a very particular ritual that included stolen mutton, a white he-goat, and a lot of Thursdays.

(And even if one were to succeed at this, they would be faced with a most . . . unorthodox means of being “trained”. Once again, nothing done in malice, but surely there had to be a cleaner way.)

Erik personally did not stick as strictly to these circumstances as others of his kind might -- really, he saw little point in it. After all: Who would come wandering in a watery cavern, and searching for a fossegrim’s teachings, no less! No, he had grown used to his solitude, if bitterly so. He told himself that he was more than happy to live out his naturally long life, secluded, playing beautiful pieces that would remain suffocated beneath whatever structure had gone up above his cove. He almost dared to think it a pity . . . Until one day, a visitor arrived.

And you came bearing a gift: Not a he-goat, nor stolen mutton. You hadn’t come bearing meat of any kind at all! All you carried with you as you clumsily paddled your small boat was a ring: An heirloom, old and dingy, but precious nonetheless. It was all you could offer him that equated to your desire to learn by his hand.

It perplexed the fossegrim. But it also filled him with something . . . warm. Bright, even. Pride. After all, who was he to disappoint such a humble, obedient student. . .?

Nevada Ramirez - Vampire

Vampires: Creatures of fear and woe. They lurked in the shadows, the particulars of their lore transforming about as much as they themselves could. Feeding off the fears of the common folk, draining their energy while all the while enticing their prey closer and closer still.

The transformation fit Nevada like a glove.

And, like a fashionable, leather glove befitting as his aesthetic, he wore it all with style. And perhaps a bit too much glee. Vampires, as it turned out, weren’t just day-dwelling bloodsuckers after all: The great thing about living in a city so varied as New York was that it allowed for evolution and strange mixes to occur. Nevada lucked out: He’d been vampirically sired by a strain that could eat human food, go out in daylight, weren’t effected by crucifixes, and didn’t require an invitation to enter a goddamn building.

The catches, unfortunately, were as followed: Food no longer tasted as vibrant; he could go about his day but with powers limited so drastically that he may as well have been another lowly-ass mortal; bullets were still a big no-no (unless he was the one shooting ‘em); and whether he liked it or not, he still required blood to properly get by. And as disappointed by the food situation as he was, he considered that of the blood a proportionate gain: Blood, Nevada found out, was far more varied when spiced with hormones.

His club made for a perfect den, a place where prey of all sorts could walk in, gyrate themselves into a frenzy, then come crawling over to him (the most minimum of efforts on the part of his pheromones) and offer to him their bodies without even knowing the true nature of what he wanted of them. And for a while, it worked like a charm.

Until Nevada realized he’d never quite had a taste of you, yet. You, with your wide and innocent eyes, cheeks burning whenever you saw him staring at you from the VIP section.

Sure, excitement from arousal was tasty. But the undead gang leader couldn’t help but wonder what the taste of excitement from nervousness tasted like . . .

Lucifer Morningstar - Human

They are without particularly long lives. They are born helpless and remain so much longer than most creatures on Earth do. And yet, it is amazing and strange how much humans can pack into their lives.

Take, for example, one Lucifer Morningstar: He’d changed his name from [Redacted] to better suit the image he wanted, which was that of a walking spectacle. And if his name weren’t enough, everything else he did surely was: The wealth he accrued through mysterious means; the successful nightclub on the LA strip that he owned; an immortal bed life; and a tapestry of connections he’d made by pulling favors. All topped with a devilishly handsome face to boot!

If Lucifer ever had a goal, it was to live it up and/or go to Hell in a hand basket trying.

Which was probably why he wasn’t one to shy away from hosting a little large get-together at Lux for Halloween. And by get-together, Lucifer clarified on social media: They would, in fact, be holding a seance and summoning. After all, what sexier way to embrace the taboo of darkness than to play around with the veil as though it were part of a dress-up game? It was too good an opportunity to miss out on, as any good attention-whore businessperson would tell you.

Unfortunately, for as lucky as Lucifer tended to be, he still bore upon his shoulders multiple flaws. Human flaws. Such as the flaw of not exactly doing research and providing a thorough vetting process when it came to hiring the “performer” who would be commencing the seance and summoning.

This was LA, after all: He probably could just pluck any rando off the street and get a good show out of it. He wasn’t even sure where he pulled this rando from (chances were, he was buzzed and/or high while doing so), but he couldn’t argue with the results of a crowd bewildered by the surprisingly realistic smoke effects and lights flickering. Though he had to admit: They could’ve put you in better demonic makeup for when the lights settled and you stood there, having suddenly “appeared” in the previously-drawn pentagram.

Still, you were cute enough: He supposed if he played his cards right, flirted with you in the usual Lucifer way, then perhaps his Halloween night might be filled with many tricks and treats yet! So he found himself perplexed when you continued to act confused and thrown off, even after the “performer” had finished their routine and left.

Wait, weren’t you supposed to be with them? How did you even get in here? Why do you keep asking how you got here, or if you got stuck in another person’s Hell, or -- . . . Oh. Oh, shit.

As a human, Lucifer was intent on filling his life to the brim with as much story and experiences as possible. But sometimes, there are just some things humans -- even ones like Lucifer -- shouldn’t dabble with . . .

[oftenderweapons]

The Power Couple - hyung line

Pairing: hyung line member x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k words circa, each

Genre: romance scenarios/imagine

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello, my darlings, sorry I didn’t post last week but exam season is insane and I’m seriously struggling :(

Anyways, I’ve been working on these and I hope I’ll be able to write and post the maknae line during the next week. 

Did you enjoy Bang Bang Con The Live? I watched it with my ARMY squad and since we were still craving BTS material afterwards we did a 5th muster rewatch, YAY!

Okay, now TRIGGER WARNINGS: not much this week really, just mild allusions to smut, (a bit more descriptive in Yoongi’s piece), there are some more explicit thingies (ahem, collar, leash, generic mention on toys, stress relieving quickie) and milder but possibly sexy thingies (slightly revealing outfits), mild angst in Joon’s piece (namely minor harassment, nothing descriptive). Watch out for: one tense, insecure and lowkey (highkey) kinky Joon, one very soft Jin, one very tired, very whipped Min Suga and the usual energy fluff ball Hobi (also kinky, though)

I love you all, please stay safe <3

Here you can find the maknae line

And here you can find my masterlist

Namjoon

“You know we don’t have to do this.”

You offered him the string. “What if I want them all to know.”

"_____, I love you and I repeat, I will only do this if it's what you want. You have to give this to me. I won't take it from you. I seriously don't want to force this on you." He fixed his tie, loosening it a little. He was nervous. The car was slowly arriving to the venue. A couple more minutes and you would be out, photographers screaming for your attention, celebrities surrounding you, women envying you, men wanting you. It wasn't the first time you attended a red carpet as Namjoon's plus one, but the previous attempt had peaked with a cocky rapper putting his eyes on you, flirting inappropriately while Joon was busy and making you deeply uncomfortable. As a consequence, Joon had kept you close for the rest of the night and had to give up on having you beside him for a couple events after that, since you didn't feel safe enough to attend.

However, this afternoon he had come to your room with a hefty velvet box, looking at you with complete rapture in his eyes.

“You look like a dream come true.”

“I hope it’s a good dream,” you replied, waiting for the stylist to finish fixing your hair in a classy bun.

“A very good one.”

You were wearing matching suits. Regular, black silk suits, tailored exactly the same, the only difference was the fact that you weren’t wearing any shirt underneath your jacket.

“Thank you.”

“I have something for you.” He came closer, the stylist done with your hair, bowing kindly as you made a small bow to her in reply, thanking her for her work.

“I thought we said no jewellery.”

“Well, technically…” He opened the box, showing you a collar of diamonds. “You don’t have to.” He said sheepishly. “Wear it, I mean. And I don’t want people to think that I consider you an animal that needs to be collared, or a possession. I saw it and I thought you would love it.”

“Yes. I love it.” You touched it gently with your fingertip. “I’ll wear it.”

He smiled so brightly that you knew all the negative comments would never cast a shadow on the overwhelming joy he was showing in this moment: you would do unspeakable things to make him smile at you like that.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yes, sir.” It was half a tease, half an admission of his dominance over you. In the secret language you had created together this meant that you trust him and that you allow him to take complete control over you, that he is entitled to do whatever he wants with you. It was also a way to reassure yourself that he would protect you tonight, that he wouldn’t leave your side and that he would take care of you. That no man would ever lay his eyes and hands on you tonight.

He clasped it easily around your neck, the measure just right, and you suspected he knew because of the way he uses his hands on your neck, randomly, sometimes to soothe you and support you, some others to arouse you and gain his own pleasure.

The tension on your shoulders eased a little as you saw your reflection in the mirror. There was no doubt you belonged to him, that you were his. Still, some anxiety snaked in your belly.

“I don’t really wanna push my luck,” he said, looking down, breaking eye contact, “but I had a small thing made to match the… necklace.”

You looked at him curiously. “Can I see?”

“I know you won’t judge me but I feel very vulnerable about this and I thought we should talk it out before you…”

“I love you.” You whispered, calming his gibbering. “Show me.”

He lifted the board where the necklace laid, showing another compartment of the box were a snaky string laid, all coiled up. You took it and unwrapped it.

A leash.

He looked at you. “You don’t have to say yes, we can use it another time, or not use it at all.”

It means guidance, belonging, discipline. All things you needed tonight.

“Yes.” You told him, confidence sparking in your eyes.

That night, when you walked down the red carpet you felt nothing but the cold sensation of the metal around your neck, and the scorching pride in Namjoon’s eyes.

Journalists asked questions, people took pictures, but the only thing that mattered was what you felt: you were Namjoon’s equal, with your identical suits, and at the same time you were his beloved pet, someone he would cherish, guide, defend and protect.

Seokjin

“Ready?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiled a tight lipped smile and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“God, they won’t take their eyes off of you.”

Tonight you were supposed to attend a film premiere of one of Jin’s friends. It got you slightly uncomfortable, since it was your first official event with him as a couple. Of course ARMY had already seen you a few times since the official announcement of your relationship, once at the airport, as you came back from a quick getaway you and Jin had taken, then then in a bunch of pictures, and then during a vlive, when you had taken a small visit to say hi and introduce yourself, letting Jin lead you through the whole event and giving you the cue when he thought he needed some alone time with his fans. He had been very tactful in the whole revealing, hiding you enough to protect you from harmful stalkers, but also introducing you to ARMY like a single dad would present his girlfriend to his child.  

“Is the dress inappropriate?”

“No. You’re stunning. I love it.” He pressed his nose to your temple. “I’m just worried.”

You leaned softly into him.

“There’s so much skin here...” He let one finger slide down the curve of your neck. “Everyone will be looking.” He kissed behind your ear. “You could wear a rubbish bag and they would still be looking.” He wished he had more skin to touch, but he was also grateful your body was pretty much covered up, the delicate green dress exposing nothing but your collarbones, with long chiffon sleeves, the corset decorated with a leaf embroidery, stopping just above your waist and then flowing down in lush emerald waves.

“I’m glad I wore my white suit.” He commented,

“You look incredible, love.” You complimented him.

“I needed to show them I deserve you.”

You laughed. “I’m the one who needs to one-up her game to match you.”

The back of the limo was quiet as you created that special space of communion and comfort you naturally slip in when you’re both silent.

“You’ll be by my side all night, right?” You murmured, worried. “There’s a lot of people and I feel like such an outsider...”

“Right beside you.” He comforted you. “So they can’t snatch you from me.”

You both giggled, his voice betraying his anxiety. “It will take a major calamity to get me away from you.”

“Like a very big magnet.” You frowned. “You know, attraction.” Your frown intensified. “They say I’m magnetic. the only way to beat me would be a really big magnet.”

Your mouth stretched in a tight lipped smile, hoping not to show how much you loved his unusual sense of humour.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him.

“It’s been a long week. I was hoping we could just stay in and chill. Instead we’ll have to go through all of this while I’m tired and tense. I really don’t feel like being among people tonight.” He sighed. “My social energies have reached a new minimum.”

“We can be pretty and silent, hide in the background.” You held his hand and kissed it, careful not to smear lipstick on it.

“I doubt they’ll let us. It’s your first public presence.”

“They’ve seen me on your vlives, on pictures.”

“They’ll want to see you live, up close, see how you interact.” He twisted his wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Then let them watch. We’ll casually brush them off. ARMY know you, and they will get to know me with time, no need to reveal our whole life to journalists. Plus, it’s not like we’re the main event of the night.”

“As if, darling. They’ve been waiting for this for so long they’ll be like vultures. I wish I could protect you.”

“It’s good, love. We’ll have each other’s back. We just need a secret code to say when to run and hide in the closest broom closet.”

He laughed. “Usually Namjoon is so good, you know, he’s an extrovert, he takes care of all the press and journalists so well.”

“It must be reassuring.”

“He does all the talking, J-Hope drowns them in pretty smiles and positive energy, and Jimin gets flirty and cute, and that’s all it takes. I can stand on the side, jump in when I’m more comfortable. They ease the anxiety a lot.”

“I’ll learn from them. I’ll have them teach me so I can help you," You stated reassuringly.

“Just hold my hand.”

You reached the venue and exited the limo, suddenly immersed in the flashing lights of cameras, Jin extending his hand to you, helping you out of the car. He kept his palm against yours, “I got you.” He whispered in your ear, then smiling brightly at you and inviting you to walk forward, indicating you the red carpet with his free arm, bowing slightly with perfect manners. He charmed you all over in that second.

“Follow the stewards’ lead. They’ll tell you when to stop, when to walk, where to look.” You started strolling comfortably, close to each other. “If you wanna run, just squeeze my hand three times and I’ll carry you to the closest broom closet.”

You smiled at each other. The sounds of camera shutters multiplied infinitely. Not that you really noticed. You were too caught up in your man’s smile. As you promised, you grabbed his hand and never let go.

Yoongi

“How did it go?”

“The interview?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna hate it.” He plopped on the sofa.

“Was it that bad?”

“They kept asking questions about you.”

“Like?”

“Saying my new music really reflected how you brightened my life or something.”

You laughed and sat beside him, passing him a cold beer, your own drink in hand. “They really love the whole ‘love redeems you’ anthem. They can’t stand the idea of self growth and acceptance.”

“It kinda looks like the beauty saving the beast, because of AgustD being a bad boy who met love and found the right path.”

“So dumb.” You clinked your bottles. “Still, congrats for finally finishing AgustD promotion.”

“Yeah, but this means that next week I’ll be in Los Angeles. I need to meet a singer for a collab.”

You huffed. Being his girlfriend is not easy. It’s a matter of carefully planning your schedules, continuously living with two different clocks on your phones set in different time zones, sometimes even wearing two watches at the same time, one at your wrist, the other a nice pocket watch that he had gifted you for your first anniversary, so that you could always “have his time”, as he said.

“Well, then we’ll have to make the best of this weekend.” You nudged him with your elbow. He smiled at you knowingly then took a sip. He zapped through some tv programmes, finally settling on the news. Right in that moment a small clip of the two of you came up, something about his album sales or the fact that he donated a percentage to a school that you had visited together a while ago for a project.

“God, you look amazing, babe.” He licked his lips and stared at you smiling wide at the cameras. They went on discussing your relationship, which to the public was quite new, even though the announcement had come shortly after your two year anniversary, that is about a couple months ago.

“That’s cause you make me look radiant.” You took a sip yourself.

“Really, look at that!” They showed a short footage of your first public appearance, at his side during a music award. “Beautiful.”

You smiled mischievously, brushing his knee.

“You remember that night?” He said. That’s exactly what you were expecting.

“Of course. How could I forget it? You left one-month-long reminders.” You remembered how you had to postpone your regular medical checkups because of the bruises he had left around.

“You were so good.” He praised, his eyes half glazed over, caught in a memory.

You felt emboldened. “I wish we did it more often.” You turned towards him.

“Look how pretty.” He ignored your cue, and it was quite probably intentional. “Showing all those tits to the world.” He gulped a mouthful of beer and clicked his tongue. “The interviewer’s eyes kept going downwards.”

Your dress was not improper at all. It covered everything that needed to stay private, the long sleeved, high neck bodice had just a central stripe of mesh fabric, starting at your collar and hitting a few inches above your belly button, which let the crevice of your breasts be vaguely outlined, just vaguely, and Yoongi had risked losing his manners and self control over it. Photographers had loved your overall vibe, looking adorably ethereal, your hair braided in a crown, your flowy gown matching Yoongi’s lace shirt.

But of course your bodice caused a fuss the day after in the news. Not that you really cared. Yoongi had loved it, clasping your hand like crazy anytime a man came close, but at the same time parading you in front of the cameras, moving you around like a delicate nymph -- which he would undoubtedly claim as soon as the night was over. He swam in the calm and femininity you radiated, your energy matching his. All it would take was a twist of a wrist, a tap of a finger and he would be directing you in posing, your bodies moving simultaneously, as if you were nothing but a puppeteer and his toy, him pulling at your strings.

The whole experience awakened a connection so profound and intuitive, instinctual, that as you reached your hotel room together you still felt those magnets pushing and pulling you to each other, turning your lovemaking into some complicated dance, then into wild, rowdy fucking where no words were needed, your moans and groans saying exactly where to kiss, bite, hit, grope and fondle.

“Are you thinking about it too?” He asked.

“I miss it so much.” You whispered.

“Do you want to?” He kissed your temple. “Need me to?” He used his spare hand to massage your scalp.

Still, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re tired.” You leaned into his hand and nuzzled into him.

“It’s been three weeks. Usually you can’t go three days without it.” He kissed you again, delivering eskimo kisses on your cheekbone. The tenderness of it was slowly gnawing at your insides.

“But you’re tired.” You whined. “Let’s just chill.” You grabbed his empty bottle and cuddled beside him. A few minutes later he was deep asleep, his head propped against the sofa and his mouth open. You covered him with a blanket and held him tighter.

Hoseok

“Oh, sweetie! Oh, love! Oh, my god! My girl, so good!” Hoseok cheered you on as you descended the stairs, careful not to stumble on your dress.

“Thank you, Hobi.” You touched your hair, falling in soft waves on one side of your face.

“Seriously, ____, you look so fucking good, baby.” He took your hand to spin you around for him, examining you carefully.

“Oh god.”

“I can change if you need me to, there’s an alternative upstairs and I have time, I can-”

“No baby, it’s… wow.” He eyed again the slit on your gown, starting mid-thigh and exposing the side of your left leg cheekily. His eyelashes batted like crazy, his hands already reaching for your bum, cupping it through the tight, sparkly fabric. The dress had a siren gown, and since it was quite daring you had the stylist prepare an alternative, since Hoseok couldn’t see you in it and you weren’t sure of his opinion. It’s not like you needed his approval, or that he wouldn’t let you wear it, but you weren’t completely sure of it, and you needed him boosting your ego a little. One single sign of unsurety and you would dash to the bedroom to change. But his beaming smile and the way his eyes were glued to your skin made you understand he would be lowkey upset by your change of outfit.

He looked unreal. His baby blue suit was highlighted by silver details, matching the sober sparkles of your grey dress. He looked you in the face, hesitating one second before pressing a blazing kiss on your lips. It was scorching, resembling the usual bolt of energy between the two of you.

“I need more.” He whispered against your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

“You know we’re gonna fuck it up.”

“I feel like fucking you up.” He murmured, a little disappointed that you were resisting him. You could feel his arousal against your hip.

You simply laughed. “They’re gonna pick us up in less than half an hour. We don’t have all that time.”

“We can take way less than that, you know it.”

Quickies with him were… perfect. Hot, messy, reckless. Merciless. His pace could be devilish, ruthless. Still-- “We’re gonna be sweaty and sleepy afterwards.” You grabbed the hair on his nape gently, holding him away from your face.

“So?” His hands, once on your hips, now were on the small of your back and slipping lower.

“I don’t want them to see you all freshly fucked out.” You murmured with a pout.

“Oh, are you jealous or are you worried they’re gonna see you all freshly fucked out?” He asked, nagging you, squeezing your ass.

“I just don’t want you to.” You replied, pout intensifying to the point it dimpled.

“Baby is jealous.” He teased you, his voice doing that cute ups and downs it does when he’s being deliberately cute and bratty. “You don’t want them seeing how good you are to daddy?”

That word. He was playing it dirty, pushing all your buttons: possessiveness, praise and your daddy kink. “Hobi, I swear to God, if you don't’ stop now you’re not getting any later. And I’ve spent the afternoon charging all the toys.” You warned him. And you were pretty sure you would stay true to your warning. Not 100% sure, but sure enough.

“Can I at least see what you’re wearing underneath?” He squeezed your bum once more, as if checking for the signs of undies.

“What makes you think I’m wearing something underneath this? After all it’s so damn tight.”

“Sweetie… Do you really need to tease me like this! Such a bad girl!” He laughed and at the same time he fixed his pants. Your dress wasn’t the only tight indument at the moment.

You headed for the living room, grabbing your shoes in the process, giving him a glance that invited him to follow you.

“You’re wearing those sandals, aren’t you?” He stared at the box, a pair of stilettos emerging from it, their sparkly strings catching his attention.

“Let me.” He motioned, helping you wear and latch them onto your feet.

“You truly are a vision, ____.” He was kneeling before you, looking at you wide eyed, his sweet smile edged with admiration and pride.

“You sure you don’t want to get rid of some tension before we head there?” He caressed your knee with apprehension. His personal pleasure would just be a minor advantage, what he really wanted was to help you with your nerves, since a couple days before you mentioned how worried you were about attending to such a big event.

“I don’t think I could even possibly enjoy it right now.” You put your hand atop his. “But ask me later, and with the adrenaline of the night and the relaxation of being done with it, I might be very interested.” You smiled, faking coyness.

In that moment his phone rang, probably the driver.

“Then let’s pick up from here later.” He let his hand trail along the naked back of your calf, kissing your hand and helping you up.

You couldn’t wait for the event to end. And for your night to truly begin.

[havenoffandoms]

Geralt x Female!Reader - Jealousy

This is my first attempt at a Witcher fic, more specifically the first attempt at writing Geralt. Hope you guys enjoy it! I haven’t written reader inserts in a while, so sorry if it seems a bit rusty. 

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: swearing, hunting (just in case someone doesn’t like that kind of topic), female!reader insert

Fandom: The Witcher (TV Series)

“… so in many ways, a bard also goes on hundreds of adventures. Only they’re less messy, and definitely safer!” Jaskier argued, causing you to huff in indignation as you tried to hide the amused smile that was tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“Is that so? And on what marvellous adventures have you been, Sir Jaskier?”

“I am glad you asked, Lady Y/N,” Jaskier stood up and went to grab his lute, which he used to improvise a new song to impress you, “In a faraway land, many years ago, I was walking on beaches of sand, and dark caves below…” 

You leaned back against a tall tree, watching the bard’s performance with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed before your chest. You knew that Jaskier wanted more than just your friendship, but you never had the heart to tell him that your heart belonged to someone else. You knew it would break Jaskier’s heart to know that Geralt had claimed you as his, especially when the bard felt like he would never be a match for the witcher. 

“Then one night as I ventured through the forest, in the dark and the cold, I prayed to the gods of old, and made my way on the path obscurest…”

“The path obscurest? Not your best work, Jaskier,” you told him, laughing slightly at his mock crestfallen expression. Despite your comment, the bard did not give up his spontaneous serenading. 

“I’m a bit rusty, but you haven’t heard my chorus yet… ahem… Toss a coin to your Jaskier, o’ valley of plenty, o’ valley of plenty. Toss a coin to your Jaskier, and maybe add a kiss in there, too.”

“Not in your wildest dreams,” you told him, throwing a stick at him which he managed to dodge. If your words hurt Jaskier, he did a good job at hiding his emotions. “Not to mention that you completely fucked up your rhyme game…”

Just as Jaskier opened his mouth to defend himself, the two of you heard a sound coming from the woods. The snapping of twigs and the sound of crunching leaves had you both on high alert. You instinctively grabbed for your two daggers, ready to defend yourself against your attacker. The gods knew that Jaskier would not be very helpful in case of an attack. When Geralt came into view, you instantly relaxed while Jaskier let out a relieved sigh. 

“Geralt, you could’ve announced yourself,” Jaskier chastised the witcher, but you instantly noticed that something about Geralt was off. He had an unreadable expression on his face and acted even more distant than usual. 

“Sorry for interrupting your poor attempts at serenading Y/N, but don’t worry I was just about to go hunt our dinner,” Geralt announced, his voice cold and shut off. Your frown intensified when you realised that he was avoiding your gaze.

  “I’ll come with you,” you announced more than asked, only earning yourself a dismissive grunt from the witcher, “Jaskier, how about you start a fire while we’re hunting?”

Jaskier looked ready to argue, however his protests died on his lips when he met your glare. Geralt seemed unaware of the exchange, and after feeding Roach an apple out of his bag, he disappeared into the woods again without waiting for you. You grabbed your bow and quiver and almost ran after him, leaving a disgruntled Jaskier behind. 

“What was that all about?” you asked him when you had caught up with Geralt. He ignored you, which only confused you more. “Was it something I said?”

“Quiet, you’ll scare away the prey.”

Geralt’s tone was sharp, which took you by surprise. You decided to remain silent as you scanned the area for prey. It did not take long for you both to stumble upon a lone deer who had stopped to drink out of a spring of fresh water. You stopped dead in your tracks and crouched behind a tree as you nocked your arrow as quietly as you could. You noticed how Geralt had taken cover behind a tree as well, and was now watching you. Even though you felt his gaze on you, you made a point to ignore him. The deer suddenly looked up, startled by the nearby rustling of leaves. You and Geralt both held your breaths as you tried not to scare your dinner away. When the deer finally let down his guard, you pulled the string of your bow all the way back and took three composing breaths before letting go. You and Geralt both watched as your arrow wheezed through the air and hit the deer right in line with its left leg, about halfway up its body. 

Geralt still refused to speak to you as he got up and went to inspect the deer. He slit the dying animal’s throat with his sword to give it a quick death before lifting its dead body onto his shoulder and walking back towards the camp. You grew more and more suspicious of his behaviour, and you started to feel irritated by his silence. You had done nothing wrong, so why would he give you the silent treatment? 

“Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked him as you jogged to catch up with him again. 

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me! If I’ve done something wrong, at least have the balls to tell me to my face!”

Geralt unexpectedly came to a halt and dropped the dead deer to the ground. His actions were so sudden that you collided with him hard, letting out a pained groan as you brought your hand to your nose. Despite his grumpiness, your lover still cupped your face and forced you to look at him to make sure that you were not hurt too badly. The thought warmed your heart, but you knew that Geralt still had not forgiven you for whatever it was he reproached you. 

“I’m fine,” you snapped as you reluctantly pulled away from his grip, “you need to get your head out of your arse, witcher! I haven’t done anything wrong-“

“Haven’t done anything wrong?” his deep voice echoed you, disbelief lacing his tone, “why don’t you ask Jaskier, maybe he’ll enlighten you.”

“Come again?” It took you several seconds to understand what Geralt was getting at, “Is this what this is all about? You’re jealous of Jaskier?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, of course I’m the ridiculous one here…”

Geralt stared at you, his nostrils flaring as he tried to contain his anger. You easily held his glare, unwilling to back down and lose the argument. Geralt was the first one to look away, sighing heavily as he heaved a resigned ‘fuck’ under his breath. He raked his fingers through his greasy hair before turning around to face you again. His other hand came to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer so he could rest his forehead against yours. His voice was hoarse as he whispered his next words into your ear: 

“I hate the way he looks at you. You’re mine.”

“If you want him to stop looking at me that way, maybe we could stop hiding our relationship like it’s a crime!”

Before Geralt could reply, you pulled yourself away from him and headed back to the camp, not heeding him as he called out your name. 

OoO

“Hey Y/N, where’s dinner?” Jaskier asked as soon as he spotted you through the trees, but you were in no mood to entertain him. 

“Fuck off, Jaskier!” you snapped before retreating inside your tent. You were glad that you had set up your shelter for the night early, for you did not feel like dealing with Jaskier’s shit. Or Geralt’s, for that matter. As soon as you were out of sight, you let the tears of frustration run down your cheeks. You angrily wiped them, hating how weak you felt when you let your emotions get the better of you.

“Geralt, what happened out there? Y/N seems pissed…”

“Y/N?” Geralt called your name, ignoring Jaskier’s question. You refused to acknowledge him, but Geralt was stubborn. “Y/N, please…”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you…”

“Jaskier, do us all a favour and shut the fuck up” Geralt snapped at the bard, which was what made you come out of your tent. 

“Leave him alone, he’s done nothing wrong!” You coming to Jaskier’s defence was what pushed Geralt over the edge. Without a word, he took several long strides towards you and grabbed your wrist in his large hand, pulling you close to his chest and crashing his lips onto yours in a hungry and possessive kiss. Your eyes widened comically at the public display of affection, but your arms instinctively wrapped your arms around Geralt’s neck for support. The proximity of his warm body, and the feeling of his taunt muscles under the layer of clothing he wore drove you crazy, and despite the anger you felt, you found yourself melting into his embrace. You were about to deepen the kiss when you both heard Jaskier clear his throat loudly. You felt slightly guilty when you broke away from Geralt, but the way the witcher held you close to his body as he acknowledged Jaskier made you feel giddy inside.

  “So, how long have you guys been a thing?” the bard asked, not allowing his voice to betray how hurt he was, but you knew better. You gave him an apologetic look, and even Geralt looked slightly contrite. 

“A while,” you finally admitted, sensing the way Geralt’s hold tightened around you possessively, “I’m sorry for keeping you out of the loop, Jaskier.”

“Just…” Jaskier took a deep breath and managed a forgiving smile, “Just don’t hurt her Geralt, okay? If you do, I’ll… I’ll hurt you back… somehow!”

You were surprised when you heard Geralt chuckle at the comment. 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“And if you guys ever get married, I’ll be singing at your wedding,” Jaskier told them, and it was your time to laugh when you heard Geralt utter another ‘ ah, fuck’ under his breath. 

END

[our-wargame]

We'd Spoil the Party Anyway

Rating: T Pairing: Oda Sakunosuke / Dazai Osamu Tags: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Odasaku is a dad, Dazai is their Next Favorite Person, Also Mutual Feelings, So Eventually. Someone's Gotta Push it Forth Right, Come On Odasaku, There's Not Enough Odazai Fluff Word Count: 1,830 Status: Complete AO3 LINK

Summary:

"Changing your hiding spot is not cheating," Dazai scrunches his nose up. He's learned the tricks of argument from Kousuke and borrowed some sass from Katsumi.

"Changing your hiding spot by climbing out the window and lowering yourself to the ground is not cheating." Sakunosuke says mildly. "Covering your ears and running away, yelling 'lalala I can't hear you' is." 

Alternatively, three times Odasaku, Dazai, and the kids cheat during house games, and a total of zero regrets.

"The game is hide and seek," Katsumi informs them. Crowded across the round little Activities table are not five, but six serious faces...and whatever Sakunosuke has going on his own. He can keep a damn poker face just fine, but he's got no control over his expression right now, not after he's seen Dazai, looking that alert and that ready.

Finding the kids is done within a shared minute. The house is just too small, so really, he's just racing himself, his own record.

"Changing your hiding spot is not cheating," Dazai scrunches his nose up. He's learned the tricks of argument from Kousuke and borrowed some of Katsumi sass.

"Changing your hiding spot by climbing out the window and lowering yourself to the ground is not cheating." Sakunosuke says. "Covering your ears and running away, yelling 'lalala I can't hear you' is." 

"Wasn't grounds to tackling me," Dazai huffs. "Also. The kids voted-"

"Yeah, we voted!"

"-it's five to one," Dazai looks to Shinji, Kousuke, Yuu, and Katsumi, who nod furiously. They need a win against Sakunosuke and borrowing help from someone cool is okay with them. With the kids crowded around him, crowing for him and rehashing his moves, Dazai smirks.

Sakunosuke's lips quirk. He looks down to his side. The tip of Sakura's head normally really only comes up to his naval but she's tilted her head back to look at him with big, supportive eyes....she could have him wrapped around her little finger, if she ever decides she's not happy being an angel.

He picks her up, stores her under his arm, against his side, turns and walks out the room. Dazai squawks- or is it Katsumi? Not that it matters. They're not getting ice cream. Cheaters don't get ice cream.

"Are we getting ice cream?" Sakura asks.

They sure are.

(Dazai gets each of the 'men of the alliance' not one but two cones because they're 'twice' as deserving, and still steals from Sakunosuke's anyways. Sakunosuke doesn't think he could mind less.)

*****

"The game is cops and robbers", Yuu says, standing on one side of the Activities table. He's the conductor of the day. "The robbers," he points out Dazai and Sakunosuke, who are seated on the floor with everyone else for 'fairness'. They're all close together, legs neatly folded in but knees bumping one another all the same. And if you're Sakunosuke, you may also have a bruised tailbone pressing into the hardwood, from three gamenights ago.

"Odasaku and Zai-chan-"

Dazai glares at him the same instance Sakunosuke stifles a smirk. He's still rather proud of telling the kids Dazai secretly really really wanted a nickname. He thinks it's only fair considering it's Dazai who gave them 'Odasaku', them and Kido, the curry shop owner. The nickname, and any embarrassing stories he has of Sakunosuke. There's a reason he has all of them and it's only partially because Sakunosuke seems to lose some of his senses with Dazai around; the rest of it is because Dazai enjoys geting the two of them in messes, all too much.

"-are going to rob the house." Yuu gestures to the room. "The rules are, if we tag them, they get put in jail. They can only get out if one of them jailbreaks the other. If we get them both or the timer runs out, then we win."

They know the rules. They'll even start this one outside the house because there just isn't enough space for this one.

He and Dazai should do a mission, just the two of them. Things are too easy when they're together. 

"That's not fair!" Katsumi howls. "You're cheating, Odasaku!"

"Huh?" he blinks, perfectly neutral. "I followed all of Yuu's rules though."

"You can't reset the timer!" Yuu jabs a finger into the chest. "You know that!!"

"Oh? Dazai, did you know that?"

Dazai probably doesn't know it, but Sakunosuke's learned his left cheek dimples when he's about to crack up.

"No I didn't, Odasaku." Dazai says, looking frankly puzzled, for the kids. "If you think about it, what he did was really risky! Odasaku was probably trying to give you more chances to catch him!"

"No he didn't!" Katsumi shakes his head so hard it might fall off. "Shinji told us to check the timer 'cause he knew it should've gone off, cause we won. If we didn't go and check, you wouldn't have won!"

"I don't understand," Sakunosuke says, trying to mirror Dazai's expression. "How could we have not won because you won, if we won?"

Katsumi dives. Maybe in a few years he'll be able to bring him down but he makes an awfully good effort of pantsing Sakunosuke right now. In the end, it's rather remarkably, Dazai who puts an end to things, the scuffle and the cheating thing. 

A plea bargain is made. Dazai is the only one allowed to cheat in games because his cheating is 'still fun', not 'mean'. In turn, the kids will think about making their bedtime earlier, by exactly five minutes- apparently, one for the each of them.

Well, okay, whatever, they love Dazai as much as he-ahem. As much as they love him. Okay. That's fine.

*****

"The game is war!" Kousuke shouts.

Sakunosuke makes a mental note to start being a better influence when the flashbacks hit. One day, it's the game is war, the next day it's war, baby! thanks to hmm, who was it? It doesn't matter though; Dazai is a factor of the equation he doesn't think he can factor out.

"We're not going to rehash the rules," Kousuke says, probably having waited the entire day to use the word on everyone. "Because Odasaku cheats if we do!"

It was one time and it was funny. "Yeah, yeah," he yawns, standing up to stretch before they get going.

War is like this: Sakunosuke is the enemy. Whoever cries uncle is the loser. That's it.

The kids have come to team up with Dazai because while ambushing Sakunosuke is fun and all, it's not as fun to watch him shake you all off or be dragged along the ground like a duster while you cling on with all your might as he marches away.

Today, the ambush is just fine. He'd even give it a seven out of ten for them giving Kousuke a turn to explode from behind the door, with everyone else careening in after.  (Dazai was instructed to wait outside on the window ledge for his cue, which happens to be Sakura giggling, "Zai-chan, Zai-chan! We got him!" Anyways, he's all too enthusiastic hurtling into the room to help.) "Oh no," Sakunosuke announces, believably. "I've been caught."

But apparently they've forgotten one thing. So they instruct Dazai to "hold him down! right there!" while they dash away to scourge the house for skipping ropes so they can 'string him up' before they try to make him cry for mercy. The yelling fades as the room empties.

Dazai's grin is nothing but gorgeous, and Sakunosuke is nothing but relaxed, pinned underneath him. They're both too content in waiting here. He could watch Dazai all day, and for some reason he hasn't fully understood, Dazai would do the same of him.

Dazai shifts so that straddling Sakunosuke is more comfortable for the most of them, with Sakunosuke adjusting to help. "So," Dazai says, peering down at him with bright eyes. "How's that tailbone doing, Odasaku?"

"Would be better if you weren't sitting on me." He rumbles. "How 'bout you let me go and we call it a draw?"

Dazai hums.

"Thought you were worried about my tailbone and my health."

"That was before I remembered how much I don't like losing. But now that I've thought about it, I've decided I'll let you go if you can tell me what's in it for me." Dazai pokes him in the cheek.

He thinks for a second. "Tell you a secret."

He's immediately won Dazai's interest.

"Tell me first and then I'll let you go."

"Mmm," he pretends to think about it.

"O-da-sa-ku."

"Alright." He exhales. Dazai leans in a little, looking as curious as he does intense. He wants Sakunosuke's secrets, wants his memories and his feelings and his thoughts. He wants to share in them and wants to be in them. He wants all of Odasaku.

Looking straight into his eyes, Sakunosuke says, "I would really. Like to kiss you some day."

The original plan is to buck Dazai off and then to hold him hostage in front of the kids since they don't do abandoning each other. It's immediately dismissed when Dazai's hands find Sakunosuke's wrists. He stills. Dazai's gaze swallows him whole.

"You." Dazai shakes his head. He's caught halfway between exasperation and laughter, but it's the affection in his eyes that does things to Sakunosuke's head. "You," Dazai repeats, leaning in. "are such a silly guy."

This first kiss is soft, is slow, is perfect. He's not...he's not sure he deserves Dazai's reciprocation, but he's going to earn it properly, if Dazai will let him. With his fingers in Dazai's curls, and Dazai's hands cupping his face, he thinks about never moving again. But Dazai pulls back, just a little, only so he can bump their foreheads together.

"Hi," Dazai whispers. 

He responds with "hey", except it gets caught in his throat, comes out a strangled noise. Dazai just grins and ducks his head in to steal another kiss.

There is a shriek.

"What, what!" A clamor of Sakura, Yuu, Shinji, Kousuke yelling as they burst into the room, where Katsumi is facing off with Dazai, who's yanked him up so they stand a few inches apart, shoulders just brushing.

"Oh my god." 

"Katsumi-" tries Dazai.

"NO." Katsumi throws his hands up. "You-you were fraternizing with the enemy!" He turns to the others. "Zai-chan was-"

"Was not!" Dazai scowls. "I was using my special torture technique when you interrupted!" 

"No you weren't, you liar!" Katsumi yells. "You were trying to-"

"Odasaku," Kousuke says, and everyone turns to look at the man. "Was Zai-chan torturing you?"

"Ah." He clears his throat until it finally decides to work. "Yeah. He tricked me. I said mercy. You win."

Half of the kids cheer. Katsumi looks frankly outraged but he lets Shinji high-five him anyways. Sakura runs over and gives Sakunosuke a hug, because she's perfect- oh. He already knows he's going to miss her the most when she grows up and moves out-

"Odasaku," Dazai says, nudging him, like he can tell. He probably can, just like how he notices Dazai debating whether or not this is an appropriate moment to try his given name. "Shouldn't the winners get ice cream?"

"You can buy them some." He's...he's going to sit here and just think about them.

Dazai just smiles and let's the kids follow him out the room. He's gotten too good at leading the way. 

...like hell, Sakunosuke's not going with them.

[murdersexual]

Part III? To that LeoPika fic~?!

🚨WARNING!🚨

-Rated MA.

-Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling and Gun Violence.

-Cussing.

-NOT PROOFREAD.

-I wrote this at 3am and absolutely love this one.

-Edit was done by me... Pic was found on Google somewhere lmao.

-Nicknames: Birthday Koi/Koi Fish/Fishie: Leorio (cause he’s a Pisces) and Smol Ram/Blondie and whatever I used is obviously Kurapika.

✨Ship/Pairing✨

-LeoPika (Leorio x Kurapika)

Part III: All In Or Fold:

Bridge To World Resorts Hotel - 10:34pm:

“Where are you taking me...?”

An annoyed sigh left Kurapika. He knew he was gonna ask that fucking question.

“You’re doing the very thing I told you that agitates me...”

Leorio turns up his lip and rolls his eyes. A heavy sigh leaves him. As they walk across the tubular glass bridge, Leorio takes in the sights of the night skyline. The bright lights were always a sight to look at, besides a bodacious beauty of course.

“Oh good evening, Fine Sir and Madame Fatale~”

Greeted a pair of rich women dressed in mini dresses. They looked high if not drunk. Nonetheless, their killer curves caught Leorio’s eyes and he instantly returned their greeting...

“Good Evening Ladies~ Hope to see you around the casino~”

That suave voice of his was enough to make their lower halves quiver with excitement. While he was too busy watching them, an unimpressed Kurapika stopped in his tracks just to feel Leorio run into him.

“Agh! Seriously?!”

“Unbelievable...”

And with that, he kept walking. Leorio gave him a glare before huffing. His semi exposed chest quickly expanded only to drop. His hands were in his pocket but every time there was a silky greeting from any of the women who bypassed, he’d take out his left hand and wave. His bright 1000-watt smile was enough to charm them every time. Giving a wave only to those who didn’t really assume his gender is the little ram. The closer they were getting to their destination, the more anxiety started to lowkey rise.

‘What to expect? Probably for him to be not surprised but on the inside, he’d be flattered... Then he’d leave... Maybe he’ll be flustered? Or actually surprised and flustered? But... he’d still leave...’

The thought bothered him, his grey orbs gave a casual swish to each of his sides. As unnerving it could be, he realised that the outcome will never change. Once Leorio’s mind is made up, he’ll never go back on his words. To play a game such as Russian Roulette, one needn’t to fear the outcome but only hope for the best...

However, in these circumstances?

The mighty fatal bullet was shot and caught.

Finally, the two made their destination. The jingle of keys chimed in the emptied hallways. Finding a card key and tapping it, the reader gave a soft beep and with a gentle twist? The door came open. Stepping in, the light from the hallways illuminated their backs, their shadows on the ground appeared outstretched. With his left hand feeling the side of the wall, Kurapika finds a circular knob and twists it to where the lights are dimly lit. Taking that jet black blazer off and hanging it up, a soft sigh of relief emits from the little ram. Spotting an ice bucket with a fancy bottle of the finest of Hennessy, he didn’t hesitate to head over to it.

“Huh, bougie... Now what are you showing me?”

Popping the top and sliding a glass over, he takes a few ice cubes and places them in it. Staring at the second one, he hesitantly slides it over and does the same.

“Patience is still a weakness for you, I see.”

Staring intensely at him, he roams over and ‘kindly’ snatches the glass up. Taking some of it down, he leans lightly against the table and once their eyes meet?

“And prolonging the inevitable is still your favourite coping method, I see.”

They never left. It’s moments like these where they were would never stop looking for any weaknesses.

“Since when…?”

Finally the incomplete question comes rolling off the blondie’s tongue.

“...Have you’ve known me to ever do such...?”

Sipping down some of that drink, he could feel how it burns the back of his throat, however, he plays it off rather coolly. Dealing with Leorio and his aggression will always be a hassle—forever plucking at his nerves. What’s the best way not to engage him in combat?

By having a pretty levelled drink of course.

As their eyes finally left one another with Kurapika leaving from the wonderful shot table, Leorio’s never truly left. His eyes saw how calmly unnerved he is and it actually pleased him. Who knew he still could rattle the blondie?

“Well... I mean, since now and we don’t wanna even get into the times that—“

Before the fishie could finish?

He was cut off.

“There were no such times, but nice try though.”

He saw him glancing over his shoulder, the look in his eye showed he was defensive and it just made him smirk. His patience started to dwindle, that pride of the little ram’s wasn’t going to allow him to pluck at his strings.

“Hmph, whatever you say~ I remember everything despite I may not look it~”

He sang, now taking one of the cubes and popping it into his mouth. He gave a singsong like chuckle. The sound of that always gave Kura the wrong type of chills up his spine. He stopped in his bedroom’s doorway, his eyes immediately taking time to adjust to the thick dark. They slowly swished to the right then to the left.

“Hmm...”

While he was momentarily lost in thought, his feet carried him to his destination. A cherrywood gothic styled two door wardrobe with the fresh wooden polish was always a nostalgic reminder... Turning a few lock combinations that’s been cleverly installed, it clicks open and he’s able to pull the handles apart.

“Ah... Here it is...”

Taking up a jet black chest in his arms, he roams back to the main room, just to find the birthday boy, chilling at his desk and turning on music.

“Go ahead and play...”

Leorio’s eyes widened! The song of choice is very mellow, something that’s very contradictory yet relatively random. ‘Love Calls’ by Kem. Many questions went through Leorio’s mind, but now it’s not only him. Instantly pouring another shot, he clears his throat, finding it ever so awkward.

“Okay then... I suppose, ahem... What the fuck is that?!”

It took a moment for the smol ram to adjust to the sight of this tall fucker sitting at his desk like it’s his own. His feet being kicked up, jacket around the chair, shot glass in his hand and of course toying with his damn music station. His eye wanted to twitch but at all costs he’s refrained from showing how slightly triggered he is. After regaining his composure, he shuffles on over and drops the chest on his lap. Now leaning against the right side of the desk, one arm folds under the other.

“Hmm, I don’t know, you tell me.”

Feeling mighty suspicious, the koi fish takes it and undoes the latch, his hazel eyes were rather shocked to see...

A picture just before the whole Yorknew incident.

“Oh no way...”

Their eyes met for a moment with a soft smirk on Kura’s face and a genuinely shocked expression remains on Leorio’s. Setting that picture aside, his hand reaches in and pulls out what appears to be a mood board with blue flowers and aesthetic blue letters with glitter that says ‘Sleep Well’. There are screenshots of a infamous text argument between the two of them.

“Are you kiddin’ me?!?! This is when I threatened to suplex your ass into oblivion.”

Sentiment softened his eyes at such a board, a smile curved its way onto his handsome face.

“Exactly, it’s still such a disappointment you didn’t come and do it too.”

The side eye that was sharply given indicated that he’s here now and won’t hesitate to do it. Kurapika remains unbothered, that smirk on his face now hinting at a bit of mischief.

“There’s another one... Oh hell nah! Is this our conversation as we split before Yorknew?”

It’s another aesthetic text mood board with stickers of airplanes and clouds that has the bedazzled letters for the words ‘Fly High’ and ‘Stay Together’. It’s little things like this that warms the fishie’s heart. He sips his shot casually as his gaze scans through.

“I... am in disbelief... YOU actually made these? With what fucking time?!”

Kura rolls his eyes dismissively.

“The time I managed to find...”

Setting that aside, he finds another mood board, this time with pictures from Yorknew. From how they all met up at the park, had a picnic and the way everyone was so relaxed, even how they all sat at the end of the slide, just like how they slid down together during the hunter exam. There was a surrounding innocence around each of those photos. This one had a flower that matched every personality and the bedazzled letters were also coloured for the word that was used is...

Family.

That one right there was enough to melt the iceberg around Leorio’s heart.

“I... This... Mmmm this is so fuckin’ adorable... For you especially!”

“Hmph, leave your flattery for the last one... I do apologise in advance for its unfinished...”

The confidence that surrounded those words excited the koi fish. He sets that board aside and pulls out one that is most definitely unfinished, it’s black and white themed, with the halfway bedazzled words ‘Man or a Monster’. It’s screenshots of the many missed calls and texts. But there’s a screenshot of a text that was never sent...

‘Whilst this apology may fall upon blind eyes and a closed heart, I’m humbly sorry that I have to ask that you please remain patient with me. There’s so much I’d like to express but specific circumstances will not allow me the time... I promise you that I’m not ignoring you, if anything, your calls and texts are a constant reminder for how blessed I am. I’m not entirely sorry for the path I’ve chosen, but I’m sorry for hurting you.’

After reading that text that has a not delivered icon by it, Leorio found himself slowly looking at the blondie. No words really left him. He stared at him, taking in this so-called horrible best friend of his. Those hazel eyes had lost all sense of anger and were replaced with a gentle twinkle. A soft chuckle emits as he now downs his shot.

“So...”

“You’re about to ask why I never sent it? Well... something told me that had I done it would only further complicate things and so I... didn’t.”

Finally looking out the large windows made of the finest of bulletproof glass, the little bit of a shot he has left is downed. The little ram hated how his answer came out. It gave him way more anxiety than it should’ve.

“You can never look me in the eyes whenever you tell such a harsh truth...”

Putting his glass down and reaching for the bottle that Leorio actually passes over he couldn’t help but wonder what else could lay heavy on his chest.

“Because I don’t like seeing those flashes of pain, I feel ultimately guilty and it’s just haunting.”

In the back of his sharp mind, he had to stop himself from saying...

‘Just like I would hate the way you’d look at me if you saw me in such a state of vulnerability...’

After nearly pouring a full glass, he takes that glass back up and casually sips on it. Those pale grey orbs finally finding Leorio’s again. There was a brief moment of silence and it didn’t help that ‘Take a Message’ by Remy Shand played in the background. It added to the dimmed and heartfelt ambience that’s currently going on right now. With a smirk gracing the koi fish’s face, he raises an eyebrow...

“You? Being sensitive? Having a side that’s softer than the finest of plush? Trust me, I love seeing this but there’s no more priceless feeling of knowing how you truly feel... I mean tch, yeah, still fuck you, but you really pull through when needed.”

Poor Kurapika nearly choked on his drink. His gaze instantly swishing around in a startled motion before turning away to hide his now pinkish tinted cheeks.

“You love seeing it if it’s a way to poke at it... Like you’re doing now.”

He wondered if he’d actually stick around now...

“I mean yeah, but I don’t think I’d stick a goddamn knife and twist it in ya... I ain’t that cruel.”

Although he knew what he meant, the idea of him leaving was taken as a stab and twist. Of course, he’d never come to say it. Leorio reaches and hooks a finger around his belt loop and with the slightest of tugs, a tiny bit of stumbling comes from the little ram. In reflex, his hand grabbed his hand and there was a threatening glare.

“I was just trying to see what you were hiding from me~”

The way those words came rolling off of Leorio’s tongue sounded way too melodic... In the most playfully teasing tone. The rosy cheeked blondie huffed! His mind was a bit frenzied... What the fuck did he really mean by those words? His heart felt like a rabbit’s for it rapidly raged against his chest.

“I’m not hiding any—!”

“You’re ever so flustered! Look at how pink you are! Haha!”

That wavy brown hair mocked his movements as he tossed his head back to laugh. There’s a look of disapproval now forming on Kurapika’s pretty little face. With a soft bite of his bottom lip he uses his nails to scratch his hand.

“OW!”

Now turning his lip up with a low growl, the hazel eyed koi fish slips his hand from him only to use his leg to shove him away before replacing it. A victorious laugh emits as he sees him stumble and nearly drop his glass.

“Can never stand it, can you?! Ahahaha~”

With a slow turn to face him, all he sees is that devilishly handsome smirk on his face as he holds his glass up.

“Seeing you flustered like a high school girl who’s just seen her crush is the most spectacular gift I could ever ask for~ Haha, now I’ll drink to that~”

In that moment, Kurapika froze, his gaze taking in this koi fish that’s dressed in all black. Despite his ignorance, he would never admit that at times Leorio can serve some looks. Those words did fall on partially deaf ears though. What mattered in that moment was how different Leorio seemed. Hell, in a two year span, there are quite a few changes a person can go through. Whether it’s physical, mental, emotional and or spiritual. That’s what the little ram is seeing right now... How far he’s come as a person.

“Look, I know I’m fine and all but you lookin’ kinda sus...!”

It wasn’t until then he snapped out of his mental appreciation for him. With a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that grey gaze had softened.

“Is it a crime to admire how much you’ve grown within the last two years~?”

Swinging his long toned legs off the desk, he casually packs up the jet black chest, totally trying to come up with a witty answer to that obvious rhetorical question. Once he closes it, he nods slowly while calmly getting up from the chair. Holding close to his heart is that chest and he can’t help but turn pink at such a sentimental craft.

“Everything you do is a damn crime nowadays! But I thank you for the gift, it means so much to—!”

“Wait, n-no... The gift was you looking AT it NOT taking it!”

Now frowning at such ridiculousness, the birthday koi steps back like somebody just slapped him! The little ram slowly readied to chase him for it. Kicking his shoes off to reveal those jet black socks.

“What the fuck do you mean?! I do believe I have all right to keep this!”

“No you don’t!”

“I do!”

And the back and forth has begun! Suddenly, it was like that wonderful moment never existed. There’s Kurapika now walking over to snatch that chest only for those quick reflexes of Leorio’s to hold it high in the air. He wasn’t even gonna reach no more... But with the intense and competitive glares they’re giving each other?

Determination grew tenfold.

Reaching for that chest once more is a soft growling Kurapika! He even stood on his toes, much like a balanced ballerina would. Just for the trickster koi to smile victoriously.

“There’s something else that I want for my birthday...”

Raising an eyebrow—being completely suspicious, the blondie slowly drops his arm.

“Humour me....”

Stepping closer to him while still holding that chest protectively, he takes his free hand and covers his eyes.

“Le—!”

Their lips met, both soft and alcohol tinged. The city lights twinkled behind the two, making them appear like silhouettes. Softly nipping the ram’s bottom lip, he suavely says...

“They say stolen kisses are the sweetest and I’m sure yours is the equivalent to Candyland~”

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7? NSFW? Sternclay? Pretty please 🙇‍♀️

7: It’s our one year anniversary fuck how does one celebrate an anniversary of rivalry and one-sided devotion?

Joseph Stern, alias Agent M, has accomplished what no other member of the National Hero Control Task Force has been able to: he has captured a member of the elusive Pine Guard.

The guard has been causing chaos for the better part of two years, bringing important projects such as oil pipeline development, ICE facilities, and start-up construction to catastrophic halts. 

Stern isn’t invested in those projects, but he believes in the greater good, in law and order. 

One member of the guard in particular has caught and held his attention since he first laid eyes on him. Bigfoot, or so he’s called, has eluded most of their security tapes in a way his compatriots haven’t, and has been reported as more than once saving civilians and bystanders from danger.

He also once stayed behind to ensure Stern stayed conscious after sustaining a head injury. Stern has never been able to get an explanation as to why. But after that day, puzzling out Bigfoot’s motives, his past, his personality has become Sterns true goal. 

Convenient, then, that the man is currently strapped, standing up, to a holding table in his base.

“I knew word of those files would get your attention.”  He stands toe to toe with Bigfoot, who growls but says nothing.

“There’s no call for that. Besides, even if you’d managed to infiltrate here without alerting me, there wouldn’t have been anything to steal. All the information on the identity of the pine guard members is up here. I haven’t shared it with my superiors yet.” He taps his head.

“So, you’re bluffing.”

“Not at all. Barclay.” 

Dark brown eyes go wide with concern. 

“Okay, so you got me. That doesn’t mean you got the rest of us.”

Stern sighs, counts off on his fingers, “Mothman is Indrid Cold, Jackalope is Aubrey Little, Cactus Cat is Dani Coolice, Champ is Duck Newton, Hodag is Ned Chicane, Jersey Devil is Arlo Thacker, and Echidna is Madeline Cobb.”

Barclay sags in his restraints. 

“What do I have to do to keep them safe?”

“Nothing. You’re eco-terrorists, Barclay. Even if I wanted to I can’t keep the information I gained secret from my superiors.”

“You could. Like, literally. Just don’t tell them.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t come out as hollow as he needs it to, and Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Ahem, anyway, you won’t be needing this anymore.” He lifts off Barclays blue mask (one that compliments his coppery beard), not surprised at all by the face underneath yet delighted at seeing it. He’s thought it handsome since the first time he laid eyes on it

The spell is broken by Barclay biting his hand. He yelps, dropping the mask on the floor. 

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Neither was unmasking me. Jesus, you never struck me as some gloaty douche  but obviously I was wrong.”

That stings, and so Stern turns on his heel with a flourish. 

“Careful, or I won’t share dinner with you.”

“Oh no, no gruel or power bars or whatever you joyless fucks eat for me--do you smell saffron?”

“Yes.” Stern wheels out the small cart, covered platter glistening atop it and a vase that’s too small for the bouquet sitting in it trying valiantly not to tip over. “I made us saffron rice with lamb, and red wine dark chocolate cupcakes.” He removes the cover, feeling rather smug.

“Shit that looks good.” Barclay whispers, licking his lips. Then he looks up, “Wait, made us?”

Oh lord, the confusion on Barclay’s face sends pangs through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to kiss it away. 

“I, well, it has been exactly a year since we met. And I was trying to think of ways to mark the date, and I know you like cooking and food and so this seemed like a good gift.”

“...Did you make us a fucking anniversary dinner?”

“Technically? Yes.”

“Alright, Mister special agent, how am I supposed to eat it when I’m strapped to a fucking table?”

“I could, um, feed it to you? I shut off the cameras in this room so that I could do so without embarrassing either of us.”

“This what you do every Friday, strap random guys down and feed them? Sounds pretty kinky.” Barclay smirks. 

“I enjoy being helpful, something a so-called ‘hero’ should understand. And I didn’t choose a random guy; I strapped you, specifically, down.”

Barclay fixes him with an amused look before shrugging as much as his bonds allow, “Fine, you clearly worked hard on dinner. May as well make the most of it.”

Stern slices a chunk of lamb, offers it to Barclay who parts his lips without hesitation.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” The blissed out look on his face is one of Sterns favorite views in the world. He hates having to pretend like he hasn’t seen it before. 

As he cuts another piece Barclay asks, “You make the bouquet too?”

“Yes. I took some classes on flower language and  arranging a few years back, and I like doing it.”

Another bite, and this Barclay sighs happily before cocking his head, “You just not gonna eat?”

“Guests eat first.”

“I’m a hostage, agent, not a guest.”

“My point stands.”

“Y’know, if you just undid my hands, we could eat at the same time. Make it a real anniversary dinner instead of some repressed man in black feeding me my last meal as a free man.”

“I’m not just any man in black, I’m your main rival. You said so yourself, once. And the answer is no to the unlocking.”

“Well, there goes that option.” 

Stern sees him tug the strings of his woven bracelet a moment too late. He braces for an explosion or a weapon flying at him. 

Instead, reality warps for a nanosecond, and then Barclay isn’t in front of him anymore. Staring down at him is what he can only describe as a Bigfoot. And honest to god, fur-covered, claw-handed Bigfoot.

A Bigfoot that is no longer restrained. 

“You’re, you’re really-”

“Yep.” Barclay lunges, but instead of grabbing Stern he reaches for the cutlery, tossing it up and over the rooms computer center and far out of range.

Then he grabs Stern by the back of his neck, slamming him against the restraint table. Stern retaliates, jumping up and landing his feet against Barclay’s chest. There’s an “oof” but nothing else. Stern tries to catch him with his stunner, but Barclay avoids him easily, twisting his hands behind his back and letting go as he launches Stern into the window. Mercifully it's made of bullet-proof, triple strength glass, so he doesn’t plummet fifty stories to his death.

He’s simply pinned by his nemesis, the city lights thousands of eyes watching his defeat.

“Are you, ow, all monsters?”

“Nope, just some of us. And you’ve put me in a real bad situation, agent.” Barclay growls in his ear, “first by blabbing that you, and only you really did know our secret identities, and then leaving me no choice but to take off my disguise.”

“I, I’m sorry your poor problem solving skills caused you to reveal that Bigfoot is not merely a codenameOW.” Barclays claws pierce his suit, “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t give up any information to the Pine Guard. I’m prepared to die in the service of my agency.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” He lies

“Nothing you’d miss?”

“No.” 

A rumbling purr in his ear this time, “Not even me?”

“N-no, what, where on earth would you get that idea?”

“Flowers gave you away. Red carnations are admiration, daffodils mean unrequited love, and orange roses are fascination.” 

“That’s a coincidence.” He grits his teeth to prevent the truth spilling out. 

“Not for a guy who admitted he knew their meanings. And you know what else?” He clips Stern’s hands behind his back in cuffs designed to hold the super-strength of Duck Newton, making escape impossible for Sterns normal-human abilities “you put some wild grasses in their to fill the whole thing out.”

“So?”

“Grass means submission. You put all your feelings for me in a vase and gave me plenty of time to take them in, probably thinking it a clever in-joke to yourself. But that one? I’m betting that one was accidental, subconscious. You want to submit. Whether that’s in general or to me I have no clue.”

“Just you.” He may as well confess it. One less secret to carry to his grave.

A low, dangerous chuckle fills the room as he’s spun away from the window and shoved to his knees.

“That what you want, agent?” Barclay replaces the bracelet, becoming human before his eyes, “Want to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, cheeks hot and gaze locked on the floor until Barclay yanks it up by his hair, tearing strands loose from their carefully gelled hold. 

“Aw now, no need for that.” Barclay traces the path of the blush with his thumb, voice mockingly sweet, “know your overlords like everyone to be emotionless, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a good fuck, even if half the city can probably see it from here.”

“Oh lord.” He moans, the image sending his thoughts, his dignity, his blood, south.

Another laugh, his head yanked sideways to take in the view, “Damn, you like that too, huh? Like the idea of everyone watching while one of America’s finest begs me to fuck his face. Your superiors finding out their best agent is so needy he’d do anything for me to touch him?”

The tears pricking his eyes are from want, not shame, when he chokes out, “yes.”

Barclay turns his head forward, then up. 

“Please, Barclay,  please.”

“Please fuck you?”

“Yes.” He whimpers.

“Nope. Sorry, agent, I don’t sleep with the enemy, even if he gives me the worlds bluest puppy dog eyes. Not to mention, threatening the people I love is the opposite of being a good boy. But since it’s our anniversary, I think you do owe me a gift.” His fingers touch the edge of Sterns mask, “let’s see who’s been tracking me for a year.”

“Wait, don’t-” The mask tears off. The two men stare at each other, frozen, one in surprise and the other in fear.

“Joseph?” 

“Hello.” He wants to look away, to see literally anything other than the betrayal on Barclay’s face.

“I, uh, I imagine this will lose me the title of ‘favorite customer’ at the Coffee Lodge.”

“You, you’ve been spying on us. You’ve been at the Lodge almost every fucking day since June, and you’re Agent fucking M, I, I can’t-” Barclay paces, fingers running through his hair, “Did you start coming just to stake us out?”

“Yes. I tracked your movements, Barclay. I’m ashamed to say I accessed the medical records of anyone in the target area who had top surgery to narrow down my suspects, and eventually identified you as Bigfoot. Once I started getting coffee at the lodge everyday it was easy to piece together who else was on the team.”

“Yeah, and flirting with me probably helped a lot.”

“Uhhhhhhhhm.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t try to pretend that wasn’t part of your investigation.”

“It isn’t. Wasn’t.”  He lowers his head meekly. 

Barclay stops moving, sighs heavily, “Is there anywhere in this damn place that’s smaller and doesn’t have cameras?”

“My bedroom only has one. Just take down the smoke detector on the right hand side as soon as we go in.”

Barclay easily lifts him over his shoulder and trudges down the hall and into the bedroom. Rips the “smoke detector” from the wall, sparks crackling when he does. Then he deposits Stern on the bed and turns his desk chair to face it. 

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before my ride gets here. Talk.” Barclay sits down, crosses his arms while Stern attempts to sit up straight.”

“Wait, how can you know that.”

A mild smile, “You really think I’d walk into such an obvious trap without an escape plan?”

“No.” He mutters, dejected, “what do you want me to say, Barclay?”

“The truth, genius.”

“You seem to know most of it already.”

“Yeah, but one big piece is missing; why the hell didn’t you write down our identities somewhere the higher ups could find them if something happened to you? Shit, why not just sic a bunch of agents on us when we were all at the lodge making, or drinking, coffee?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because the lodge was my haven too, alright?” Stern snaps, “I felt understood there, safer than I did in any secret base. And every time Dani laughed at something Aubrey did, or Duck told some corny joke, or you smiled at me, I understood more and more why you all do what you do. I felt my commitment to my work waning. I had to do something to reiterate my belief in it. This was that something.”

Barclay is silent for a moment, taking Stern in bit by bit.

“You want to leave the NHCTF, don’t you?” He leans forward in quiet shock. 

Stern nods, defeated, “I’ve been questioning our methods for some time, but always thought that what we did was in the service of keeping people safe. I’m still not fully convinced the Pine Guard is going about it the best way, but from what I’ve seen, you do a far better job of it than we do.”

“So join us. Help us figure out how to be even better.” Barclay reaches for him, takes his hand.

“You’d ask me to just like that?”

“Most of us like you, Joseph. We’re not super into Agent M, but it’s not like we haven’t noticed you’re not chasing us down as much as you used to. Also, I’d be a really crappy superhero if I didn’t at least try to recruit the smartest man I know to our side.”

Stern blushes more than necessary at the compliment. 

“Okay. I’m in. I’m ready to try being a different kind of good guy.”

“Welcome to the Pine Guard.” Barclay presses the secret hinges on the cuffs, and they drop to the floor. 

A fit of giggles in Sterns throat pours out into the space between them, “Jesus, I didn’t think betraying the government would feel so liberating.”

“Always knew you were a good guy, deep down.”

Another blush has him cursing his capillaries. 

“Heh, you do like it when I call you good.”

“Yes. Though as you observed, I have a weakness for humiliation as well.”

“Y’know, we’ve got a little bit of time still.” Barclay leans back, and Stern perks up when his hands hit his belt.

“And it is our anniversary.” Stern sinks to the floor, covers a few inches on his knees to rests his head on Barclays thigh.

“Shit, you really are a needy little thing.” Barclay shifts and wiggles awkwardly in order to get his close low enough to give Stern the access he needs. Stern nuzzles his inner thigh, skates his hands along muscular legs, making a mental note to discover what they feel like naked and tensing in time with their owners moans. 

“You’re rather, uhm, slick already. Is this where you tell me you got into heroics because you get off on fighting?”

“Nope, just on manhandling you. And you’re in no position to comment, agent.” The growl he puts into that last word has Stern melting forward. Which is helpful, in that Barclay shoves him down the rest of the way. He licks and sucks eagerly at him, moaning messily when Barclay tilts his hips up, pressing and rutting against him. 

“Like I, fuck, said babe, you’ve got no room to feel smuggAH--shit that felt good--amazed I didn’t walk in on you in the lodge bathroom with some dudes dick down your throat while another one fucked that tight ass.”

Stern would like to point out that a) he would never do such a thing in a business he respected and b) there’s only been one dick he’s wanted anywhere near him in months. But he doesn’t dare pull away. Instead he whimpers, shakes his head and takes all of Barclay’s cock into his mouth.

“Hnnnshit, maybe I got it wrong, maybe you, fuck, were one smile away from falling to you knees and begging me to fuck you over the counter.” 

Stern nods emphatically, pawing at any exposed skin he can find on Barclay stomach and hips,  and the larger man laughs.

“Fuck, much as I wanna hold you down and come all over that handsome face, got something else I wanna do even more.” He lets go of Sterns head, nudges him back so he can join him on the floor. 

“Wha-ohshit’ He gasps when Barclay rips the front of his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock. But when Stern tries to thrust up into the warm, tight fist, Barclay pins his hips down with one hand. There’s such easy strength in the movements that Stern tilts his head back to rest on the spotless bedspread, because baring his throat feels like the only suitable response. 

Teeth just sharper than they ought to be sink into the base of his neck, but even as he arches and thrashes in response, he can’t get any stimulation on his cock. Coarse coppery hair tickles his skin as Barclay laughs, “Cute how you think that’s enough begging to get what you want.”

“Barclay, please, I, I’ve wanted this for months, it’s all I want, I will do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Poor special agent, so desperate.” Barclay’s tone is cruel as he drags his hand up in one long, slow stroke. Stern eagerly awaits a downstroke that doesn’t come. 

“Well? Gimme one good reason to indulge my pathetic new plaything.”

“I, I, I’ll be good, so good for you, let you do whatever you want, fuck.” The barest movement of Barclays hand and he sobs, “please, I just want to be good, I just want you to use me, god, please just tell me what you want.” 

“Admit you’re a needy fucker who likes the fact the other cameras in this building can probably hear him begging me to-”

“I am, I need you so badly, I need this, I want you so much, I need youOHyes, yes.” He groans happily as Barclay switches to rapid strokes and drags one of Sterns hands between his legs. He keeps his fingers outside for the time being, focuses on circling his thumb and dragging the other digits in tight patterns.

“C’mon handsome, jack me off, show me how much you like your reward oh fuck, fuck, Joseph, that’s it babe, fuck that’s good.” His head drops to mouth at Stern’s neck with a moan as he grinds against Sterns palm, “shit, shoulda asked you out last week like I was planning to, coulda been doing this every night, yeah, ohyeah.” As he comes his grip on Sterns cock tightens, and even as he rides out his orgasm he’s growling, “come on agent, lemme see you ruin those fancy clothes.”

Stern comes with what sounds, to his ears, like a pathetic cry. Yet as soon as he spills onto his stomach and Barclays hand, the larger man kisses his chest, whispering sweetly, “You’re so good, did so good for me baby, you’re amazing.”

With unsure fingers, he brushes a strand of loose hair from Barclays cheek. Barclay looks up, smiling so tenderly Stern worries he’s dreaming. Then Barclay sits up, cupping his chin and drawing him into a gentle kiss, sighing happily when their lips meet. 

“Is it selfish to be happy that you joining the team means I get to see you everyday?”

“Not in the least. Though you see me most days at the coffee shop anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I get to do this” another kiss, somehow twice as tender as the first, “when I do.”

Stern curls into his arms as he continues, “guess we oughta get you a codename now.”

“You know, I’ve actually given that some thought. Given that only some of you drew your names from cryptids or, um, I suppose your true forms, I think there’s room for a codename that reflects my history with secretive government agencies while staying on theme?”

“I think so too.” Barclay smiles expectantly. 

“In that case,” Stern grins back, future brightening ahead of him for the first time in years, “just call me Roswell.”

[sprinkledonion-blog]

Another real long “I don’t like Bumbleby” post (Part 2)

Part 1 is here. 

The Adam fiasco

We’ve reached the most controversial point in the essay: Adam.

Adam was… a symbol. He didn’t have much to offer in personality and screentime, but he represented. Until he stopped representing and became a mere tool for Bumbleby to develop.

I know, I know, another Adam fan who coincidentally dislikes Bumbleby. What can I say?

Adam was the sacrificial goat for Bumbleby. His existence became so tied to them that his whole faunus vs SDC plot became just an afterthought. He became a puppet to do Evil Things; if you pay close attention, especially in daylight scenes, you can actually see the strings on his back.

Adam had lost his way in every sense of the word. And he became a monster: Bumbleby’s heart.

Bees are gonna beat me up for this one.

Yes, Adam became such a vital piece for Bumbleby to develop, their whole relationship revolved around him. Yes, he traumatized both girls, but V1-V2 gave us nothing else to chew on. No bonding, no cute smiles, no development. Adam triggered the rise of Bumbleby like kaboom. Bam, now there’s Bumbleby. And what cemented their relationship? Killing him.

I need to ask: why does a wlw relationship revolve around a man? Why does everything in RWBY come back to a man? Jaune speaks over Ruby. Pyrrha dies so Jaune can have development. Qrow steals screentime along with Oscar like a madman. Adam is a matchmaker. Can the “RWBY is a feminist show” take die already? It ran away when Pyrrha was fridged.

Worse is? Bumbleby is good because Bumbleby is BETTER than Tauradonna.

Or so it seems. Ahem.

Now. Of course it’ll be better than Tauradonna, as it isn’t an abusive relationship. But what I mean is, this is the ONLY thing going for it. Oh, you should ship it because it’s better than Tauradonna. No, it’s not its own thing. It’s just better than Tauradonna. And no, we can’t stop comparing to it.

I know abuse leaves you a wound it’s difficult to heal, and you’ll inevitably make a comparison. I’ve been in an abusive relationship too. But Bumbleby should be its own thing, developed separately from Tauradonna, and then compared. I didn’t get enough screentime and reasons to ship them, and now you want me to compare it to an abusive relationship? Of course I choose Bumbleby! The other option is horrendous and… hey, this is more manipulative than I thought!

And the killing… oh, there’s nothing more romantic than killing a guy together. Maybe I’ll try this next time I wanna date a dude. Forget Netflix and chill, this is the real thing!

The show handled it… shakingly okay. Blake cried, Yang comforted her. Alright. Fine.

But now Adam’s not here, what’s gonna happen? Let me guess: we’ll get all the Bumbleby screentime we didn’t get early enough. Some say “Great, now it’s gonna be RW-BY instead of RWBY”. Maybe. I don’t really care. Ruby seemed to be more comfortable alongside JNR, and Weiss does what she can. Maybe she could get incorporated to the team too? Or form a new one with Qrow and Oscar (and Ozpin)? Hey, it’s not a bad idea. Either way, the dynamics will change, but as long as they don’t take too much time off other characters, it’ll be fine. I gave up.

DC comics development

I’m not 100% sure of how to feel with this one.

I couldn’t read the DC comic, but some… definitely interesting screenshots were posted. I could see that they don’t care very much about canon (I can’t take Raven seriously anymore). But they also patched some things up, meaning: Bumbleby.

Remember when I complained about not seeing enough Bumbleby bonding to actually buy the ship? Well, DC comics gifted us one, two, eight panels of Bumbleby bonding: borrowing books, offering food, braiding hair. Sounds very nice… and very late. And very fake.

Why didn’t we see this on the show? This feels like those eight panels are supposed to show peak Bumbleby bonding and we must be satisfied with it. Peak LGBT+ representation right there. Why didn’t we cut off Arkos, Renora, Iceberg and Blacksun and spent time with Bumbleby instead? Why should I feel satisfied with a mere eight panels?

Not genuine at all.

Bonus: the newest take goes like “DC comics was CRWBY trying to build more Bumbleby with moments at Beacon we didn’t get to see in the show because the episodes were ONLY 6 MINUTES LONG”. So CRWBY had time to build Arkos, Renora, Iceberg, Blacksun and not the main ship? Those 6 minutes were enough to build straight relationships but not the main wlw one? What an unfortunate coincidence.

What would have you done differently?

Team BSCE.

Bonding: why is Yang interested in Blake? Why is Blake interested in Yang? What does make Yang feel like she can be vulnerable around Blake instead of, let’s say, Weiss? What do they talk about, that isn’t Adam, or Ozpin? Do they have private jokes? Do they look forward to spend time together? Does Blake know what Yang’s favorite food is? Do they train together more time than they should? Why do they love each other? How do they support each other? Does Yang read books about faunus?

Showing: how does Yang feel when Sun flirts with Blake? How does Blake feel when Yang flirts with guys? What makes them blush? What is their body language? Do they notice things about each other no one else notices? Do they think about closeness? Do they think about each other at night? Do they think about kissing each other? How does their attitude change? Do the rest realize something’s going on?

Conflicting: besides Adam, what problems do they have? Blake has been shown to feel like a burden and isolate herself, but what about Yang? Do they have things about each other they barely stand? Do they share the exact same mindset? Do they have arguments and about what? How do they handle disagreements and arguments? How do they approach problems? How do they fix them? Do the same problems come up over and over again? What things they don’t tell each other? What do they hide from each other? Do they expect each other to defend them on arguments with others?

Exploring: what’s their endgame like? What are their dreams and goals, and do they collide with each other? Do they think about the future? Do they have a theme? Did they develop separately, as individual people, before developing their relationships? Are they dependent? If one of them died, would the other (take revenge and) move forward, or fall into deep depression? Can they live apart from each other and things don’t change? And what if things do change? What things change? How do they face change?

Yes, I love asking questions. One brings another, and another, and before you realize, you thought a lot about the couple and their core. You don’t need to answer every single one of these questions, but it can help you develop a clearer and deeper relationship, better than… I don’t know, sudden love?

Show bonus (what I posted on twitter):

·         Yang interested in faunus. It is sudden, and Ruby realizes (Yang taking lots of notes during history class but only on faunus lessons, finding her in the library reading about faunus [allows for cute funny moment! Yang never reads!], talking to Velvet)

·         After being informed, Yang asking Blake about her experiences (Adam topic could be brought up and thus foreshadowed), making them closer. This also has an impact on Yang, which drives her to defend Velvet from Cardin, making friends with Sun, etc

·         Yang would also be more careful about the jokes she makes, trying not to make any racist ones and letting Blake explain her which ones are

·         Just talking in general. Deciding to spend time together when they're free (that does NOT mean they're never with the group)

·         Free time together allows for more talking and deeper topics brought up more naturally (ex: more about Yang's mother, maybe some other insecurities, further deepening her character)

·         Blake realizing Yang is allowing herself to be "weaker" around her, so she supports her a lot

·         They would defend each other in an argument against Weiss for example, and if that isn't the case, whoever wasn't defended would feel hurt and they would have to talk about it (fixing problems and talking out disagreements)

·         LISTENING AND TALKING TO EACH OTHER

·         Knowing small things about each other, for example Yang's secret place when she wants to think, Blake's favourite tea, etc

·         Yang trying to show off her strength, making flirtatious comments that Blake doesn't get and getting embarrassed

·         Yang feeling hurt when Blake spends more time with Sun and seems to be falling in love with her, but not acting on it because she doesn't wanna to get in their way and wants Blake to be happy

·         Blake missing Yang

·         Yang trying to flirt with other girls and Blake feeling strange

·         When talking with Sun, the Yang topic is brought up frequently and Sun realizes and tells Blake she seems special, Blake starts to realize something

·         Blake running away breaks Yang as she had put a lot of trust on her, even allowing herself to be "weak", and she knew about Yang's abandonment issues. Yes it's the same in canon, but it had more buildup and thus is more heartbreaking

·         During Menagerie arc, Yang is brought up often and Blake finally realizes her feelings, while Sun accepts his place as just a friend and supports her all the way (also Yang is his friend too, remember!)

·         From this point on you can drop canon on it just fine

·         BUT ADD THE TALK™! They need to talk about Blake running away. PLEASE.

Conclusion

This is not me saying “Do NOT ship Bumbleby”. Ship whatever the hell you want. I ship things that don’t even make sense. This is me saying “Your ship isn’t as good as you think it is, please stop attacking other shippers for pointing it out, and no, your argument ‘you’re just homophobic’ isn’t always valid”.

I don’t want to talk about bees anymore. Never again. But I probably will, when volume 7 drops. Until then…

Beehaw, I guess.

[swiss-cheeze]

Secretes from the Summer of 69’ || Brian May x reader

((Why are there not good gifs of Brian wtf?))

Warnings: uh, swearing, angst, shitty writing, like, one sexual innuendo. I wrote this in like; an hour or two so it’s really shitty.

A/N: it’s a song fic.

Listen to the song for better use I guess idk.

Lyrics are in bold

———

Growing up was never something for you, you always wanted to be a kid, or at least a teenager. You could get away with everything if you thought of the perfect cover story and had a good complexion, keeping fit always helped as well.

So when you sat down for that final exam you knew everything was going to change. Yeah you got a B- which is good and all, but you finished school; now what?

---

I got my first real six-string.

Bought it at the five-and-dime.

Played it 'til my fingers bled.

Was the summer of sixty-nine.

“Go again Brian” you said rewinding the tape.

“What? But that was perfect!” Brian said dramatically throwing his hands up, John groaned behind you as he came up and pressed the coms button.

“You missed a part dummy!” John said, “If you can’t do it then we’ll get Roger in there and see what happens!”

“What! What part!?” Brian retaliated.

“Just…” you sighed and placed your head in your hands as John kept the coms on, “just play from the start, go all the way through and we can pick and place later” you said exhausted.

“Whatever you say” Brian mumbled. The man put down his drink of water, made a motion to replay the tape and soon the drums and base floated through the room accompanied by Brian’s guitar; he was doing better on this one than any other.

Me and some guys from school.

Had a band and we tried real hard.

Jimmy quit, Jody got married.

I should've known we'd never get far.

“He hasn’t played this bad since Mike left” you said softly making John chuckle beside you.

“Aren’t you glad I came then” John stated as he sat down in a nearby wheelie chair with a large grin.

“Sarcasm isn’t a pretty look on you Deaky” you explained with a grin, you played with a few of the knobs on the control board before leaving it alone and turning around to look at John, “you were so shy and enclosed back then when you first came into the band”

“Shut up” John jokingly said with a smile.

“And the hair!” a voice exclaimed, it was Roger walking through the door with a cardboard tray, two cups of coffee and a tea no doubt, “the hair he had back then WOOF”

“You had that hair back then too don’t forget” John said with a chuckle as he grabbed the coffee Roger had handed him as you grabbed the one he handed to you.

“So, Brian’s still at it then yeah?” Roger said as he leant over the control panel and squinted through the glass, and Roger had the audacity to say his eyesight was fine, “sounds shit”, you whacked Roger in the arm as the man chuckled, followed by John and then you.

“He always sounds shit darling don’t flatter yourself” Freddie said walking through the door, “sorry I’m late, my poor darlings had a stomach bug and I had to take three of them to the vet. THREE!” Freddie exclaimed as he ripped off his sunglasses and landed on the couch with a ‘poof’, “I think it was the tuna I gave them as a treat, needless to say, my loves won’t be getting any tuna no more”

“Don’t you always feed them Tuna though?” Roger asked with a cocked eyebrow raised over his sunglasses.

“Yes but-“ Freddie began.

“Oh please don’t go on about what you feed them Freddie. Please” you said placing your head in your hands, “I’ve heard enough screeching thanks to Brian already, I don’t need you to add onto that” you said with a chuckle.

“Fine! I just won’t feed you then” Freddie said jokingly.

“You don’t feed me enough anyway” you mumbled before blowing a raspberry softly, a soft ‘ahem’ came from the sound booth door.

“I just tried to play my heart out and here you all are talking” Brian said as he sipped his tea, Roger grinned behind his coffee cup as Freddie and John snickered.

“Heart? What heart? All you’ve got is skin and bone my friend” you said with a smile.

“Oh hush hush, don’t hurt the poor boy” Freddie said with a wave of his hand and a grin on his lips. Brian rolled his eyes before slinking over to the couching and plopping down softly.

Oh, when I look back now

That summer seemed to last forever

And if I had the choice

Yeah, I'd always wanna be there

Those were the best days of my life

“Stop eye fucking” John groaned.

“Who?” Freddie asked as he looked between everyone.

“(Y/n) and Brian” John said with a sigh, “they keep looking at each other with these eye movements and I can tell they’re undressing each other as we speak and it is not nice to be able to see” the man said as he rubbed his forehead, seemingly scarred from what he had to witness.

“Well if you hadn’t have said anything we wouldn’t be envisioning it right now” Roger mumbled, “plus you’re the one who saw and thought of it, you have such a dirty mind Deaky” the man said with a grin.

“Well he does have the most kids” you said with a chuckle as you sipped your coffee. Brian shook his head as he laughed softly.

“You’re all a bunch of idiots you know that?” Brian asked as he looked to everyone in the room with a nice twinkle in his eye, “between you three” the man said with a finger drifting between Roger, you and John, “you each have one collective brain cell and none of you are using it right now”, you gasped dramatically and placed a hand on your chest and Roger pulled his glasses down his nose a little and John snorted softly.

“How RUDE!” you yelled, you stood up, “I don’t deserve such SLACK! Especially from a PESANT, like YOURSELF” you said, “come minions, we have work to do” you said to John and Roger; the two simply laughed softly (as did Fred and Brian) as you walked to the door, “no but seriously I gotta get to work otherwise I’ll be late” you said with an awkward grin.

“Oh shit yeah” Brian said, “I’ll see you out love, come on” the man said as he stood up and motioned for you to keep walking. The two of you had been together for close to nine years and only recently gotten hitched. Brian smiled down at you as you grabbed your bags and stood at the door, Brian looming over you.

“Work on your fingering” you said with a snicker making Brian roll his eyes.

“Yeah yeah” the man mumbled softly as he smiled, you smiled too as Brian bent down and kissed you softly as he held your elbow softly with one hand and his other on your cheek, “have fun at work okay?” Brian said as the two of you parted, you nodded.

“I will.” You smiled as you pecked the man on the lips once more before you started heading for the door, “I should be home for dinner, if I’m not then don’t wait up okay?” you asked, turning on your heel and walking backwards. Brian nodded.

“I’ll keep it in mind, don’t worry” Brian said softly, “love you!” the man said as he blew a kiss your way.

“Love you too babe!” you blew a kiss back as you turned just in time to get the door and walk out the place.

Ain't no use in complainin'.

When you've got a job to do.

Spent my evenings down at the drive-in.

And that's when I met you, yeah.

---

Brian didn’t actually know what your work even was, you had never told him, you just said it was something ‘top secret’ and something only you and your workmates needed to know. After being told this numerous times Brian ended up giving up and just treated it as if he knew.

Standin' on your mama's porch.

You told me that you'd wait forever.

Oh, and when you held my hand.

I knew that it was now or never.

Those were the best days of my life.

The thing was, legally you weren’t allowed to tell Brian, and otherwise you would have to-

Let’s not get into that just yet.

---

Oh, yeah

Back in the summer of sixty-nine, oh

---

Back when you and Brian had first started going out you were known as the ‘never would last’ couple. Brian was always the teacher’s pet, goody two shoes, be good boy, and you? You where the reckless, ambitious, ‘throw caution to the wind’, ‘do now, regret later’ person. You got into fights that Brian had to break you out of, he had to make sure you studied when a test came up, he was the one that helped you with your killer hangovers from those regretful ‘celebration’ nights when you got past an exam. You didn’t even properly start saying you and Brian where together until a year in, and even then it felt foreign on both your tongues, but you got over it, got past your reckless phase, studied and became a goodie that people could rely on.

Well, that’s what you let them believe anyway.

Man, we were killin' time, we were young and restless.

We needed to unwind.

I guess nothin' can last forever, forever, no.

Yeah.

---

Times change, people change and appearances need to be kept up. Brian was touring with Queen more than ever, yes you missed him, but this also meant you could get more work done without him around, this meant that you HAD to get reckless, wild, and out of your mind fucking crazy; within your job limits of course.

You watched Brian every time he came on live on the telly, he always dedicated a song to you, it was different each time but it was still cute and you loved it.

And now the times are changin'.

Look at everything that's come and gone.

Sometimes when I play that old six-string.

I think about you, wonder what went wrong.

That was, until the day shit hit the fan.

---

“Brian?” you asked shakily into the receiver.

“Yes love? You sound scared are you okay?” the man asked slightly concerned as he sat on the edge of the hotel couch the band was staying in.

“I-I. Fuck. Brian I made a mistake. Brian I’m so sorry” you said shakily as tears slowly started to cascade down your face, “nothing went right, we all fucked up and they found us. Everyone got out except me and-“

“Wait wait, we? Everyone? Escaped?” Brian chuckled awkwardly, “love, I…I don’t understand what you’re saying”

“I work for the Secret Service Brian” you said in one breath, “I’m in the worst branch, me and my team are the ones who get missions for-…for killing people, some jobs we have to assassinate someone, or-or we have to get certain information from something for someone else” you took a breath, “Brian I’m in jail, I was caught, I AM caught, my post wasn’t secured and the police got in and immediately took me in” you said quickly and shakily. Brian didn’t say anything, his soft breath was the only thing that came from the other side of the receiver. “Brian?” you asked, “Bri please respond” you whimpered softly.

“Ma’am” the guard said, “your time is up”.

“Fuck, um, o-okay.” You said quickly, “Bri I gotta go, please, come get me, I’m being held somewhere in-, fuck I think Germany? I don’t know. Bri please” by this point you were crying as the guard grabbed your arm roughly, “Bri please find me! I have a life sentence! Please!” you pleaded through your tears, you couldn’t end like this, “I LOVE YOU!”

Standin' on your mama's porch

You told me that it'd last forever

Oh, and when you held my hand

I knew that it was now or never

Those were the best days of my life

---

Thirteen years had passed and Brian hadn’t come for you. He had sent a letter, only one letter, stating that he wanted a divorce and even though with the amount of love he had for you, he couldn’t be with someone like you. You cried over that letter, your pillow and the jail cell you were held in had seen more tears then you cared to say.

Brian didn’t come for you, Roger didn’t call, and Freddie didn’t visit.

But John did.

He did all of those things, he couldn’t get you out of jail. But he sat with you outside your cell almost every chance he got. Brought you good food, new tapes to listen to, new books to read, and clothes. Almost anything you asked for.

So when you asked for another letter from Brian, John was definitely taken aback.

“A letter? From Brian?” John asked.

“Please John, I miss him so much” you said softly with tears in your eyes, you reached a hand out to touch John but the stern look you got given from the guard made you bring your hand back in quickly, “even just a ‘go away’!” you said with a watery smile, “I just need something from him. Please. I beg you”, John sighed softly as the bell rung for visiting hours to be over. He stood up as the guard came forward to start escorting him out.

“I’ll…ill see what I can do okay?” John asked, you nodded quickly with a smile, “alright. Next time I come I’ll try and bring a note from him”

“Thank you John! Thank you!” you sniffled as the guard started walking John out of the compound.

---

Oh, yeah

Back in the summer of sixty-nine, oh

It was the summer of sixty-nine, oh, yeah

Me and my baby in sixty-nine, oh

It was the summer, the summer, the summer of sixty-nine, yeah

“This is all he would give me” John said, it had been three months since John had last come to you, and this time he had something to give you. The man looked around to check the guards weren’t watching and slipped it into your cell quickly. You smiled to John widely as you started to open the note quickly, quietly, and trying not to break it.

‘(Y/n)

John told me you wanted a note. So here it is.

Yes I miss you.

Yes I still love you.

Yes I want to get back with you.

I didn’t have enough money back then to get you out but now I think I do. I think I can get you out. Deaky can tell you the finer details as I cannot through a piece of paper and pencil.

Please don’t think any low of me.

The only thing I ask from you is to tell me everything you had been keeping from me for all of those years we were together, what you did, how you did it and answer any of the questions I have to ask you.

I don’t want to start off where we left because that isn’t right.

I want to get to know you again, over dinner, a date if you will. But you must tell me everything I ask for, without hesitation and without keeping anything from me.

No more secretes.

We will have to take this next step together slowly and oh so carefully.

So, in the words of Bryan Adams.

‘Back in the summer of 69’

Bri x’

To say you had never been happier was an understatement as happy tears rolled down your cheeks and you held the note close.

[askenygma]

The July Drop

..

...

<record=“live”_play=“true”>

<R>Loading live stream.</R>

<R>.</R> 

<R>..</R> 

<R>...</R>

<>Play?

<>Close?

<Location>Gotham City, Chinatown District, Brown Bridge</Location>

<Time>9:54</Time>

<Actions>

<EN>rrect! Wow, all of you are just horrible at this! And I haven’t even gotten to the real riddles yet!

<note>4 men were dangling off the end of the Brown Bridge, screaming for dear life. Edward cleared his throat.</note>

<EN>Ahem! Riddle me this-

<BM>Riddler!

<note>Edward was interrupted, though he beamed with delight.</note>

<EN>Batman! You’ve come! Finally, I was suspecting you would catch up to me. As planned.

<BM>Riddler, this game is over. Get down now or else.

<note>Edward ignores him.</note>

<EN>You know, I never quite got the whole code you have.

<EN>I mean, kill no one? Really Bats? How much trouble has that gotten you into?

<note> Batman moved his hand to grab something on his belt when Edward gave a quick shout, hitting the bottom of his cane to the bridge under his feet.</note>

<EN>Hey! Move a muscle and they fall so hard it will put Professor Moriarty’s death to shame.

<note>Edward mentally cheered when the Bat got his reference, as Batman froze before holding up his still hands.</note>

<BM>We can be civil Riddler. This doesn’t need to end in blood shed.

<note>Edward rolled his eyes.</note>

<EN>Oh please. Of course it can.

<EN>I could also have Scarecrow toy with my brain until I forget both my childhood trauma and my middle name.

<EN>But that isn’t happening now, is it?

<EN>Now. Riddle me this Batman! A criminal and 4 civilians dangle off a volcano! You can only save one group. Who shall it be, hm?

<note> Batman sighed softly before pausing in silence </note>

<BM>Save the criminal and the civilians. No specifications clarified how big the group could be.

<EN>Ding ding ding! Exactly what I expected you to say! Now, let’s say we add those specifications!

<note> Everyone watched the interaction go down in utter silence.</note>

<EN>One chaotic criminal and 4 law-defying civilians dangle over the edge of a bridge in New Jersey! You may only say 4 people! But if the criminal is saved, you will most definitely drop the other 3 you so chose! So who shall the dark knight allow the sun, hm?

<BM>Riddler don’t-

<EN>Yaawn! You bore me! If you don’t answer fast I may drop dead!

<note>Batman tried to step forward when Edward raised his hand up high. His purple gloves has a decent sized button on the palm.</note>

<EN>If I close my fist they drop. Move again and the cracks that will ring throughout this district will be on your armored hands.

<note>Batman fell both silent and still.</note>

<EN>Now. This isn’t completely about revenge. So much as a psychology experiment. Testing your little moral code. 4 civilians vs one Riddler.

<EN>The fact you’re even contemplating this makes me think you should be thrown in Arkham with the pygs and tranquilizers.

<BM>Everyone deserves life.

<note>Riddler scoffed and gave a joyful chuckle.</note>

<EN>Oh really? Does the worst of Gotham deserve it? Do those who refuse to reform deserve it? The killers of no cause? The men who strip the poor for fun?

<BM>Everyone deserved a chance. No matter how hard it may be, they will see the wrong in their doings. It’s human nature.

<EN>Hah! Human nature. Sounds like someone dropped out of their sociology class at grade 11. News flash Bats! Not all humans have good intentions!

<EN>Now I will give you this. These 4 morally black civilians are hanging. Though, all the strings eventually connect into one, as you can see. So, if you have the strength, which I know you do, you could save them all.

<EN>But it will take a lot of hands. You’d catch them by a hair, just dangling off the bridge. You’d have to lower them safely while the other palm grips a bridge.

<EN>Essentially, it will take enough hands that you won’t be able to gather more than these citizens once they drop.

“Help us Batman!”

“Let this lunatic drop why don’t ya?!”

“We-we’ll pay you whatever you want, just catch us!”

<note>The words spewed by the hanging Gothamites had Batman mentally cringing.</note>

<BM>And if I catch you in time to get the others?

<EN>Unlikely. That would require you to catch me

<EN> off guard!

<note>As soon as “guard” fell past the Riddler’s lips, he ran backwards, before jumping off the bridge with a gleeful twirl and the closing off his gloved fist; consequentially hitting the button on his palm needed to kick start the others fall.</note>

<note>The 4, dangling for dear life, dropped. Batman gave an angry “No!” before diving to grab their string.</note>

<note>As he did, he gripped the metal of the bridge, ending the fall temporarily just as Riddler foretold, and leaving the civilians unharmed. Riddler gave a loud laugh that rang throughout Gotham as he fell. Batman turned his head in enough time to see Riddler rapidly descend with a wide smile.</note>

<EN>And now we see how the Batman tick-”

<note>Riddler’s voice was cut off by the loud crash of body to ocean, everyone cringing due to it’s magnified volume from the mic once attached to Riddler’s body.</note>

<note>After saving questionable citizens, Batman dove to the water to fish the rogue’s body out. Batman returned to the bridge, wet, in shock, and empty armed.</note>

<note>Riddler was gone, taken by waves. An indirect violation of the Bat’s code and a surprising, startling, ending to every viewer on the bridge.</note>

</Actions>

[spideyxchelle]

Hey ok this is gonna be a little nsfw... but maybe a headcanon where the kids are coming back from decathlon but the school has upgraded from a school bus to a charter bus and it's way more comfy so everybody falls asleep... except Peter & MJ ;) soo maybe they sit together and one way or another Peter ends up fingering MJ?

fam, oh faaaaaaaam. we love the sexy stuff, don’t we? OKAY FINE. but remember, you asked for this. 

decathlon isn’t a sport and its not got the patronage that robotics has a Midtown so every trip they take they get shackled with a terrible, slow, old yellow school bus

and its fun in a weird, retro kind of way. because they all never know if the school bus is going to break down and its slightly reckless but there aren’t any seatbelts and they all know the last row of seats are not really screwed into the floor so when they drive over a bump they all go flying (which can be really fun when trips hit the fifth hour)

but the problem with the old faithful buses is that sometimes they do break down and the Midtown decathlon team’s school bus breaks down coming back from winning nationals in Chicago. WHICH IS LIKE A TWELVE HOUR BUS RIDE FROM CHICAGO TO NEW YORK. and they are only on hour three when the bus breaks down. 

it takes the school and their insurance two hours to resolve the issue which leaves Flash way too much time to play the game let’s-chuck-shit-at-Parker’s-head. which he has been perfecting since middle school. no one really intervenes because everyone is tired and pissed off. and in the grand scheme of things, Peter can handle paper being thrown at his head. he’s Spider-man. 

when the charter bus arrives to take them the final nine hours home all 9 decathlon members and Mr. Harrington all spread out. MJ tries to get everyone to run drills but the exhaustion is palpable and she gives up somewhere around hour three. 

with six hours left of the trip and exhaustion dripping off of everyone, the bus driver dims the lights and puts on some light classical music from NPR. its a lot of Mozart piano concertos. 

Ned lays across the seats in his row and nods off first, then Mr. Harrington and slowly everyone else. 

Peter is sleeping with his head against the window with two and a half hours of the drive left when he feels some pressure on his shoulder. his eyes flutter awake and he sees MJ’s head dropped, no NUZZLING, into his neck. 

sleepily, he whisper, “MJ, what’re you…” “I was cold. shut up.” and Peter does notice how cold the bus has become. he straightens his back which MJ groans about to look around at their other team mates. everyone is wrapped up in their sweatshirts and a few smart kids brought throw blankets. but MJ has neither. 

and he figures if he were her and he was cold…he would probably cuddle with her, too. because they’re such good friends and its not weird. ahem. nope. 

“hang on,” he whispers in her hair and quietly, as to not wake anyone, he reaches in the overhead and grabs his Stark Industries blanket. Tony had it made for him. it says for the world’s most mediocre intern. and he loves it. 

Peter pats his shoulder, an invitation for her to lay her head back down on him, and she does. once they’re all settled he throws the blanket over the pair of them and tries to share the warmth. 

Mozart plays and Peter can’t sleep. so he whispers to MJ, “which concerto is this?” she snuggles closer and mumbles, “Number 22 in E-flat major, K482. Movement II. The andante one.” And he smiles because, duh, of course she knew. 

she tacks on with a yawn, “I like the winds in this one.” “yea?” he whispers, “why?” she pulls his arm around him for PURELY warmth reasons, “its playful, I like when Mozart’s playful best.”  “the piano and strings though-” “he’s still Mozart. he’s straight drama. gotta love him.”

and Peter keeps asking questions as the songs blend and change from composer to composer and MJ has answers to every one. its the weirdest game of decathlon questioning he’s ever had. whispering on a bus in the middle of the night while everyone sleeps around them. but he wants to keep her talking, even if her voice is thick with sleep and her eyes are closed. 

she’s pretty

NOT THAT HE THINKS SHE’S PRETTY BECAUSE, UHHH, HE DOESN’T. she’s just OBJECTIVELY pretty. is all. she’s pretty in like the way that attractive people are. not in the way that he would be attracted to her. get your facts straight. 

or, he thinks so, until MJ complains, “its still cold, Parker.” he squeezes her, “I don’t know what you want me to do, Jones.” “ugh, what help are you? somebody else would keep me warmer.”

and he knows she’s teasing but it still weirdly stings him. like, fuck. no. he’s perfectly capable at keeping her warm. 

and its this weird possessive stroke of thinking that gives him an idea. a dangerous, terrible idea. an idea that could get him in a lot of trouble with Mr. Harrington. but also could end in his murder if Michelle took it the wrong way. 

he doesn’t want to say it. he can’t.

“what?” she demands. and he blinks at her because he’s SURE he didn’t say anything out loud. she rolls her eyes and continues speaking, “what are you thinking about? you’re thinking really loud.” “n-nothing,” he croaks. and she doesn’t by it. he doesn’t blame her. he wouldn’t buy that sad excuse. so she tries again, “tell me. or I’ll kick you.” “that doesn’t inspire confidence.” 

“Peter.” she turns her head to look at him and its hard to look at her and have the thoughts he’s having. ESPECIALLY with her so close. her skin has texture from how close he is to her. that is too close when thoughts are less than pure. 

he’s looking at her too hard, that’s his excuse, because he starts leaning in. NOT TO KISS HER. just to look better. get a closer look. and he sees her eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes. 

before he presses his mouth against hers in the middle of a bus with all of their friends (sleeping friends), she puts her hand on his chest lightly, stopping him. he’s embarrassed but he does not move away. 

she gulps, “what’re you doing?” “looking at you,” he says dumbly. “you could already see me. no need to get this close. its creepy.” “is it?” his voice is drifting into that sleepy sound that only lovers get before they went dreaming. “no. but it should be.”

and their lips barely touch. in fact its the whisper of a kiss. Peter knocks his nose against MJ’s affectionate and sweet.

but leave it to MJ even in the wake of their first kiss to not let his comment go, “what were you thinking about?” he sighs and turns his head away, resting it against the back of his chair. “come on, MJ.” “no,” she insists, “tell me.”

“you just,” a blush starts to creep up his neck, “you were cold and I thought of a way to make you warmer and its whatever.” IT REALLY IS WHATEVER AND SHOULD NEVER BE SAID BECAUSE ITS SO EMBARRASSING. 

but MJ is smarter than Peter and she doesn’t need much to go on to figure out what he’s dancing around. her eyes go wide and she looks so pleased that he’s embarrassed and that he’d even think it. “oh my god. Peter Benjamin Parker. you wanted to get me off on the bus?” 

his stomach does an uncomfortable hiss and he whispers, “damn it, MJ. be quieter.”

she hides a laugh behind her hand. and he’s mortified. “why is that your first thought to keep me warm,” she asks once she’s gained control of her laughter. 

the bus is eerily quiet and Peter can almost hear everyone’s light breathing in their sleep. “it just was. can we drop it?”

MJ’s eyes dance with mischief and he can’t look away. in fact, he’s so transfixed he doesn’t even notice that she’s taking his hand and guiding it under the blanket they’re sharing. 

when he does, he startles and tries to pull his hand away. but she shushes him and brushes her mouth against his ear. its there, she whispers, “i’m cold.”

and he’s seventeen. dumb things give him boners. yes, even the words “i’m cold”. they’re probably the most erotic words he’s ever heard in his life. and he can’t handle it. because fuck. she’s cold. and he could warm her up. she’s offering. 

he takes a quick glance around the bus to make sure that no one is awake. and then glances down the aisle to the bus driver who is still jamming out to NPR. the music is more victorious now. Peter nearly asks MJ who the composer is but thinks better of it. 

he lets her guide his hand under the blankets and feels as she pops open the button to her jeans. it’s a tight fit, she wears tight pants, but his hands sneak inside and his fingers brush over skin lower and lower until….he’s touching her. REALLY touching her. 

its warm but not wet like he’s read about. and he needs to ask, “why isn’t it-” she rolls her eyes and whispers, “you haven’t done anything yet, Parker. move your hand.”

he fumbles, trying to figure out the correct motion. the skin is soft and flexible to the touch. it moves where he takes it. he can actually rub something. but he’s not sure if he’s doing it right. 

the answer? he’s not. 

MJ hisses under her breath. “circles.” and Peter tries that. there is a somewhat solid nub at the apex of her legs that he finds the most intriguing and he starts to roll circles with it. 

he has the thought that this would be easier with his tongue. he stows that thought away for later. 

whatever he’s happened upon is good because MJ presses her forehead against his shoulder and starts to breathe heavily. she’s gnawing into her lip. as if that motion alone will keep her from making any noise. 

its thrilling. the idea of noise. he’s torn between wanting her to scream his name and stay quiet so they’re not caught. 

and he tells her as much, “god, MJ, I wanna hear you.” and she whimpers ever so slightly, to which he corrects, “but not right now. the team.” 

OH GOD. the team. they’re all sleeping unaware around them. 

its weird, but that thought makes Peter hand work faster. 

MJ bites his shoulder to stay quiet and she starts to roll her hips into his hand. 

Peter thinks he might have died. its the only reason Michelle Jones would have allowed him to finger her on the bus with all of their teammates around. its a fucking dream. or he’s dead. probably dead. 

he writes himself off a goner when she starts to kiss his neck as he touches her. like she needs something to do. to distract herself from his hands.

the thought makes him…harder than he already was. let’s be real.

and what was once warm is now wet. and everything is easier when she’s wet. he gets the wild idea to slip two fingers inside of her. in and out. and that gets him a bite on the neck.

he hisses in pain. because FUCKING HELL MJ. but she’s too far gone to even realize or care what she did. 

fuck her. oh yea, he definitely plans to.

he fingers her without relenting until the music of a lively Mozart allegro. BIG FINISH. ALL STRINGS. BIG CLIMAX.

and, well, heh, MJ too. 

her mouth drops open and she starts to make a noise as she climaxes but Peter smothers her mouth with a kiss. to keep her quiet. 

she’s breathless for a good minute and a half, after. and Peter withdraws his hand from her pants. his hand is wet and he’s without a towel. so he wipes his hand clean on his jeans? ah well, he’ll clean it. 

once MJ has recovered, she nuzzles her face into his neck and cuddles up with him. legs thrown over his lap. to which his boner is still a friend. 

as she starts to nod off, Peter lays his head back on the seat in shock. like WTF JUST HAPPENED?! that was the weirdest, most amazing thing to ever happen to him. how. who. how. 

MJ flicks his nose, “stop thinking so loud, Parker. I’m warm now, and I’m trying to sleep.”

so he tries to shut down his brain. its hard but he does. and they both sleep cuddled up with one another for the rest of the bus ride home.

when everyone wakes up they’re a little shocked to see Peter and MJ wrapped up together. and Ned spots the darkening bruise on Peter’s neck in the shape of teeth. he doesn’t want to know.

as they all start to pile off the bus, Peter is last. 

the bus driver clears his throat, “um, son?” Peter stops. the bus driver continues, “it was Mozart’s piano concerto. Number 17 in G major. The allegro. in case you wanted to know. my wife and I were Paradise City. Guns ‘N Roses.” 

PETER DIES. actually. or it feels like it. because this man….he KNEW?? holy shit. he’s dead. 

MJ climbs back on the bus and skeptically takes in the bus driver and Peter. she grabs him by the wrist and drags him off the bus, “thanks, sir,” she mumbles. 

he’s still reeling from everything when MJ crowds him against the back of the high school for a proper kiss. nothing was really good on the bus. the angles were too awkward. 

when she pulls away, pleased with herself, she shoulders her bag and starts to walk off in the moonlight toward her car, “see you tomorrow, Parker.”

he stands there in profound confusion for a whole five minutes before he says to no one in particular, “what the fuck?!”  

[deathsdesiign]

I’m posting this, but i’m going to delete it after a day cause it’s not edited for tumblr. but it’s also mort’s original about or whatever for the forum he’s from. and i figure people might want to see it. under a read more cause it’s long af 

The room is bright and sparsely decorated; almost clinical if it wasn't for the collage of somewhat crude pictures and posters on the far wall. Images that are quite clearly of corpses in various stages of the embalming process. Like before and after shots of a particularly gruesome accident, except that a young face is grinning at the camera in each of them. Body bent over the table, offering a thumbs up or thumbs down, in a scale you're not sure you ever want to know. You want to look away, your eyes are burning with the effort, but it's like watching a train wreak. You can't look away no matter how hard you try, and each set of pictures seems to be more gruesome and gore filled then the last.

"You know people used to pay to have their corpses photographed? Wicked, huh?"

The voice startles you, and your heart stops for a fraction of a second. Ironic considering your current location. If there was ever a better place to drop dead, surely the prep room of a funeral parlor would be it. But considering you were alone with three corpses just seconds ago your little moment of fear doesn't seem too uncalled for.

With a spin you're facing the young man. He looks out of place in there; jeans and a black t-shirt, with beat-up converse on his feet. Like he'd snuck in to get a glimpse at the dead, and you should be calling security.

Except of course you know better.

"Yep, they used to drop their loved ones off. Get them all nice an' tidy. Then people like me would prop them up real nice using wires, or you know stands or whatever. Get them looking like everything's swell." He's pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, black ones, if you must know. "Photography was expensive back then, people could only really afford like three pictures tops. Some of them, that's the only family photo." He laughs, and dark eyes drift up to focus on your face. Eyes that are much too old for that childish grin. "Can you imagine that, family photo with all the kiddies gathered around grandma's corpse?"

You kind of just stare at him, what else are you supposed to do? You're here because haven hill needs this interview, and with the three car accident victims laid out in front of him, he'd put off this meeting for the last time. So they'd sent you here. To the last place anyone should ever want to go willingly.

At least anyone human.

"Ahem, Mr. Wynter I-"

"Please, dude. Call me Mort. Or Morty, whatever gets your gears grinding." He's grinning, but he's also prepping a tube and syringe, and just looking at it is making you want to throw up. Never mind the corpse with an unrecognizable face laying on the table between you.

"Um...Mort. You know why I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, you want to hear my story, I get it. You don't mind if I talk while I work do ya? These guys need to be prepped by tomorrow and- are you gonna be okay? You're looking kind of green around the gills there?"

"I'm fine...just-"

"Never been this close to a body before, huh?" He looks sympathetic but you doubt it. For some reason you doubt his ability to be something so...human. Especially not when there's a wall of selfies with corpses at your back. All you want is for this to be over, and to get the fuck out of here.

"Just start from the beginning, alright?"

"Alright, but it's a long story. So I hope you're not planning on going anywhere for a while."

"Just go."

He's working as he talks, but to your relief he's at least talking and for the moment you can forget the bodies laying around you. Car accident victims with their faces a mess and their bodies shattered. Of course your eyes drift down anyway to watch as he begins the draining process, unable to look away even as the body's fluids seep out of the plastic tubing and down a drain. It makes your stomach flip and turn as his voice washes over you; enthusiastic, but almost mechanical. Like this is something he's shared a thousand times before, and its become little more then a script to recite.

I wasn't born. Not in the strict human sense of the word. What I am, my nature, it kind of doesn't allow for that kind of thing, you know? I mean sure there was a moment where I wasn't there and then a moment where I was, but I didn't have a mother. Or if I did she or he or it, wasn't around when I finally realized that I could...well, realize things. There were others that came before me of course, you might recognize them. The oldest was another pair of twins; Light and Darkness, then came Life and her twin Time, then my sister and I.

You're probably wondering; How could you have a twin if you're not born? How do you know? Well the answer to that is kind of simple really. You just did. And if you didn't, you had the older ones to tell you that's how it was. According to Life we flared into existence one instant after the other. We always came in pairs, with centuries between each match.

He laughs and you don't really understand why. But it's a sound that sends chills through your entire body, like you've just taken a dive in ice water.

A little on the bubbly side for my taste, but I could handle that-

Anyway, I'm off track here. Which I shouldn't because this can stretch on for centuries, and I doubt you have that much free time.

Basically it was six of us, three pairs, but the focus of all this is my sister and I. Like I said we were twins, except we weren't. It's just the easiest way to describe us in human terms. Technically we aren't related or anything, we're just there. Concepts, constructs, that help the world and the universe run. Fate's purpose was to write out the stories of each and every being in existence. She knows literally everything, and if you were to go to her 'room' you'd find that it was filled to the brim with books and strings that crisscrossed all over the place. An organized mess with her in the center of it, blank stare focused off into the distance. I asked her once what that was like the whole 'seeing everything and anything thing' and the way she explained it was like having an infinite number of televisions playing in your head at once. Crazy right?

I do not envy her in the least...but then I guess it's something you get used to. I mean it's not like my version of keeping track of things is any less fucked up.

He pauses then, and takes a minute to turn around, arms reaching behind him to tug up his shirt. The process makes you pause in confusion, but then your eyes widen and you feel yourself gasp. It takes a moment but clear skin seems to shimmer away and suddenly every inch of him is covered in bloody scratches..and they're moving. You know for a fact that they're words; names...but they heal and reappear far too quickly for you to even begin to read them.

"Neat, huh? I think it's just our world...but I might be wrong. I feel like the longer I stay here, the more names from this place start to pop up." He's shrugging and the scratches vanish, leaving his skin clear ( at least to your eyes ), before he lets his shirt drop back down. "Doesn't hurt by the way, in case you're wondering."

A gulp, and you find yourself asking "A-at all?"

He shrugs, fixing the tube to start pumping the body with formaldehyde. "I think it did at first...but I don't remember. It was fuck-all-forever ago." Stepping away from the body, he moved to the second table, waving that you follow. "That one's gonna take a few minutes so." He'd set up some bottles with what appeared to be cleaning supplies, hands moving deftly over the man's limbs. Lifting the arms and wiggling the fingers.

"Gotta check for rigor....anyway, where was I?"

"Uh..." it was a struggle to keep the queasiness building in your stomach. Especially with this one. Arguably the worst of the three. "Your s-sister..."

"AH, yeah."

It's just the way it was.

From the get-go we had pretty much one job and we sort of just dove right on into it. I mean it was our entire reason for existing, you know? So it was kind of a given that from nanosecond one we were doing what we were programmed to do. Fate would write out the stories, when someone was supposed to die I'd get the name. ( By the way I mean real honest, to goodness Death. Not 'oh look I kind of sort of died but hallelujah I didn't' ) Like, when I get your name, that's it. Unless Life pulls some divine move bullshit and calls a God or something to intervene, your soul is fucking mine.

I'd like to think she had a little more respect for me then that. Normally she'll give me a heads up if she doesn't want someone to die ( mostly so I can intervene with Fate cause I mean my sister DOES NOT enjoy outsiders fucking with her shit. ).

You should count yourself lucky by the way, not everyone gets a backstage tour of this shit. It happens in another plane of existence. One, people like you can't even dream of. It's broken into sectors and my personal space is kind of like this void where I can go anyplace I want. I just have to think it.

Makes getting souls and tossing them off to their respective resting grounds a hell of a lot easier. Just gotta think it, and boom I'm there. Easy as popping an eye out.

Fate and I, this is what we did. Non-stop. For billions of years. Since the first spark of life it was me and her; writing and reaping. Over and over and over again. You know how fucking boring that is? I mean lets just put aside that we're basically immortal concepts and not actually people, for like five seconds. Can you imagine doing the same damn thing non-stop; morning, noon, and night. From the instant you crawl out from between your mom's legs to the moment you fall ass first into your coffin? It could drive you mad, and you know, I think it kind of did. Well...not me, but Fate? God damn, you should have seen her. Everything that happens next? It was all her idea, but you're not gonna see me complaining. Fuck that. Those were some of the funnest years of my life, and I'm going to tell you exactly why..cause buddy, it's got about everything to do with how I got here.

He's stopped, seemingly to catch his breath, but really he's gesturing animatedly at the body between you two. "Holy shit dude, this guy's ribs are poking out. Come see!"

"Um...no."

"Aww, c'mon it's just like the movies. Here, look." Before you can stop him, he's yanking you forward and your eyes widen because you can't help but stare at where he's pointing. The stark white bones jutting free of the man's side. It makes you want to throw up, and you gag, trying to pull free. Despite the scrawniness of his size; the thin arms, there's a power hidden behind those muscles. Strength that keeps you pinned as one gloved black hand pokes curiously at one of the bones. He's got his face as close as possible too, hovering over the wound, and inches from yours with that same grin. "Neat, huh?"

The urge to throw up is growing stronger now.

He seems to finally sense your discomfort and his hold loosens and drops away. Finally allowing you to shoot back away from the table until you're pressed against the far wall. Gasping for air; and unfortunately finding nothing but the stale air of the morgue. The sharp smells of copper, formaldehyde, and death.

You need a distraction, fast. "C-can you bring people back?" It's the first question that pops into your head. Your eyes by this point are rolling around in your skull in an attempt to look at anything BUT the dead man on the table. Though you finally settle back on him, just in time to see him offering a thumbs up and smile at his phone as he takes another picture for his wall.

"Me? Nah." He snorts, "I told you there was a Life right? Only she can do that shit...now what I can do." His nose crinkles, and he tilts his head "I can keep you from dying. For however long as I want, well, maybe not forever. There is an order to this shit and eventually I have to listen to it." He shrugged "That's when the cuts really hurt you know, when I keep someone kicking even though their name showed up? It hurts like a bitch. It's different when Life does it, cause you're getting a second chance, but me? Nah if I keep you around it's still part of your first. So your name is going to just keep slicing itself in till I get the message." he snorts "Course you might not want me to. I can keep you alive forever but I can't heal you so lets say you jumped off a fucking building; splat. Can you imagine being alive, like that? Would you want to be?" It sounds horrifying and you find yourself shaking your head in horror. "Didn't think so."

He shrugs, spinning a pair of scissors on his fingers. "'Course it's not all bad. I can also keep you alive long enough for someone or something else to intervene? I mean lets say I stabbed you in the heart right here and now. Imagine if the doctors had literally all the time in the world to fix you? They could patch you up, hell they could even take your heart out and wait for a new one to show up months later and you'd still be fine." he grins. "It's relative really. The order's there and I have to follow it...but people can intervene, people 'change it up' or 'cut in first'."

"I-I don't think I follow."

"That's alright, that's what the next part of the story is for."

I mean...I'm not evil either, it's kind of morally grey actually. I have no idea what I am, but anyway...

The games started pretty recently all things considered. You'd expect this whole fiasco to be my idea, but it wasn't. Like I said, doing the same thing over and over again it drove you mad. And if anyone one of us deserved to go mad it was Fate. I mean she had the whole 'infinite tvs in her head' thing going for her. It's no surprise when one day she kind of just yanked the floor out from under me.

I was actually pretty goddamn pissed at first. There's not a lot to get excited about in my line of work, but occasionally. Occasionally I'd get something big. Like war or tragedy big. Sometimes you people will fucking screw each other up so bad and the death count can just blow your mind. Other times it's some freak accident or some natural event. Either way, the big stuff. God that gets my jollies cooking if you know what I mean.

The stream of death on a daily basis is constant. Always flowing, never stopping. It's like the blood flow of the universe. People's souls are moving in and out like air through cells. It's beautiful ( if you're not forced to look at it forever. ), like a work of art. Sometimes though, there's a big rush of it. It's like when your beautiful mountain view is broken by a sudden avalanche. It's still fucking beautiful, it's nature, but it's beautiful in a different kind of way. You feel me? A chaotic, heart pounding kind of way.

That's what was about to happen. A big chaotic something.

A bridge collapse to be exact.

I'd been planning this for months, eagerly anticipating what was going to be the biggest flash point tragedy I'd seen in ages. I was fucking psyched for all the souls that were about to come flooding through my door. Literally the highlight of my existence in that moment as depressing as that might sound to you, I'd like to take this moment to remind you that people dying is how I exist. There's no beating around the bush or lying about it. I live and thrive because people are dying, and it's not my fault I get my jollies from big tragedies. So don't go thinking I'm the one that caused this to begin with. I don't cause Death, I don't kill things. I collect what dies. Simple. Easy. This bridge was going to collapse and all I had to do was stand back and watch it all happen.

That's when Fate did her thing. You see Fate, her job is basically nothing. It's watching, witnessing, writing. She isn't supposed to intervene like Life might, she can't even grant things like deja-vu like Time can do sometimes if he's feeling especially douchy one morning. Fate basically drew the short straw in our little relationship. Which is I guess why she just snapped. I honestly think that she did what she did just so she could see if she could actually do it or not, at least that first time. She wanted to be something more then a bystander is what I'm guessing, and was I mad that her little ego trip ruined the greatest day of my life? Yeah a little bit.

See she shoved what she could see, into one of the bridge victims. He saw and lived his fate down to the very last second. He saw every moment, felt the spray of blood on his face, probably even felt his damn soul leaving his body. Only to weak up like it was all a very vivid, very 'about-to-fucking-happen' dream. Of course dream boy shit his pants and freaked out. Now, he didn't manage to save EVERYONE on the bridge, but he saved six people. Six people living on borrowed time, six names that suddenly hurt.

You see, I'd never known you could skip a name. Before only Life did it, and like I said there were no consequences when that happened. This time? Nah, this time I felt it. I felt those names digging into my skin like whatever divine force held the pen was pissed at me. Not Fate. Me.

I had never felt pain before. It was kind of awkward.

Here he was stopping again, focusing on his work, or gathering his thoughts. This part of story seemed to take more concentration seeing as his demeanor had changed somewhat. He was still at ease in his surroundings but there was a more focused expression on his features. Eyes darkening as he finished prepping the last body and gestured for you to follow him back to the first. "I could never understand my sister. You'd think that she did all of that because she cares. I mean...why else give the poor kid a premonition? Why even bother trying to save anyone's life if you didn't actually want them to be saved?" A huff of breath, that frosted in the air in front of him as though you both stood out in the snow. Morgues and funeral parlors were kept cold, naturally to preserve the dead, but not that cold. That was him.

"She didn't care?"

He had face close to the first victim, and he glanced up to shake his head. "Not one fucking bit." A chuckle "She's not evil, so don't go thinking that either. None of is is good or evil. We're...grey. We're not supposed to feel anything, I don't think...but we do." His head tilted slightly "I used to call it a 'backfire bond'. It was like we were meant to be connected to humanity. To help it run, but something went wrong. The connection was supposed to go only one way and I guess at first it did. Only the more people there were, the bigger the flood of information going through the bond.Until the only way for it to stay open was for all of that to go both ways." He straightened, hands falling to his hips, "Does all of this make sense?"

"Not really."

"Figures. Well, the only other way I can explain it is like a doorway. If you have one of those double doors and the crowd is small you can just open one and everything is fine. The people coming through are usually coming one or two at a time on a good day and it's easy to keep track of everything. But then some huge nightclub or something opens upstairs and suddenly that one door is being flooded with people trying to come in ten or twenty at a time. Not just that but there's people wanting to go out and you're standing there trying to keep track of it all. Eventually you need to open the other door to ease the flow. Except that second door was closed because it actually cut through your home or your office...so now this surge of people is walking through your personal space." He shrugged "You don't want them too but they're there, and when they come through bits and pieces of them get left behind. Clothing, accessories, the stink of their perfume. It lingers inside of your personal space like a disease you can't get rid of."

"I think I get it now...you were absorbing parts of humanity? Parts of us?"

"Bingo."

"And your sister...she.."

"She absorbed a lot more then the rest of us. Enough to make her a little cruel. She's a total sweetheart of course, but something inside of her- nah, something in there is broken. Like I said before she gave the first vision just to see if she could. She knew it'd do nothing, except maybe torture those people, but she did it anyway. Just to see."

"What about you, what'd you do?"

He grins.

Anyway, I stormed to where Fate was and I yelled. After all this was a mess that had repercussions all over the place. The list on my skin was practically having seizures. Simply because as long as these people were alive they were interacting with other people, changing events that they shouldn't have even existed for in the first place. Because of them certain events that should have happened didn't. And I couldn't just snap my fingers and make them all simultaneously drop dead of an aneurysm. I'm Death but up until then all I did was collect souls, I didn't physically interact with the world to actually cause anything.

Fate didn't make it any better. She was pleased with what she'd done. Like the cat that swallowed ten canaries she just kept taunting me. Saying that she was better, that she'd bested me. Laughing because now I was stuck, and she could beat me whenever she wanted. All she had to do was show someone what was coming, and that was it. "Let Fate Decide" She told me, and grinned like a cracked piece of glass right at me. Fate had decided. She'd decided to be a pain in my ass.

Well two could play at that game.

I decided that if she could interfere then so could I. It took a little practice but I managed, following her little 'chosen ones' and playing with the world around them until I caused a brutal enough accident. Sometimes they caught on. ( Even then I had to go in order ) and sometimes they even managed to avoid me more then once. Hell there was even one time where Fate just kept giving the girl visions. Over and over and over again every time she noticed me getting ready to do what I was doing.

Have you ever heard of the game mousetrap? It's a personal favorite. A board game where you have this confusing setup in the middle of the board and everything's connected. When the mousetrap is set off one thing causes another until the cage comes down over whatever player gets caught.

That's what I did.

Turn on a forklift and taking the break off so it starts moving on its own. Directing it towards a shelf full of hardware supplies, knocking the supplies down so that one of the wooden logs bursts the bag on an air compressor making it explode. That explodes knocks some dude ten feet into a wall of spikes or a nail gun with the safety off. Brutal, but effective. If no one stops it or intervenes I win. I get the soul that I needed to get and fix my list. Except, that kind of power...it gets to your head. It makes you want more, and eventually we stopped seeing it as our job. We were seeing it as a game.

It didn't matter that we were playing with people's lives. That we were making humans who were set to die especially brutal and traumatic deaths to begin with, miserable. All that mattered is that Fate could give them premonitions and I could get them killed. It became a race; could I get rid of all of them before they caught on, could I kill the last batch before she started the new one. Of course I was limited by a strict order and she wasn't so there was a bit of an unfair advantage. I could kill people but if they escaped my trap I'd have to swing back for them later, and if Fate started a new group I couldn't get to the survivors of the last one until I'd run through the new people.

Life thought it was disgusting.

Oh but it was so much fun.

We did our damage, and sometimes I even gave them hints myself. Like...did you know that if you're next but you kill someone who wasn't supposed to die. You switch places on the list? Technically since these people weren't supposed to exist in the first place, anyone they killed could arguably be classified as 'not supposed to die'. I told them that, I made sure that they knew...gave them hope. Then I made sure they picked people who didn't have particularly long to live anyway. Nice right?

You look horrified and he can see that, but he just smiles at you. Fingers working to stitch up the broken face of the corpse in front of him. Fixing the damage of whatever accident got him him. "We were cruel sons a bitches, that's obvious...but we were bored. We couldn't help it. I think, in the end, that's how the darkness found us."

Here you perk up. Sensing the closing of the story.

"We're supposed to be background noise, but all this playing with people's lives meant that we had our hands buried deep into the world. We were leaving our little side dimensions and spending more and more time among people. Giving them visions, fucking them over. Fucking each other over. Too busy to notice that something was wrong. There was a taint in the air...a sour taste like rotting corpses." His nose crinkled, and it's almost ironic. "Sis and I, by rights we should have been the first to notice that something was killing people. Something big was destroying the world...wiping out Fates and flooding me with souls, but we didn't."

He sighs, and stands back, hands stuffing in his pockets "When the Darkness was completely here I didn't notice until I finally went back to my dimension. The place was packed. Full to the brim and growing fuller...straining with the influx of death and destruction that was taking place and it was only getting worse. I tried, I really did try to fix the damage. To start the souls moving on but...to where?" His head shook and there might have actually been sadness there. "The places they should have been going weren't fairing any better; heaven, hell, hades, Elysium, purgatory. Didn't matter, they were all feeling it. It was Chaos."

"That bad?"

He nods, and his shoulder's slumped "Fate was freaking out, the tvs in her head were shutting down or something, I guess. But I couldn't even be bothered. All those souls were in my domain and I could hear them screaming, could hear them crying. They wanted to go somewhere, but I had nowhere to put them. You'd think it wouldn't phase me much but that was my purpose it was fundamental part of who and what I am. What good is a Grim Reaper, Death, if he can't traffic souls to their final destination? Worthless that's what."

"That's not-"

"Oh believe me it is. I broke down. I couldn't do it, couldn't even begin to handle it. I tried but it was too much, so I ditched. Didn't even tell Fate where I was going. I just...had to get out of there. Had to go back to the world and breathe. I pretended to be human for a little while, that's how I found out about the portal. I didn't think I'd ever cross. My duty, my job is the animated world. I'm connected to it...stitched into it. I didn't even think I could cross."

You're watching him closer now, the changes in his expression. A hundred different emotions flicker there in the course of all this. Too fast for you to really read any of them. "But you can? Or you could..."

"Yep. I decided to give it a shot. Who knows, maybe if I'm not there people can't die anymore. right? Worth a shot. I took the dive, and now I'm here. Gotta say...being an actual real human. It's a fucking trip." He laughs now, and a bright grin spreads across his face "I knew about all this stuff but to actually get a chance to play with any of it? To watch movies, play video games, take pictures? EAT FOOD. It's great. Better even. No wonder nobody wants to die...fuck if I had all this, I'd want to live forever too." The grin widens, almost maniacal. "Good thing I can, right?"

You shake a little at the look on his face, and then he's suddenly moving around the table to stand next to you. Wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close before holding his camera phone up over your heads. "It's been nice meeting you kid, loved the chat but I gotta head back to work." There's a flash as he grins at the camera before turning and laying a sloppy kiss on your cheek. "Tell your mom to cut back on those candies she likes, and stay away from public transportation." You're left in minor shock as he saunters back to his side of the table, tucking his phone in his back pocket. "I better not find you using any of that in a book without permission, remember I can find you." A teasing wink.

Too bad you didn't see it that way. You were practically running out of there once you'd finished. Desperate to escape the bodies and the chill he'd settled into your bones.

Don't take the bus?

Why?

[meditationadvise]

Tonight`s Halloween New Moon In Scorpio Is The Most Powerful Of The Year. THIS Is The Time To Manifest Your Wildest Dreams

Abracadabra! On Sunday, October 30, the Scorpio brand-new moon does an effective vanishing act, burying our globe in darkness-- in the best way possible.

As la luna shrouds us in a shroud of mystery, we plunge into the darkness of the hidden universe within ourselves. As our external eyes, as well as our internal vision, change to the darkness, it is right here we could begin to see the light. New moons are generally unnoticeable to the nude eye, yet we could want to the dark evening skies as if it were an empty canvas-- symbolic for new beginnings and also intention setting.

There's nothing midway about the intensity of Scorpio energy, which can often drift to the extremes. While Scorpio is associated with control, prominence, and intensity, it births an exceptionally powerful and spiritual power, as well. Scorpio is the leader of makeover, making this lunation additional effective when it concerns changing components of our lives that have been-- until now-- previously blocked.

Sunday's Scorpio new moon could be absolutely alchemical. Are you all set to turn a leaden element of your life right into pure, shimmering gold? Obtain the round rolling on those metamorphic initiatives. Actual change takes job-- as well as it never ever simply occurs overnight. However this is a NEW moon, so it's everything about establishing clear intents then jumping off the beginning block. We have until May 10, 2017-- the date of the matching moon in Scorpio-- to break out of limiting routines as well as replace them with routines that give us life.

The Scorpio brand-new moon will certainly rest at a close level to calculated Mercury, so operating from a specific plan is the way to win. Mercury is the social butterfly of the zodiac, so ignore having a hard time alone making change. Sign up with a support system, online and in real-time, to champion each other as we rise from the ashes!

Here are a couple of routines you could do to alchemize your life at the Scorpio new moon:

1. Transform garbage into treasure.

Scorpio is the regenerator of the zodiac: the typical Phoenix, the best recycler. Its alchemical powers can transform metaphorical introduce gold. Today, you simply might discover something in a dump worth salvaging. A connection, a pair of shoes, a journal entry that turns into a prize-winning short film ... there's something you've deserted that's ripe for reinvention. Discover it. Re-spin it. Make something old shiny and also new again.

2. Inspect beneath 'the hood.'

Scorpio is the indication of interior wellness, and the Scorpio new moon is a golden time to restore your inner well-being before the winter. Ruled by Pluto, god of the underworld, Scorpio is consumed with exactly what's occurring on the in. Have not had your blood attracted for some time? Make a consultation for a little needling. (Scorpio is specifically connected to hematology, so if you're feeling worn down, you could find a need for more iron at this new moon.) Befalled of touch with your gyno? Come by for a tete-a-tete with the ol' speculum. Cleans, detoxes, colonics, severe facials (think: aestheticians pressing the s *** outta your pores) will certainly siphon out all the cruds, rejuvenating and restoring your glow.

3. Rebirth your sexual prowess.

Scorpio is best referred to as the 'sex indication,' as it rules the reproductive organs. However, sex is much from leisure under Scorpio's reign. It's a way of getting to greater airplanes of euphoria, consciousness, and spiritual understanding. The Scorpio new moon is an excellent time to up your libidinous literacy. T is for tantra, so start your sex-related alphabet lessons there. Back up a few letters to O, and clean up on climaxes as well as oxytocin. Oxytocin is the 'bonding hormone' that's released when ladies nursed, so look adoringly at a baby/kitten/puppy as well as (drumroll) at a climax. Scorpio rules perma-bonding, so this hormone is of unique rate of interest today. If you do not desire to wind up fixated with a no-strings fling, find out about your inner drug store and its transformative chemical powers.

4. Embrace the urge to merge.

So you're generating income, however what are you truly doing besides spending it? Scorpio comprehends that true riches originates from possession: actual estate, assets, intellectual home. Scorpio guidelines joint resources, whether it's a residence that you co-own (with a partner OR the bank), money that you've borrowed from a financial institution, or intellectual legal rights to an item of work that pays you passive income.

Today, look at your portfolio as well as count your properties. Perhaps you have actually got a varied spread of stocks, a lodge, as well as aristocracies from an optioned flick. Perhaps you've just got your great-grandma's wedding ring ... or nothin' a lot at all.

Whatever the situation, the Scorpio new moon is ideal for establishing your mind on making your money job harder for you. If you're in financial obligation, develop a settlement strategy or decrease your rate of interest by changing to a zero-percent equilibrium transfer card. You might also hock some things on eBay as well as put the profits right into an interest-bearing account. Reduce your carbon impact AND ALSO your costs creatively: Bike to work (or carpool), host meals to lower the grocery store costs, or begin an investment club with some wise friends.

5. Harness your psychic powers.

Scorpio has a track record for being uncannily intuitive, even downright psychic. This brand-new moon will certainly open up a powerful website, producing sixth sense as well as recognizing flashes. In this uber-practical, material globe (the domain name of Scorpio's OPPOSITE indication, Taurus), the majority of us might have the tendency to brush these messages apart, never ever giving much support to our inner assistance. However in Scorpioville, absolutely nothing is also freaky, psychedelic, or astonishing to be explored.

What would take place if we spent the whole day communing with the little voice in our heads? If we did 5 to ten minutes of free-writing on top of each hr, allowing our hand dancing throughout the web page, revealing the inner workings of our minds? What may look like crazy-talk could in fact be the kernels of brilliant thought. Shush the inner movie critic and also let it move. We guarantee that you'll be surprised on your own at least when throughout this brand-new moon.

An eyes-closed, lights-off meditation might also yield brand-new 'view.' You might also position a crystal on the area in between your eyebrows, that little location called the third-eye chakra which is the physical factor where greater awareness as well as intuition circulations. Battering out an ancient rhythm in a drum circle could get you in a close to trancelike state also, quieting the mind and also awakening your extrasensory assumption. Allow go and let it stream. Deep space is your psychic hotline now.

6. Take a digital detox.

In maintaining with Scorpio's 'tune in, activate, leave' ethos, circle the Scorpio new moon for a 24-hour media diet plan. Silence social media and give on your own a breather from the blogosphere. You might not understand what does it cost? you're zombie-walking with life, absorbing the ads, feeds, as well as hundreds of images you see daily. In the words of Scorpio thought leader Terence McKenna, 'Stop consuming images and also begin creating them.' Paint. Draw. Develop a collage ... and don't be amazed if your images manifest into kind in the days ahead under Scorpio's effective influence.

7. Fan the flame of desire.

To allow sex-related power to training course with our bodies is to touch the force of life-- this is something Scorpio well recognizes. Although this indicator obtains a representative for being vampy and also compulsive, in its highest expression, Scorpio could evoke a sacred sexuality. Believe: tantra, mind-body-soul links, a timeless as well as timeless appeal. Our sexual triggers never head out, yet we must maintain the pilot burner lit.

Forget just what the style mags have announced as attractive as well as stop obsessing in the mirror. Sexuality does not live there. It stays in our link to eros, which originates from being incredibly present and fired up about life. Relocating your body in a manner that makes you feel sensual is the method to obtain this magnetic pressure moving. Who cares if Sunday is a college night? Welcome the evening owl vibes of this new moon as well as dancing 'til way previous your going to bed. (For extra on this, look into the sacred seduction mentors of Cat Cavalier.)

Scorpio is the indication that is also connected with fatality and renewal. Sometimes, inescapable finalities must occur in order for us to come to life-- and right into our sexuality-- once again. This eclipse might hint 'the start of the end,' as we muster the nerve to claim bye-bye to scenarios (or limiting ideas about ourselves and also others) that are deadening, draining, as well as downright unsexy.

Of course, farewells are not always a fatal issue. The French refer to an orgasm as 'La petit mort,' translated straight as 'the little death.' May this new moon bring you such, ahem, delighted endings.

8. Reveal economic abundance.

Scorpio rules our larger, swelling sum material resources (commissions, aristocracies, incentives, inheritances) in addition to the loan we share with others. How finest to shake that moneymaker during the brand-new moon as well as sow the seeds of success? Not by jumping in the daily grind, playing a ruthless video game of shark-eat-shark. That would certainly be the reduced power of Scorpio in activity ... which always comes 'rounded to attack us in the ass in the end.

Instead, we ought to fly like the eagle-- the secondary icon representing Scorpio. Manifesting wealth from a visionary place is as a lot a matter of confidence as it is skill. We could enroll in workshops as well as courses till the cows get home, however if we don't believe that we actually deserve this loan, it will stream out of our lives like water via a filter. In her publication The Law of Divine Compensation, miracle-maven Marianne Williamson (a Cancer) schools us in shifting our state of mind so we can open up to the miracles as well as success the universe has to offer.

Simple mantras could be effective, also. Make a listing of the limiting thoughts you have concerning your sources ... for example, 'There's insufficient cash to go about.' When these limiting beliefs have actually been lit up, reframe them as positives, as in 'I am well dealt with by the globe as well as my enjoyed ones.' Tape that mantra to your mirror and repeat each morning. Soon enough, this credo will certainly become extra than a platitude ... it will certainly be the way you watch the world.

9. Revenge is a meal finest acted as success.

The mention of Scorpio sends out shivers down some people's spinal columns, however that's because they just know component of the tale. Scorpio in fact has 3 stages, or energetic resonances. The most affordable is the ground-dwelling Scorpion, the conveniently endangered animal with the dangerous, malevolent sting. Above that is the rising eagle, the wizened Scorpio who's learned his life's lessons and also keenly observes whatever with laser understanding. The greatest indication is the Phoenix az, the mythological bird that rises from the ashes of devastation to create new life.

At the Scorpio new moon, we could pick to access any type of one of these energies-- consisting of getting back at. If you need to stir a wish for payback, do so proactively. Keep in mind the adage that success is the very best revenge. Win the fight AND the battle by making your personal life incredible rather compared to taking someone else's happiness down.

[poltondrum90-blog]

Top 50 Cover Songs from Movies

Say Anythinghas In Your Eyes,Goodfellashas Layla,Apocalypse Nowhas The End, andFight Clubhas Where Is My Mind. These are established truths. But a cover song in a movie is different. It can actually elevate the drama - ascribing meaning and sentiment to the music being played. All of a sudden this song that we're pretty sure we've heard before is chewing the scenery and the actors fade into the background.

All too often, the cover song is tailor-made for the movie itself. If you recall the '90s, countless covers were contributed to movies just to fulfill some bureaucratic record contract quota, which is why you saw all kind of questionablepunk,ska,andnu metalcovers padding out these soundtracks and bands' setlists. Ahead, you'll find songs that (mostly) go beyond contractual obligations and, with the movie, help to carve out a nice little niche for each other in the pop culture canon.

Keep in mind that there are essentially three kinds of cover songs in this list: songs the movie desperately needed, songs the movie helped make, and songs that transcended the movie altogether. For instance, Hole song might be the only redeemable part of a film, an Eagles song made into a rumba might define scene, and a Neil Diamond cover might just become the quintessential version of the song. So, grab your headphones, heat up some popcorn, and relish these 50 covers.

__________________________________________________________

50. The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead

Dumb and Dumber (1994)

Performed By: Crash Test Dummies

Originally By: XTC

Peter Pumpkinhead came to town/ Spreading wisdom and cash around, or so the story tells us. Fans of classic Farrelly Brothers comedy Dumb and Dumber know that dimwitted Harry Dunne and Lloyd Christmas also came to Aspen dropping Benjamins. As far as wisdom, eh, they'll have to write you an IOU. However, one thing we do know for sure is the filmmakers were wise to invite the cover-friendly Crash Test Dummies along for arguably the stupidest road trip in film history. They chop a verse from XTC's original hit from two years prior, but keep the song's ironic spirit intact. Most memorably, backup Dummies vocalist Ellen Reid sings lead with Brad Roberts' three-testicle baritone surfacing on choruses - and absolutely smashes it. There was such hope for the single that Jeff Daniels even reprised his role as Harry in the music video, which relates Peter's story. Whether it's XTC or CTD, it's fair to say that we like this song a lot. Matt Melis

__________________________________________________________

49. Desolation Row

Watchmen (2009)

Performed By: My Chemical Romance

Originally By: Bob Dylan

In a film full of musical choices both pitch-perfect (The Times They Are A Changin' over the world-setting prologue) and highly suspect (slow humping to Leonard Cohen!), My Chemical Romance's cover of another Dylan classic sits somewhere squarely between the two. Yet for whatever you might have to say about Zach Snyder's interpretation of the medium-defining graphic novel, it's hard to say that the furious opening riffs of this modern update aren't immensely satisfying over the final image of Rorschach's journal, waiting to destroy the false new social order that the titular group of heroes chose to leave in their wake. Dominick Suzanne-Mayer

__________________________________________________________

48. Mustang Sally

The Commitments (1991)

Performed By: The Commitments

Originally By: Mack Rice

Before there was Sing Street, there was The Commitments. Back in 1991, Alan Parker's Irish-British-Americanmusicalcomedy was one of the hippest movies around. For nearly two hours, you could escape overseas and hang out with larger-than-life characters like Deco Cuffe, Outspan Foster, or Jimmy Rabbitte as they got their shit together to create great music. They were a total mess, but that's what made their story so intriguing. They were a bunch of local losers trying their darnedest to be, as Rabbitte later says, the hardest-workin' band in the world. That try fuels their Robert Palmer-esque cover of Mustang Sally, a bluesy culmination of all their sweat, energy, and emotion, the likes of which are led by Andrew Strong's Kentucky bourbon-glazed vocals and Glen Hansard's silver licks. Ah, who are we kidding, this movie's still hip as hell.Michael Roffman

_________________________________________________________________________

47. Any Major Dude Will Tell You

Me, Myself, & Irene (2000)

Performed By: Wilco

Originally By:Steely Dan

Packed with '90s radio mainstays from Third Eye Blind to Hootie & The Blowfish the soundtrack to Me, Myself & Irene seems no different from any other early Farrelly Brothers movie. But like the film itself, there's a disarming pathos beneath the surface, mainly in the form of eightcount 'em, eightSteely Dan covers. Unsurprisingly, Wilco best pulls off the Dan's sugar-coated subversiveness with their take on Any Major Dude Will Tell You, most likely due to their own experience with burying weird-ass lyrics beneath laid back arrangements. The flirting organs of Leroy Bach and the late Jay Bennett allow lines like Have you ever seen a squonk's tears? to go down like honey. It's a lawnchair gem that would fit in on any of the band's last three albums. Dan Caffrey

__________________________________________________________

46. Sweet Child o' Mine

Big Daddy(1999)

Performed By: Sheryl Crow

Originally By: Guns N' Roses

Big Daddy is hardly a movie. Have you watched it recently? The whole thing plays out like an extended music video; or rather, a string of vignettes taped together by popular FM hits from that era and the years prior. It's a direct bi-product of the TRL Generation, and there isn't a single frame of the film that suggests it's anywhere but 1999. All things considered, there are a few gems on the soundtrack - from Garbage's When I Grow Up to Big Audio Dynamite's Rush - but the most memorable takeaway is Sheryl Crow's inspired cover of Guns N' Roses' Sweet Child o' Mine. Gone is any trace of the song ever being a hard rock anthem and in its place is a sunny country ballad that fits snugly in Crow's oeuvre. Today, she sings it better than Axl Rose does and we're okay with that.Michael Roffman

_________________________________________________________________________

45. Did You Ever See A Dream Walking

Lady in White (1988)

Performed By: Bing Crosby

Originally By:Art Jarret

Many scary movies associate their ghost or murderer with a popular song. A Stir Of Echoes had Paint It Black, Halloween II used Mr. Sandman, and you can guess what tune popped up in Jeepers Creepers. But the most unnerving instance of musical terror belongs to Lady In White, a little-seen, coming-of-age/horror tale starring an adolescent Lukas Haas. I won't spoil exactly how the song comes into play here, but opting for Bing Crosby's take of Did You Ever See A Dream Walking? over Art Jarrett's initial version was a smart move on the filmmaker's part. Whereas Jarrett's rendition seems like the logical choice with its tinny, melancholy tone, Uncle Bing's fireside baritone is downright cheery, providing eerie juxtaposition to the events onscreen. Dan Caffrey

__________________________________________________________

44. Easy

Baby Driver (2017)

Performed By: Sky Ferreira

Originally By: The Commodores

For all of the killer tracks on display throughout Edgar Wright's exercise in kickass songs and flawless action choreography, it's one of the sweetest songs that also ends up mattering most. Baby might have a lot of mixes, but it's the golden-edged tape with Mom scrawled on the site that he'd put his life in danger to recover: a lilting take on Easy by his deceased mother (ahem, Sky Ferreira). Not everything goes the way Baby would hope by film's end, but through it all, he's still easy like Sunday morning. Dominick Suzanne-Mayer

__________________________________________________________

43. Such Great Heights

Garden State (2004)

Performed By: Iron & Wine

Originally By:The Postal Service

Thealready-precious Such Great Heights is made rice-paper fragile by Sam Beam for the one soundtrack that had youths everywhere confusing privilegeddisaffection with clinical depression. Nevertheless, the whisper of Beam on the wind turns a bubbly digi-love song into an intimate ballad. This isn't the one that will change your life, but it's now the marquee song for visiting your childhood home, staring at the artifacts of your past, and thinking about how it all used to be so goddamn simple. Jeremy D. Larson

__________________________________________________________

42. Gold Dust Woman

The Crow: City of Angels (1996)

Performed By: Hole

Originally By: Fleetwood Mac

Look, there never should have been a sequel to The Crow. But, you can't argue that City of Angels director Tim Pope didn't at least try to do something different with James O'Barr's gothic graphic novel. His grimy 1996 sequel turns Los Angeles into a bone-dry, urine-colored shithole, a far cry from the stormy, slippery Detroit that Alex Proyas conceived of two years prior. Still, the similarities were obvious, especially the sequel's attempt to capture the magic of its predecessor's soundtrack, and to its credit, the film comes dangerously close. PJ Harvey, Iggy Pop, Deftones, White Zombie, Bush, and Filter all contribute admirable tracks, though the real standout was Hole's cover of Fleetwood Mac's Gold Dust Woman. Coming off of Live Through This, Courtney Love brings her fuck you attitude front and center, turning the classic rock hit into a grunge-y stomper. Purists be damned, but it's exactly the type of song you want to hear if you're avenging the death of your son on All Saints' Day. Michael Roffman

_________________________________________________________________________

41. Degenerated

Airheads (1994)

Performed By: The Lone Rangers

Originally By: Reagan Youth

Sometimes a song makes a movie. And sometimes a songis the movie. Just imagine an Airheads where Chazz, Rex, and Pip spin their Long Rangers demo on air for all the guppies listening to Ian the Shark and it actually is just Pip farting on a snare drum. Even Milo would have to agree the three (not to mention the movie) would each look like half a butt puppet (so, um, one and a half butt puppets). Luckily, the film's creative team opted to re-record Degenerated, an early '80s punk song by hardcore band Reagan Youth. No, that's White Zombie, not Pip and Rex, backing Brendan Fraser on vocals, but the results are some first-class mid-'90s powerslop (not that we like to label things) that could pass as a legit demo and, more importantly, get heads banging. While the song turned out well for both Airheads and The Lone Rangers, you gotta wonder if Kayla will ever catch on that Chazz totally didn't write this for her. Matt Melis

_________________________________________________________________________

[kchatjjigae]

When I heard that Miyavi was coming to town, I was all…well that’s nice. I remember Cherry Cordial and the Mystical Being of Unicorns have a big heart-on for him and he was on heavy rotation on my first KCon/Cherry Cordial visit. I think at one time I may have had some of his music on his phone but I didn’t really connect with it enough to keep it there. However, when it was suggested to me that I should go I was ‘eh’. When I found out the tickets were only twenty-five bucks? My tune turned to ‘heck yeah, I’ll go!’

Turns out though, it wasn’t just Miyavi who was playing. The whole concert was a tour called Asia on Tour, get this, Kiha and the Faces were going! That turned my heck yeah, into something even more excited. Then, of course, I had to admit, though Korean I liked Kiha and the Faces for the exact same reason I liked Miyavi — Cherry Cordial liked them.

There was also a third band playing named Slot Machine however since I didn’t know anything about them and didn’t care enough for the entire concert in general, I didn’t actually do any research on them in advance. That sounds terrible. I did care for the concert. It just wasn’t something I was excited with a bullet for….at least until someone kept sending me hot AF Miyavi gifs (seriously, how is someone allowed to be that sexy??) I sent one to Leila and she turned it into a Khottie of the Week. Then? Then I was excited.

Turns out I’m such a perv.

The night of the concert I met up with my work friend Oana, she is a HUGE Miyavi fan so when I brought it up she was all like, fudge yeah I’m coming.

The venue was a place called Irving Plaza which turns out is teenie tiny. Ahem. I believe the preferred term is intimate. Thinking back on it, I think it was about the same size as the venue where B1A4 performed earlier this year. They were late letting us in, they were late starting the show, the whole thing went laaaate. However. We got fairly close to the stage. I was a little concerned about being obvious with my camera as the security guard who waved me in said they might make me check it, which I didn’t want as I hate not being able to bring my camera places AND coat check was $4.50.

As it took a while for the concert to start, we met up with a friend in the crowd of Oanas’s who told us the second band was a Thai band he liked. Okay. Prepping for second band complete.

The first band to perform was Kiha and the Faces. Let me tell you this, Kiha? Flipping adorable. He knows how to play with the crowd, and totally appears to not take himself too seriously. When I heard that he was dating IU a while back I just didn’t understand, but after seeing him? I totally get it. Though they have since broken up, I totally ship them together and hope those crazy kids and work it out and be together.

While their music wasn’t my cup of tea, his personality and crowd interaction made the entire thing a lot of fun. My favorite part of the concert was when they covered at Talking Heads song.

  I love that song and I love that cover of it. From the sounds of the crowds, I wasn’t the only one who was having a good time. Even Oana, who didn’t really have any interest in it, came out of there liking him and even liking their music.

Unfortunately, it was time for them to leave and the second band to come on stage. But not until Kiha played around with the mike stand, carrying it around like he was one of the seven dwarves off to work the mines, there was also an odd attempt at crowd surfing which was ill-advised and from the looks of the security guard who ran up to the stage, unappreciated by them.

Goodbye Kiha, you are too adorable — we’ll always have the Talking Heads.

Next up, Slot Machine.

Here is where I’ll have to admit? I was TOTALLY not into this band. Like really, really not into this band. Like so not into this band I was texting my friends while wishing I had enough battery on my phone to be able to read my fanfiction. (Okay. I maybe at one point I said damn the battery I’m reading!) I didn’t like their music, I didn’t like their act, I didn’t like them.

I feel terrible for saying that.

They only way I can describe them is as an 80’s hair band. Or they got their schtick from an 80’s hair band. There was one point, when at the last song the lead singer came back onstage with this weird visor over his face that me and the girl next to me both laughed inappropriately. What the? However. I had one of the BEST moments while watching these guys! Why?

There I was, discreetly scrolling through my phone (because I am not a monster) and all of a sudden, familiar notes began to play. Notes that I was obsessed with for what seemed like an entire year. My head perked up, my jaw dropped and I scrambled to hit the record on my phone because I KNEW all of my friends would murder me if I didn’t document this astounding moment.

THEY SING THE LOVESICK THEME SONG!

GAAAHHHHHHHH! My mind blew. I was so excited I’m fairly certain I was grinning like a stupid idiot. But I didn’t care. It was Lovesick guys, Love. Sick.

Night? Even if Miyavi forgot to come out on stage my night was totally made. By this band that I literally rolled my eyes at. I’d apologize guys but then the visor thing happened and your guitarist licked his guitar strings and all my good will slipped away.

Eventually, they were off the stage, which meant one thing and one thing only.

Miyavi. 

The man and the guitar. 

Is there another more powerful word for guitar? 

Something that is infinitely sexier? Whatever that word is that was what was on stage with Miyavi that night.

Okay, let’s get this out of the way. This man is sexy AF.

And he totally knows it. Like for real totally knows it. 

But here’s the thing, Miyavi is crazy talented. He sings some. I’m pretty sure I remember that. But what I remember the most is his amazing guitar skills. What he could do with that instrument while strutting around the stage and pose, pose, posing was pretty amazing. 

He has this stage presence which overtakes the whole room. He knows just how to pose, just how to preen, to act while performing to capture the audience’s attention, egging on the crowd’s enthusiasm for him. It was pretty astounding to watch. I think it comes from his background in the Visual K (I think that’s what it’s called, but it could be Visual J? Would that make sense? His JPop roots.) style that taught him this. 

While again, his music wasn’t really for me, that night it didn’t matter. His presence was enough to win over the whole crowd for the night. I’d go and see him again in a heartbeat. Heck, I’d pay double to see him. Triple. (Thank goodness those tickets were only $25.) If he comes to perform anywhere remotely around you, I suggest you do the same.

  Here’s a gallery of my photos taken that night.

  Asia On Tour: Or How I’m Currently Pregnant With Miyavi’s Musical Baby When I heard that Miyavi was coming to town, I was all...well that's nice. I remember Cherry Cordial and the Mystical Being of Unicorns have a big heart-on for him and he was on heavy rotation on my first KCon/Cherry Cordial visit.