#and fate decided i don't get my bike

[rainy-wallflower]

My bike has been out of commision since I got to college. First someone locked my bike to theirs, then my innertube got a rip, and I had no way to replace it for awhile. So I bought a new innertube today! I decided to learn how to replace it, and turns out, it's actually kind of easy and fun! Hooray!! Until I pump up my tire and I find out the BRAND FUCKING NEW INNERTUBE I BOUGHT, COMES WITH A HOLE RIGHT OFF THE BAT

[luvrodite]

ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE

GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S) [3.8k]

in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, prevention of pulling out.

ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!

<< kinktober masterlist | week 2 >>

It goes like this:

On a monday evening, Pamela fucking Isley decides to take her quarrel with Gotham's newest weapons company – God, could they fucking give it a break? B had only busted the last one a few weeks ago before they'd brought the city down on everyone – to new heights.

Jason's sitting in traffic with a bag of groceries slung around the handle of his bike when he gets the call. He's eager to beat you home, ready to make you dinner and heavily intent on wining and dining you after a long weekend of missing each other.

His fingers tap against his thighs impatiently, impatience sitting beneath his skin like an itch. Spikes of activity during the week had meant his plans for Friday night – dinner and a deserved night off – had been pushed to the backburner. He'd returned home in the early stillness of dawn, unable to get more than a couple of hours with you before your phone had rung, a friend's emergency pulling you out of bed with an apologetic grimace and a promise to reschedule your date night.

The headset in his ear notifies him of an incoming call, the syllables of your name dulled by the clinical, robotic voice of his phone's intelligence system. His mouth curves up into a smile beneath his helmet.

"Hi, baby," he answers immediately. "I'm on my way home, you need anything? I just left the store but I can go back–"

You cut him off in a tight voice. Later, he'll be ashamed that the first thing that comes to mind is, not another fucking postponement. Now, his brows furrow at your tone, stomach dipping uncertainly when it becomes clear that this is something more serious.

Your voice wobbles, high-pitched and tearful. At the same time, the dash on his bike begins to flash in rapid succession, the paging system he'd installed for the bats to communicate with him glaring back at him, blood red.

ORACLE: CHEMICAL LEAK DOWNTOWN. BATS + R.ROBIN EN ROUTE. ALL UNITS STANDBY.

His dread plummets and for a moment his throat closes over. You're speaking to him but he struggles to make it out through the ringing in his ears.

"Jason, I'm – I'm home but I don't – I don't know what to do."

He bites back a curse and tries to swallow the lump in his throat, grappling for words of comfort.

"It's okay," he soothes, straining to keep his voice level. "Listen, sweetheart, can you go lock the door for me? I'm – shit – I'll be home soon, alright? It'll be okay. We'll fix it."

He doesn't give himself time to linger on the call after you confirm you've locked it, barking out a command to dial Oracle that his system fails to pick up twice, only registering after he steadies himself.

She picks up on the third ring. It irritates him how unfazed she sounds when he explains the situation to her. He hears the click of her keyboard in the background, the hum of her monitors. Each passing second as she patches through to Nightwing is agony and the slow crawl of traffic does little to help.

His leg has begun to jostle the bike with the weight of its shaking when she returns to their call.

"You're not going to like this," she says and he feels the bile rising in his throat.

"What." He grits it out through his teeth, unable to manage much more than that. He hears Oracle sigh.

"Looks like an aphrodisiac," she says clinically. "Her plan was to get them caught compromised enough to lose credit publicly."

"Oracle." She hears his growl for what it is – Tell me whether or not it's over.

"It's non-lethal," she affirms and he sighs harshly. The tightness in his chest loosens ever so slightly as she talks. "Ivy let it off near city hall because most of the shareholders were scheduled to hold a meeting – that's where your girl works, right? Alf's working on an antidote but she should be relatively fine until it's ready. Just – keep an eye on her."

Tim joins the line then and Jason startles at the sound of his voice in his ear.

"I don't know what the fuck she wanted to achieve," the boy grumbles. He's a little out of breath and in any other situation, Jason would have something to say about that. Tonight, he's not in the mood for jokes.

"Red," he barks out. The kid makes a distracted noise, and he can hear the sounds of a scuffle on the other end. "You tell Ivy if anything happens to my girl, I'll make sure she's next."

He doesn't wait to hear what's sure to be a non-committal answer at best, kicking off and veering between the lined up vehicles. There's an outroar from the drivers around him, laying on their car horns. Someone pokes their head out of their window to scream at him.

He hears none of it, the blood rushing in his ears keeping him single-minded.

This string that twines him to you isn't new. It wears signs of age, shows the years in the way his fingers reach for yours in the early moments of his day, the turn of your eyes to his in any room. He's seen a few summers with you at his side but the fear –

Blood, coagulating, the cold brush of death, splintered wood beneath nails and a haunting smile

– the fear never stagnates.

A bitter, resigned shard of him breathes out as he speeds through the streets. A veritable sword over his crown, this almost seems expected. Loathing colours the skyline and he, the fool, to think he could hold this one, precious, beloved thing unscathed.

He forgoes the groceries in his haste, leaving the bags in his haste to throw himself up the stairs and out of the parking garage. Pulse thundering in his ears, sweat coating his palms, he scrabbles with the key to your shared apartment.

The door flies open and a hand is grabbing him by the front of his shirt before he can slot it through the lock.

You, wild-eyed and frantic, pull him inside with a bitten off sob.

"Shh, shh, I'm here, come here."

He kicks the door shut, reaching behind him to flip the locks with one hand. The other curls you protectively to his chest, fingers splaying over your back. The sight of you calms him considerably and he chokes out a stuttered breath, the lump in his throat dissolving to give way for a flood of relief.

You're burning in his arms, the thin undershirt you've got on soaked through with sweat, face glowing with perspiration. Eyebrows knitted, you cling to him tighter and he finds himself making noises of comfort.

"Jason, I –"

"Shh. I know, honey, I know," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are tearful, salt spilling over lashes and rolling down your cheeks. "Come on, let's get you to lie down."

"No," you whine, pitching miserably as he shuffles the both of you towards your bedroom, face creasing with every movement. "Hurts."

"I know," he whispers, hating the way his voice cracks. His eyes burn painfully. "'ll get you a towel, alright?"

You're deposited on the bed and he makes a turn for the bathroom, wetting a cloth. When he enters the bedroom again you've pushed yourself up, kneeling on the bed. You've shed the pants you'd worn earlier, left now in only and undershirt and your underwear. His name falls from your lips pitifully and he steps forward, lips turning down into a commiserating frown.

You shy away from the cloth when he presses it against your forehead, letting out a hiss as it makes contact with your burning skin. He brings a hand to the nape of your neck and you seem to like that much better, sighing under his touch. Jason takes advantage of this to keep you in place, mopping the sweat off your face and neck, trying his best not to give into your dissatisfied squirming.

"I know, I'm an asshole," he mutters, when you cry out his name, displeasure making itself clear on your face. "Get better so you can yell at me for it, alright?"

"Don't wanna – yell at you," you mumble, wetting your lips as they part.

He clocks the dilation of your pupils a little too late and shakes his head adamantly, trying to draw back but you've got a hold of his shirt, pulling him forward. He catches himself with a hand agains the headboard, a knee pressing into the mattress beneath him.

You stare up at him, mouth turning down into a pained grimace.

"C'mon honey," he mutters, pleading, feeling his face flood with warmth. "Don't do this to me. Be good, you'll be alright, okay? Any minute they're gonna call and tell me Alf's got an antidote ready – shit, maybe we should just drive you there now -"

"No," you sob, face crumpling under the weight of your tears again, pushing up on your knees to fling your arms around his shoulders. The effort of the movement makes you stutter out a gasp and he's forced to band an arm around your waist to steady the both of you.

Your tears wet the skin of his neck, your body pressed flush against his. He becomes aware, regrettably, of the skin beneath his fingers, your undershirt having ridden up to expose the softness of your lower back.

"Please," you hiccup into his shoulder. "Please, Jason – Please."

He'll have to ask Oracle later if second-hand exposure to the toxin is supposed to have an effect on him. At the touch of your chest to his, he feels himself warm all over, mouth drying when you begin to keen, arching up into his touch in an effort to get him to do something.

"Fuck," he curses. "Fuck. Alright, just – come here."

He kicks his shoes off, the sneakers clattering against the floor, and crawls onto the bed properly. Sat up against the headboard, he meets your baleful gaze with a raised brow and reaches for you.

Jason shakes his head when you go to straddle his lap, maneuvering you against his chest until your back rests against it. You let out a whimper, displeased, but he shakes his head.

"This is all you're getting, alright? Just – it'll tide you over until they call."

He spreads your legs until they hang over his own, your thighs bracketing his and leaving you open. His blood thunders in his ears, hand trembling as he reaches it up to your mouth, fingers prodding at the soft plush of your lips.

Your tongue laves at his digits, a muffled moan trapped in the recesses of your throat. One of your hands curls around his wrist, the other perching against his thigh, nails curling against the fabric of his jeans. He can feel you shift against him, hips canting ever so slightly over his own.

Awful, wretched, lecherous, he stiffens under the movement, jeans tightening. His free hand wraps around you hip with the intent of pinning you in place and stopping you. Somehow, he finds himself guiding you back and forth instead.

You tip your head back against his shoulder, baring the soft line of your throat as you drool around his fingers. He can feel the wetness pooling around his knuckles, the softness of your ass against him, separated only by a few layers. If he cranes his neck, he'll probably find your panties sticky with your need. The thought alone makes his eyes flutter.

The room is blanketed in muffled whimpers, the whispers of rustling sheets and his shaky breaths. You've quietened down some since he'd gotten his fingers in your mouth, but the heat seems to have returned with a vengeance when you begin to fuss in his lap again. Your fingers dig into his thigh and you whine, tugging at his wrist in an effort to push his hand where you need it most.

He hushes you with a squeeze to your hip and tips your face to meet his. Bleary eyed, silvery tracks smattered across your cheeks, you're struggling to hold on. He lowers his mouth to yours, a chaste kiss that deepens when you part your lips to lick into his mouth.

"Jason, come on."

"No, don't take it off," he whispers when your hands make to tug your underwear off. You whine and he hushes you again, "Shh, I'm going to take care of you, be patient for me, alright?"

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and watches you shudder at the first swipe. Similarly affected, he feels himself twitch when his fingers make contact with the soft slickness of your flesh, gliding against silken folds.

"Oh," you sigh, sagging slightly into him.

"There you go." He presses a kiss to your sweaty temple, trying to pretend this is just another night together and he's being a loving boyfriend, that you're not delirious with want just because of the toxin running through your bloodstream. "That's my girl."

He presses gentle circles against you, closing his eyes and ghosting his mouth over the curve of your shoulder. The smell of sex is thick in the air, that heady musk and sweat that he could drown in. Your breaths come in pants now as he works you open gently, thumb rolling over your centre.

"Just like that," he rumbles, straining to keep his head on straight. It's difficult, when you arch against him, his name spilling from your lips in adoration coloured mewls. Your arm raises, curling behind you to embrace his neck.

It doesn't take you very long to come, pent up and sensitive – he discovers this when his hand grazes over your chest to stroke your face and you keen so loud he fears he'll come in his pants at the sound, your mouth, bitten raw, dropping open as you moan. A few strokes against your centre and you come apart in his arms, hard. The tremors wrack your body long after the fact, your core pulsing around his fingers.

He, ever the fool, expects this to sate your hunger.

Whatever Ivy's put in her newest concoction is potent. You gather your breath quick enough and it becomes apparent that just the one isn't nearly enough. He's pushed back against the headboard, stunned into silence as you clamber onto his thigh, pawing at him like you can't get close enough.

You struggle with the fabric of his shirt before giving up and any questions he has sputter off into silence when you begin to rock back and forth on him. The denim of his jeans is unforgiving against the thin, sodden material of your underwear, providing a harsh friction that you lose yourself to. He watches, his heart racing, you taking your pleasure for yourself.

It isn't as though you've never done this in front of him – he remembers, blurry, the aftermath of a dinner date that had seen you riding his thigh on the couch, still in your dress.

But this… This feels different.

There's an urgency to this, a franticness running beneath your skin that pushes your hips down harder, more unforgiving. Your face screws up, salt misting your cheeks and neck.

For a moment, Jason almost feels as though he's the one that's been hit. You take on a blurry quality, smudged around the edges like wet paint, wanton, hazy. A gauzy film over his eyes, he blinks, and blinks.

When you come once more, it shatters and he's aware of the stain that's bled into the dark denim on his thigh, a stickiness that's smeared between your thighs. Your panties are ruined and he gulps when he drags his gaze up from between your legs to your face.

Quiet, hungry, you're already staring at him. Your chest heaves with exertion but you remain still otherwise, lips parting in invitation, eyes half-lidded.

"Baby–"

"You said you'd take care of me," you intone beseeching, voice affecting a trembling, delicate quality.

Fuck.

He's never been good at denying you much. Already, he feels the urge to take you into his arms and promise to make it better, but he forces his hand to stay, curling his fingers in the bedsheets.

You crawl forward, until your lips are ghosting over his, eyes swallowing his field of vision until all he can see are the stars in your irises. He feels the

"Jason, please, it still hurts," you whimper quietly, a wounded noise that carves him from the inside out, guilt and shame poisoning his every nerve. He's at war with himself, wanting to ease your pain – he feels responsible for it, in a way – and hesitating similarly. Is this right? Is it okay?

Before he can come up with an answer, you press your mouth to his.

The last of his inhibitions crumbles completely under the plush of your mouth.

He rolls the both of you over, relishing in the gasp you let out, the sight of you splayed against the mattress. He's quick to divest himself of his clothes, tugging his shirt off recklessly, not minding the sound of ripping fabric he vaguely registers hearing. The jeans go next, and his underwear in one, flung to some corner of the bedroom.

Your spit slick mouth curves up into a delighted, drunken smile when he crawls over you, body eclipsing yours with every intent of ravishing you.

Jason holds himself up with one hand, the other reaching to the bedside table and rummaging in the drawer for the box he keeps there. Only, he comes up short and dread dawns over him in a cold wave when he remembers –

He'd used the last of the condoms a few nights ago. It hadn't mattered in the last couple of days, the weekend too busy for the both of you to do much else but curl up next to each other, too exhausted to consider working up a sweat.

"Fuck," he whispers, shaking. "Fuck, baby, there aren't, um…"

Your eyes fill with tears at the unfinished sentence, a hiccuped sob stuttering out of your chest.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he tries to soothe you, a hand smoothing down your face. "I'll just – I'll run to the store, I'll be back before you know it."

"No, please, just–" Watery eyed and upset, you tug him closer as though fearing he'll take off. "I don't care, I don't, I just – I need you, Jason. Please."

He stares at you, heart thundering in his ears. "Fuck you without –"

"Need you now," you whimper, lips tugging down pitifully into a pout that cuts through his chest.

It isn't as though this is his first time fucking you raw –

Tipsy laughter, hushed whispers of it's fine, just once, we'll get the morning after pill.

– but still. This is different, another ballpark entirely.

You stare up at him, desperation in every crease and curve of your face, pleading with him. Too far gone to care, you beg him.

"I'll, um," he rasps out, throat dry, "I'll pull out."

You make some sort of noise that sounds like a vague affirmation, tugging him closer hastily. Poor, pretty girl. His chest aches at the sight of you, needy, looking to him to fix it.

"I'll fix it," he finds himself muttering, lining himself up with your entrance. You've similarly taken to murmuring under your breath, hands carding through his hair, devotion in your every touch.

"Need you so bad, please, please, baby."

The slick that smears against his head, the soft warmth of you, nearly makes his eyes roll back into his head. A drawn out whimper spills from your lips at the press of his hips, the first inches of him pushing into your tight heat.

You sink into the mattress as he notches himself further inside, mouth opening. You paint an obscene picture, your lips bitten raw, naked chest arched. He lowers his head to mouth at your nipples, teeth teasing at the sensitive points. You're warm, so warm beneath him – around him.

He's given only a moment to breathe before you push your hips up, impatient. Fucking yourself against him, your fingers dig into the muscle of his back for leverage, tucking him close enough to you that he brushes against your neck and tastes the salt on your skin.

Jason sets a harried pace, bucking forward against you. You begin to cry out again, every resounding slap of his skin against yours drawing out a moan that curls tight around him and presses down on his stomach. You exchange panted breaths between open mouthed kisses, tongues and teeth clashing messily, muffled pleas that beg for more, more, more.

Filthy, debauched, it doesn't take very long for you to approach your peak. Jason, lost in the wetness of your cunt, feels his own building and knows this is a dangerous game he's playing, toeing the line of recklessness.

"Close," he pants, feeling the tell-tale fluttering of you around him, your orgasm imminent. If he can just hold out until he's gotten you there –

Your legs wrap around him, hold so tight he's not able to do much more than rock against you in desperate, quick rolls of his hips.

"Inside," you warble. Your hands come to cradle his head, coaxing him down to kiss you, licking up into his mouth sweetly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. "Mmh, please, baby? Please? I – Jason – want it so bad, need you inside."

"Oh fuck," he gasps, voice hitching, breath stuttering. His face creases, overcome, and you grin, dazed, drunken, pulling him into another sloppy kiss. What's he to do?

You scream into his mouth at the same time that Jason comes. His vision whitens at the sensation of your pulsing heat, the unforgiving tightening that demands his orgasm. His fingers dig into the soft flesh at your hips, burying himself to the hilt and surrendering to your claim.

Warm and wet around him, the evidence of his debauchery coats the inside of your thighs and clings to the base of him. He's light-headed, a little winded, and it takes him a moment to gather his sensibilities. When he looks down, he finds you a boneless puddle beneath him, eyelids fluttering tiredly.

He should pull out. He knows he ought to – but he's broken so many rules, what's another? Jason gathers you in his arms and rolls over gently, tucking you against his chest, a hand skimming up and down the length of your spine comfortingly.

"Fuck," he whispers out into the air, and you murmur atop him. He glances down, meeting your bleary eyes. "Y'just had to go and get caught in that crossfire, huh?"

"N'my fault," you grumble, pressing your face back into his chest.

"Gonna give me a heart attack," he grumbles, dropping a kiss to your crown. Then, with a look over at the bedside table, he jostles you a bit. "Hey. Don't fall asleep. We still have to get you the antidote."

"Wake me when 's ready," is your answer, tone somehow managing a prissiness unexpected of someone who'd just been fucked to within an inch of their life, and he drops his head back into the pillows, incredulous.

This girl would be the death of him.

first kinktober 2024 fic let's go!! i genuinely didn't think i was going to be able to commit to kinktober this year (i'm still nervous about whether i'll be able to) because finals are literally just around the corner and i'm stressing. but hopefully you enjoyed the first installment to this year's kinktober and the coming ones don't disappoint, either!

[theteasetwrites]

Daddy's Home | Part 1

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 (Alexandria) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT (18+)—oral sex (male receiving), dominant-ish Daryl, doggystyle, so much dirty talk, like one tiny spank (just a little one), mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oh yeah and DADDY KINK, language ❧ Word Count: 4.3k

❧ Summary: When Daryl comes back home from a week away, he doesn't want to sleep. He just wants you.

❧ A/N: Ok so yes I know the title is ridiculous, but like... what else was I gonna call this oneshot ok? Anyway, here's some major daddy kink. Like a lot of daddy kink. Daryl is just daddy. Sorry but he is. I can't explain it. Actually, yes I can. He's a protector, a provider, a big softie. He's a daddy, and I don't even have daddy issues but just let me have this. Goodbye I am never showing my face here again. <;3 Also I simply cannot get over how hot he is in this gif holy mother of god.

The quiet was nice, late nights in Alexandria, gentle summer breeze prickling at your skin. It was nice to leave your bedroom window open through the night. Daryl hated it, always going on about how someone could climb the trellis outside your window and sneak in while you slept, but when he was gone, you’d indulge yourself in that one simple luxury.

When he told you that he was Alexandria’s newest recruiter, you knew you’d be in for some lonely nights ahead. Still, you also knew Daryl was the best man for the job—you’d seen him bring dozens of people to the prison, providing them shelter while expecting nothing in return, and then going out the next morning to do it all over again. That was when he wasn’t going out on his hunts to find food for everyone, often bringing home the biggest deer you’d ever seen, until he’d do it again next week, and bring home an even bigger one.

Yes, there was no doubt about it—Daryl knew what he was doing out there, but it didn’t stop you from worrying about him. Missing him. So while the quiet was, indeed, nice, you still could not get used to being alone, in this perfect little suburban townhouse, waiting. 

Your waiting became so monotonous, sitting up in your bed and reading another old Agatha Christie novel, that you decided, at length, to migrate downstairs, the living room. When Daryl would come home, you thought, you’d greet him right away. That was how much you were anticipating his arrival. 

One week was nothing, really, but it was the longest you’d been apart since knowing each other, and with the world the way it was, a lot could happen in seven days. A lot of bad, bad things. 

So you flicked on the lamp, snuggled yourself into a knitted blanket, and curled up on the sofa, book in hand as you let out a quiet huff. “Daryl…” you said to yourself, scanning your book to relocate the exact sentence where you left off. “Where are you, you big meatball.”

Your nervous jitters only worsened with the passing hour, your legs shaking involuntarily, your finger tapping on the edge of the book, your toes wiggling nonstop. All you needed was the sound of that bike, that big, stupid bike. That would ease your fretful heart. Well, what would really make you happy was seeing that man of yours, no doubt in need of a shower, but still, your man nonetheless. 

Speak of the Devil, as they say, and he doth appear.

It started out as just a distant hum, perking your ears and making your spine straighten in anticipation. Still frozen, you listened intently. A rumble, now, mechanical and getting louder with each second your heart began to beat faster. At one fateful moment, the roar of the makeshift machine was at its highest volume, and before you could even stand, a bright beam of white light shone through the blinds of the front window. 

All at once, the light and the rumble ceased, punctuated by a low huff, followed by an exasperated grunt. Heavy footsteps plodded along in a familiar pattern—you even recognized the sound of his no doubt mud-caked boots scraping against the edge of the steps leading to the front porch. You could only hope that this time, he’d take the extra precaution of removing his boots before he stepped over the threshold. 

There was a spring in your step, you wrapping the terry cloth fabric of your robe over your chest as you flitted towards the front door. Finally, you stood just a few feet back, your eyes transfixed on the shiny bronze doorknob. Inevitably, a wide grin made your cheeks swell until they almost ached, but the wait was worth it. 

When he came through the door, his head was hanging low, until he felt your presence. Lifting his gaze, he met your great big smile with a smaller one, though the movement of his body betrayed him. The door shut with a strong thud, just before he stepped forward to let his crossbow fall from his shoulder. With a soft grunt under his breath, he buried his nose in the warmth of your shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. 

For a good while, he stayed like that, only taking in the sensory relief you provided him—your faint scent of rose, your softness, your tender chuckle as your hands rubbed in vertical motions up and down his aching back. Despite the rigidity of his tired muscles, he melted into you, letting himself bask in the comfort you provided him. To hold him like this was nothing short of a ritual between you two, whenever you were apart for long enough to begin missing each other to the point of near grief. 

A man like Daryl—who’d been through so much as he had, who’d seen so much and had still so much room in his heart to give of himself to others—deserved to be held the way you held him. Few people in this world had a heart as big as him, though he did not show it in ways most people would recognize. He showed it in acts of service, in providing for people who could not provide for themselves, in the ones he loved safe. It was what you always adored about him: how he gave of himself, and expected nothing in return. 

“Hey, there, tough guy.” Daryl buried his face deeper into you, now snug in the crook of your neck, where he caught the scent of your perfume, applied much earlier in the day, yet still lingering sweetly. Though you adored how much he clung to you, you longed so much to see his face. Your hands grabbed a hold of either side of his head to lift his gaze to yours. 

As usual, his disheveled hair hung low over his forehead, obscuring one of your favorite features of his—his eyes. Between strips of tattered brown curtains, you could make out the blue-grey hue of his irises. Pushing them back, you smiled again at those deep-set pools of silvery cobalt blue. You always found their mystery to be intriguing. 

“How are you?” you asked, though you knew from the state of him that he must’ve been exhausted. He hadn’t even muttered a word, and yet the more prominent than usual bags under his eyes spoke for him. “You must be tired, hon. Let’s get you in bed.”

But as you turned towards the staircase, a firm grip pulled you back by the wrist, until you were in his arms now, laughing at his sudden burst of energy. Despite your amusement, he did not smile, only looked at you with a heavy, dark gaze, and a lick of his lips.

In your surprise, you hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were now wrapped around each wrist, so tight that you nearly feared he’d cut off your circulation. 

Something was wrong, had to have been. You’d never seen him so… intense. Of course, Daryl could often be intense, when he was angry especially, but this wasn’t that. Anger was something you could recognize in Daryl. He’d never directed it towards you, but you knew it, and this was something different. 

“Are… are you feeling okay, sweetie?”

Silence, just that gaze holding you hostage, and a heat rising from his body that you could’ve sworn caused a bead of sweat to form on your brow. 

Now he was scaring you. 

“Daryl?” 

Your voice tempted him further. If only you knew just how much he missed you, how much he needed you. A week was too long. A week without you, a week without your touch, a week without your sweet, dulcet voice. And oh, how that voice awoke in him a terrible burning, a conflagration of deadly proportions, a fire that could only be extinguished by the one he loved. 

Entranced by his stare, you hadn’t noticed that he had you pinned against the wall, his strong, heaving chest keeping you there. 

And when he pressed himself against you, you knew. It was obvious, the way he nearly thrusted into you. 

When you realized what he wanted, you felt a wave of relief wash over you: he needed you just as much as you had needed him the past week. From the night he left, you’d not stopped thinking of him, and when you’d turn in your bed to feel for him, and he wasn’t there, the ache for him only worsened. 

There was no way in Hell, though, you were going to initiate sex when he got home. You knew he’d be tired, and a good night’s rest was what he needed before you even thought of asking him to make love to you, but now, with that wild look in his eyes, that hungry snarl in his lip, that flare in his nostrils, that beating of his heart… 

“Oh,” you sighed, your teeth biting back your lower lip as your eyes trailed up and down his body. With your hands finally free, you ran them up his arms, letting them settle on the broad, firm shoulders you loved so much. 

For just a moment, he leaned forward, forehead and tip of his nose meeting yours. With his hardening cock beginning to dig between your thighs, and his vaguely tobacco tinged musk tickling your senses, you could only utter one word. 

A soft, nearly whimpering mewl: “Daddy.”

By the time he got you to the sofa, each of you were already panting, hands moving relentlessly as you both clawed for any part of each other’s body you could get your hands on. Your mouths worked tirelessly, tongues spinning sloppily around the other’s in your haste to finally have each other again. 

When you successfully removed his leather angel-winged vest, you worked on unbuttoning his black shirt, but his hands stopped you. 

“Need your mouth,” he said. 

Leaning back on the sofa with a low grunt, he began unbuckling his belt, while you slotted yourself between his legs, hands massaging his clothed thighs, thick and flexing against your palm. 

When his cock sprang out of its confines, you’d already stripped yourself of your underwear and your robe. In only a transparent silk nightgown, your hips swayed instinctively as you watched his hand begin to stroke himself, up and down the long, thick shaft you’d come to know and love so much. 

“Come ‘ere.” His hands reached out to grab either side of your head, bringing you down to his cock. Panting lips began to drool a bead of saliva down the side of his growing erection. Knowing what he wanted, of course, you took the reddened, swelling tip into your mouth, much to his immediate relief.

“Fuck.” As your mouth slid a little lower, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as his head fell back on the arm of the sofa, a soft breath of your name on his lips. 

Returning to watch you, he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail, tilting his head to get a better look at you, your eyes fluttering up to meet his gaze.

“Pretty angel.” Even just the utterance of that affectionate pet name made you feel an overwhelming need to touch yourself. With your free hand, you lifted your nightgown to slot your fingers between warm, velvety folds of aching flesh. “Ya look so good like this… Suckin’ on Daddy’s cock.”

It was somewhat of a tradition now, using that phrase, though only in the context of sex, in your most private, intimate moments. It was silly, you knew it, and he knew it, too, but you both found it excruciatingly sexy all the same. It was sacred in that you’d probably die of embarrassment if anyone else besides Daryl knew of your little… kink.

But neither of you could quite help it, you adoring his strong, protective nature, and him just finding it so alluringly sinful. Guilty pleasure type of thing, with emphasis on pleasure.

And besides, his dirty talk was sex all on its own. 

As your mouth took him in progressively deeper, your fingers moved faster, increasing the friction against your sensitive spot, then slowly dipping down into the embrace of your entrance. 

Not only could he admire your mouth, and your sweet soft moans, but he could watch your fingers enter you, your hand shaking as you penetrated yourself to match the rhythm you knew he liked when he had his cock in you.

“Love when you fuck yourself like that.” He only wished he was the one doing it. “You thinkin’ of me?”

Well, it was hard not to think of him, with his cock in your mouth. 

Taking the opportunity to catch your breath, you answered him. “Yes, Daddy.”

His hands pulled you back down onto his cock, your lips forced open by his tip. “Just don’t make yourself come,” he said. “That’s for me.”

Yes, Daddy. 

Sliding over your tongue, his cock dug deeper, towards the back of your mouth. Going down on him was always a bit of a challenge, given just how big he was, but the weight of him inside you, wherever that may be, was far more rewarding. And when you got to feel that little twitch, his cock moving all on its own as it begged for release… It only made you suck harder, sliding your mouth up and down, taking him in deeper until you were nearly gagging. 

But he liked that, the sound of you struggling just a little to take all of him. Daryl was a sensitive man, yes, but he was still a man—proud of his big cock, even if he was insecure in most other areas. At least he was big, and at least he knew how to use it. 

With his hand on the back of your head, firm, but still gentle enough to let you up if you needed it, he pushed you down just a bit more, hearing your gag become more guttural, more strangled. It did not hurt, though. It only turned you on, your fingers curling inside you to tickle that special spot, and your other hand fondling his balls, tightly drawn to the underside of the base of his cock. 

For several moments, the only sounds coming from either of you were your strained groans, his slipping from between his agape lips, yours muffled by his length filling your entire mouth. Between those sounds of pleasure were the sloppy squelches of your lips soaking him with your saliva. You were always so messy when you went down on him, but how could you not be? His cock provided you no room to lick up your drool, stuffing you until your spit had nowhere else to go but down his veiny, hard length.

Of course, he’d have to tease you about it, how sloppy you were. “Messy girl,” he said, his hand gripping your hair to pull back your bangs. You fluttered your eyes open to meet his, and you were greeted by his crooked smile, with just a sliver of those shiny teeth showing. “Gettin’ Daddy all wet, huh? Nice and wet so I can fuck you good.”

Yes, Daddy.

Eyes rolling back slightly, he bucked his hips up with a jolt, your sucking beginning to tip him over the edge. Just in time, too, for your hand was getting tired of rubbing, and you needed him to finish you off.

“F-fuck, angel. Imma need ya to get that pussy ready for me.”

Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. After all, you were his good girl. Always his good girl. You couldn’t think of a time you’d ever been a bad girl for him. Daddy deserved his good girl.

Yes, you were a good girl, but you could still be… needy.

“Oh, Daddy.” Now straddling his waist, your fingers went straight for the first button on his shirt. “Want you.” He loved when you whined, just a little, and when you were so needy for him that you couldn’t quite make out a completely proper sentence. “Want your shirt off.”

He let you undo just a few buttons, exposing the hairs on his chest that drove you crazy, made you want to feel those wiry hairs between your pursed lips as you trailed your kisses all over his broad chest, made so strong and big by all the manual labor he did, and that heavy crossbow he always used. 

That very same strength pulled at your wrists, then raised you up only to lay you down, sprawled out on the other side of the couch. Now he hovered over you, the tip of his cock hanging down to be tickled by the fabric of your blush pink nightie. He always liked pink on you, matched the color of your cheeks when he talked so dirty to you, made you feel like a whore, but not in a disrespectful way. Never in a disrespectful way.

Besides, you knew you were more than that to him. You knew he loved you. Two years together, through some of the most abject pain and suffering imaginable, would do that. But in moments like this, it felt good to be just his personal whore, whom he happened to love very, very much.

Tenderness blossomed between your lips and his, where he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly. And yet, you still clawed at his shirt, your fingers begging for him to let you see his gorgeous body, after so long away from him.

“Shit,” he laughed into your mouth. Sitting up, he began to undo the rest of the buttons, then peeled off his shirt with his chest puffed up, clearly a bit cocky. When your hands shot up to grasp at his pecs, the faded ink of the tattoo above his left nipple having taunted you, he chuckled again.

“Daddy,” you laughed back, your voice a drawn out, dramaticized whine. “Come on.” 

Now you were testing him, and he held back the rest of his laughter to put on a stern, domineering face. “Hey, now. Be a good girl.”

He felt your thighs squeeze together underneath him, and your hips jolting upwards. He knew what you wanted, and he’d give it to you, but this position wasn’t quite right. 

With a breathy grunt, he grabbed you by your waist, flipping you over, then lifting your bottom until it was sticking out at just the right angle. Lifting your nightie, he licked his lips to watch you move your hips from side to side, as if to taunt him. 

“Cute little ass,” he practically cooed. Leaning over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, he nuzzled his nose against your pillowy cheek. All the while, you felt his hand slide between your now nearly dripping wet folds. Eyes closed softly, you hummed a soft whimper at the feeling. His hands were always different from yours, so much bigger, stronger, rougher. You’d never felt a touch quite like his, and part of it was because he touched you with such tenderness, even if he tried to manhandle you a little. He was still always gentle, somehow.

In the most honeyed, silky, yet scratchy, voice, he rasped in a whisper, “Did ya miss me, angel?” 

“Yes… Daddy, I missed you so, so much.”

“Mm, I missed you, too. So much.”

Finally, you felt his tip just barely graze your hole. Not only was he torturing you, he was torturing himself, but he loved it. He needed it, otherwise he was sure his peak of pleasure would go away just as fast as it would come. With you, in this moment, he needed to prolong the desire as much as he could. He could feel it coming soon, though, that tensing in his muscles, that tingling in the pit of his stomach, that twitching that made his cock seem to bounce against your folds on its own accord. 

As he slid further into you, you felt his lips find the back of your neck, where he left little kisses the more he sank into you. It felt so good to feel him again, that fullness. It was a feeling only he could give you, his unique way of moving, his cock fitting so perfectly inside you. 

Underneath your nightgown, his hands found your breasts. Tense, strong fingers curled like claws at the soft tissue. Even in his dreams, of which he had many while he was away, he could not recreate that texture—that pillowy soft flesh swelling against his fingers. And the inside of you, the warmth and tightness that hugged his cock and accepted him with each pass, in and out. 

Soon, he leaned back to watch your body envelope his, the shiny, milky coating of your arousal making it easier to slip in and out of you, his hips thrusting in ever increasing speed.

“Daddy…” 

God, he loved being called that. Much more than he should’ve. But, then again, he’d probably find you sexy even if you were calling him “dickhead.” He really didn’t mind, as long as you were calling him something. 

“Mm, angel… Daddy’s here now, sweetheart.” He delivered a harder, stronger thrust, pulling a loud, strangled moan out from deep inside of you. “That feel good?”

“Fuck, yes!” 

As if to praise you, he delivered just a small, weak slap to your bum. That was about as hard as he was willing to spank you, given how much he hated the idea of hurting you, but he knew you liked it, and he liked it, too, the clench of your body from the slap making him jolt forward. 

“Takin’ it good… Real good.”

With one hand still squeezing your breast, the other now drawing tight circles over your clit, he made your lips tremble and your muscles tighten as you began to approach the height of pleasure. You could feel it, just on the brink of release. And he felt it, too, which was why he pulled himself out of you, flipping you over again like a ragdoll. 

You were startled when he pulled you down by your ankles, until you were closer to him. He gave his fingers a good, long lick, then let them sink into you, where his cock had left you stretched wide open and dripping wet. 

Three fingers. Three thick, strong fingers, curling up inside you, making you writhe and groan as your hands shot up to grasp at his shoulders. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his neck bulge with the strain of trying to keep himself from coming, and it only aroused you more—those muscles flexing and throbbing and burning underneath hot, sweat-dripping skin, tanned by days on end out in the sun. 

What he needed so badly was his own release, after so long of working so hard out there, risking his life for the good of Alexandria. As his forearm and biceps flexed with every push of his fingers inside of you, his chest heaved harder and harder, while you reached between your legs to find his cock. With your hand pulling on his length, and your walls clenching around his fingers as your release reached a tipping point, you both would soon be giving each other much needed relief. 

“Daddy,” you sighed, tugging harder on his cock as frustration overtook you. The closer you got to orgasm, the more you couldn’t wait any longer. “Make me come… I wanna come.”

“Ah, angel… I’m gonna come, too.”

Just moments later, you tensed and gasped and writhed and moaned, rocking your hips upward as his fingers stayed inside you, squeezed by your contracting walls. “Oh, Daddy!”

He leaned forward to lay on top of you, his sturdy weight keeping you in place as you rode out your high, soaking his fingers with your arousal. The heat of your cheek seemed to burn his lips as he kissed you there, then rubbed his button nose in delicate circles to soothe you. “Yeah… Daddy’s got ya, sweetheart.”

With your hand still tugging on him, he gasped a heavy breath, spilling out over you right then and there, his hips thrusting into your hand in desperate, sloppy motions. The orgasm was so strong that he lost his composure for a moment, his head falling into your chest as he groaned your name, over and over and over again. 

And now he freed his hand, using it to rub up and down the sides of your torso, your skin like fine silk under his worn, calloused fingers. In his hair were your hands, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, until he lifted his head to offer you a gentle smile. 

“Mm, I’ll never get tired of that.”

You tilted your head with a wide grin. “I didn’t think you’d want to do it tonight. I thought you’d be exhausted.”

He breathed a low huff before rolling over onto his side. You did the same, letting him hold you with his chest pressed firmly to your back. There wasn’t much room on that tiny couch, but you made it work. After all, even if you were in bed upstairs, you’d probably still be this close to each other, clinging for dear life, never wanting to be separated again, though you knew someday you’d have to.

“I am,” he said. “Just… I dunno, needed you, s’all.” Observant as he was, he took notice of your shivering, and reached back to grab the knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He covered the both of you, then tucked his chin into your shoulder, where it seemed to fit perfectly. “Missed ya so much, could hardly stand bein’ without you.”

Even now, after you thought you’d be used to his sweet words, he still had a way of sending those butterflies aflutter. “Well, now you’re back home.”

That sounded so good to him—back home.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Part 2 (coming soon)

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Timeless - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Literally my first attempt at a fic in forever so bare with me, but I had this idea and I couldn't not do it. Also definitely inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift in a way so don't mind me.

pairing: Lt. Robert Floyd x reader

warnings/content: no warnings, extra cute Bob. mutual pining. lots of fluff. mild angst if you squint.

word count: 2.6k

The cool, crisp November air tickled the back of your neck as you walked down the street, orange, red and yellow leaves peppering the sidewalks, the smells of autumn air filling your nose. You frowned as you zipped your jacket up further to cover you better, the breeze sending a shiver down you. The streets were buzzing with people out and about to finish their preparations for Thanksgiving. It was still a week or so away, but, no one leaves anything to the last minute around here, especially not when it comes to homemade pies and cornbread dressing. The smell of fresh brewing coffee swirled around you as you made your way closer to your favourite local bake shop, enveloping your senses as you walked. You stopped as something - someone caught your eye. You froze in your steps as you peered in the window of the bakery, and you almost gasped in surprise at who you saw standing in line to order. A tall man, with neatly styled dark blonde hair, wire framed glasses, and the most stunning blue eyes you’d ever seen - it had to be him.

Suddenly, he turned and saw you, a large smile on his face as he waved, as if he’d just seen his long lost best friend. In a way, he had. 

Robert Floyd had been your neighbour growing up, his house was two doors down from your parents - a pretty Victorian-Queen Anne style home that sat on the corner of the street. His mother had always kept her garden looking immaculate, like something out of a home and garden magazine. He was the youngest of three kids, with an older brother and older sister who were both outgoing and popular in school - Robert had always been shy and more reserved than his siblings. 

You moved in when you were 6, just getting ready to start the school year in a new town, terrified of your own shadow. The first thing you noticed when you’d moved in, was the Floyd house and its picturesque landscape. That, and the adorable boy around your own age who’d been playing out front, and waved shyly when he saw you through the back window of your parents’ car as you drove past. For the next 12 years, you and Robert Floyd, or Bobby as you’d always called him, had been best friends - practically inseparable friends, in fact. You did everything together possible. From bike rides to church on Sundays to trick-or-treating to sports teams, everything you could do together, you did. It was as though you couldn’t function as a child without Bobby by your side, and vice versa. 

That all changed when Bobby decided to enter the Navy when he turned 18. It was the first time you wouldn’t be going to school together, and the first time since you’d met that he couldn’t be by your side if you needed him. He was leaving you, and you couldn’t help but feel some resentment towards him for it. You’d wanted to tell him the day you graduated high school that you loved him, you’d wanted to beg him to stay or take you with him wherever he was heading, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something inside you had told you that it was futile - he’d always wanted to join the military, since the day you met him, and when you were 10 and he’d joined a Navy League Cadet Corps group, it was like fate had decided what he was going to do in life right then and there. You knew that no amount of love in the world shared between you two would have stopped him, and you also knew that he’d never let you give up on your own aspirations to follow him wherever he went. 

As you walked into the coffee shop, you were captivated by the smell of freshly baked pastries and roasted coffee beans, but everything around you seemed to freeze when you saw him in person - as if the whole world came to a complete standstill at that moment. God, you missed him. You didn’t even realize just how much you’d missed him over the last decade or so it’d been since you’d graduated. He rarely came back to South Carolina for visits, and you hadn’t exactly spent a ton of time in your hometown since college either, but in this moment, it was as if fate had decided again - you needed one another. 

“Kristen? Kristen Taylor, is that you?” His voice sounded the exact same, as if nothing had changed about him in the last 10 or so years. In fact, he even looked the same as he had when you’d graduated high school, even the frames of his glasses had remained the same. 

“Bobby? Wow, it’s been years! It’s so nice to see you,” You smiled fondly as he gently placed one of his large, firm hands on your arm, as if he wasn’t sure a hug was appropriate after so long.

“It’s been too long. Do you have a moment? We could sit and catch up for a few minutes, if you want to? I feel like we lost touch for some reason when I shipped out to training, and I feel like I missed a lot.” He nods sheepishly, almost as if he’s making an admission of guilt. 

“I think I can spare a few minutes,” You nod slowly, smiling as you met his deep blue eyes, “I’m home visiting from New York and just wanted to take it all in, you know? I don’t really have an agenda for today.”

“Perfect,” Robert nods his head as he points to an empty booth by the window, “I’ll wait here for you while you order.”

A few moments later, coffee in hand, you’re sitting opposite him just like you’d done so many times in this very coffee shop when you were teenagers, sipping sweet teas together while sharing a freshly baked cookie or two. He smiled as he set his coffee down and laughed softly, shaking his head as he spoke.

“What have you been up to? You said you’ve been in New York? Like the city? That’s awesome,” He appears completely invested in hearing everything you’ve been up to since he last saw you. 

“Well,” you began to unravel your recent past to him, or as much as you felt comfortable disclosing. You weren’t quite ready to share how you’d had failed relationship after failed relationship since you turned 18, unable to find any man who could compare to him or his sweet demeanor. You didn’t want to tell him that your last relationship ended mercifully as you prepared to walk down the aisle with your ex, and how you got cold feet a few months before the plans were finalized, but didn’t know why that was until today. You had told your ex you just weren’t ready - which wasn’t entirely untrue, but until Bob reentered your life a few minutes ago, it hadn’t dawned on you why you weren’t ready. In reality, it was because no one could ever be Bob. No one could ever give you butterflies like he had, or make you blush when he kissed you on the cheek after asking you to dance at homecoming when you were 15, or hold your hand so protectively as you said goodbye to him when he left for California. 

Instead, you told him how you’d gone to NYU for journalism, how you’d entered the field and loved it instantly, how writing was your passion and you loved it so, and you told him how you’d landed the ideal position, working for a major news network writing copy and scripts for the on-air hosts to read off of, working your way up the corporate food chain to make yourself a producer. You told Bob how New York winters were biting cold at times, but how the freshly fallen snow was almost romantic, and how the sight of Central Park at Christmas was stunning, no movie could do it justice. You told him how you adored the way New York had become like a second home to you, how you felt like you’d found the perfect place for you to thrive, something you’d always struggled with growing up in a small town in the south. 

Robert nodded his head as you spoke, showing deep interest in your every word and thought as you spoke. He never took his gaze away from you and never once appeared bored or as though his mind was elsewhere as you spoke - he was complete invested and hung up on your every word. When you finished, he smiled and sipped his coffee before leaning back slightly in the booth, his eyes widening slightly, the way they often had when you were growing up and he’d been impressed by something he’d read or seen. 

“Wow, you’ve done pretty well for yourself then, I’d say.” He laughs softly, “I haven’t been up to nearly as much, just different tours of duty with the navy, I became a Lieutenant, and became a Naval Weapons Systems Officer, graduated from the Top Gun program, where the top like, 1% of all pilots get called up to. I then joined a task force and did a few more missions with them. I’m still on that task force, but I applied for a leave because it’s been so long since I’ve been home and I haven’t taken a leave in probably,” Robert hums for a moment as he thinks, his cheeks turning red as he speaks, “Honestly? Probably four years. My parents and siblings usually either come to me in California, or I go to my brother’s house in Texas. I don’t often need to come here, but this year my mama wanted to host Thanksgiving, so I opted to come home.”

You noticed that, as Robert spoke, he couldn’t help but keep his focus entirely on you. It was like he was studying your every feature, in case he never got to see them again. The look in his eyes suggested that he never wanted to forget anything about you, as if he was scared that if he didn’t analyze every freckle, every hair on your head and every word that escaped your lips, he’d lose you. Like you’d fade away again, into nothing more than a distant memory. His cheeks continued to blush as he realized he’d been staring at you for longer than he had intended. He shook his head and let out another laugh, this one sounding strained, as if he was trying to cover up any awkwardness that may have arisen because of him. 

“You know, I really am glad we ran into each other again,” he nodded slowly. “You know, you’re still the only person who calls me Bobby. Nowadays, I’m always Bob or Robert, if you’re my parents,” he smiles fondly as he mentions the nickname you’ve called him since the day you met him. You decided that hot August afternoon that Bobby just suited him better. He agreed, and despite his mother’s protests that his name was Robert - it stuck. He was always Bobby to you, and he always would be. 

“Is that so? No other girls have thought to nickname you Bobby as a pet name?” You laughed as you raised an eyebrow before sipping your coffee. You found it hard to believe that he’d never found anyone else. A man as loving and affectionate as Bobby wasn’t something you found every day, you’d learned. In the past decade, you hadn’t managed to do it, despite your best efforts. 

You’d never found a man who matched him perfectly - his sweet personality, his soft spoken nature, his deep baritone voice, his laugh, the way he always protected you fiercely, but yet, always encouraged you to do whatever made you happy, and whatever you felt was best. You’d never met someone who’d rather die for you than ever see you upset. You’d yet to meet another man who’d wiped your tears when you were heartbroken or cuddle up and watch your favourite movie with you over and over again until you smiled when you were having a bad day, or meet another man who made your mother comment with, “Kristen, boys like him don’t come around too often.”. Bobby would always and forever be the only man who could meet all those expectations. 

You knew it was unfair of you, and until today, you didn’t even know why you were doing it, but no man could ever be Bobby. You’d rather spend the rest of your life alone than with anyone who wasn’t him, you’d come to notice. You just prayed he felt the same way, or that you at least could convince him that he did before he went back to California, whenever that was. 

“Nah, come on now, Krissy,” he chuckled as he used his nickname he’d always reserved for you growing up, “You know I’d never meet another girl who I’d let call me that. We could have been apart for 40 years instead of 10, and I still wouldn’t have let anyone else call me Bobby. That’s always been your thing for me. It wouldn’t feel right if someone else called me that, you know?”

“I do. I feel the same about being called Krissy. I don’t think anyone’s called me that since you left,” you nodded slowly as you let out a soft sigh, looking down at the now empty coffee cup on the table in front of you. 

“Krissy?” He said softly, his hand reaching across the table to touch yours ever so gently.  

“Mhmm?” You hummed, not wanting to meet his gaze out of fear that one look at him right now would make you crumble and burst into hysterical tears. 

“You know, I’ve really enjoyed seeing you. Do you think we could see each other again before I go back to base? I leave on Monday, I’m only here for 5 days, unfortunately,” he said quietly, gently holding your hand across the table. You can sense he has more he wants to say, but it’s like he’s struggling to get the words out.

“I think we can make that work, maybe after Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, we could go for a walk? Our folks still live two houses away from one another, so it’s not like we’ll be too far away from each other for the next few days. It’ll be just like old times.” You confirm, nodding your head reassuringly, trying not to seem too eager or excited at the prospect of seeing him every day for the next five days. 

“Sounds good,” Robert smiled warmly as he stood up from the booth, looking down at you with an excited happiness about him, “I’ll come knock on your door after dinner tomorrow then, we can go for a walk like we used to as kids, just enjoy being outside and all that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you laugh as you shake your head, standing from your seat. 

You smiled softly to yourself as you watched Robert head outside, walking down the street past the window of the coffee shop, his navy quarter zip sweater and dark wash denim jeans suiting him perfectly. You bit your lip to hold back a grin as he walked away. You had five days to work up the courage to tell him how you felt. Five short days. You weren’t sure how you were going to do it, but you were certain about one thing - Bob wasn’t leaving South Carolina without you this time.

[mastermindmp3]

imgonnagetyouback

no header we die like men

So, a fun fact about me: I have a physical, burnt CD that I keep songs that play on the idea of "get them back." It is maybe my favorite, favorite double entendre to make.

First of all, I love the stylization of the title? Someone said something about it being a reference to a 1975 song? I actually don't care, I think the all lower case, no spaces presentation of imgonnagetyouback so perfectly encapsulates how she sings it. There's a distinct speed to it, a mischievous side smile to it as well.

Also, god, the vibe of the song is just a little sexy, just a little messy, it's everything I love. The narrator, seeking an ex-flame who ghosted her ( I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into a ditch / then ran and hid ) debates his fate.

There's something very... gloat-ish, in it. I can imagine the narrator, two shots deep, grabbing her lover by the jaw, to say, "I could leave you, like a dumb house party, or I might just love you 'till the end."

(Get Him Back - Fiona Apple)

This song tells, I think, a very tight story. The narrator describes a lover who "Knew the price goin' in." who she sees across the bar, after their split. Over the course of her night, she has decided. Even if I'm handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

My favorite part, and the most revealing, is the bridge. It's always the bridge! ( I think Swift's songwriting prioritizes the bridge as a moment of revelation, a moment where the "why?" of the song is answered. ) The narrator, in no uncertain terms, sees her lover still wanting her, and sees him as the turn around, the new future. Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey.

The narrator thinks that, by getting back with this lover (or by getting back at them) she can "push the reset button, we're becoming something new."

(I'm Gonna Get You Back - Florie)

The bridge's final line also reveals a little bit about how the Narrator sees herself.

Pick your poison babe, I'm poison either way.

The narrator tells her ghosted ex that both options will end badly for him. On one hand, she teases revenge throughout the whole song. Smash your bike / flip you off / curse you out. Or, as a much younger Swift might put it: I wrote a song about you.

On the other hand... There's a tell, there. That she thinks loving her ( pull you into the closet / take you back to my house / be your wife ) is just as poisonous. In a way, maybe the narrator is right. The song's placement directly before The Albatross could be the answer. The narrator sees that trouble will come if he gets back with her, too.

(get him back! - Olivia Rodrigo)

Back on the idea of gloating, though. The song has a bit of Mastermind to it too:

You'll find that you were never not mine.

The narrator feels so totally in control that she will get to decide the fate of this romance. I could take the upper hand. I can tell when someone still wants me. Once you fix your face, I'm goin' in. For a song with such a tight, perfect beat, it works so, so well. I love when the instrumental supports the lyrics.

[atarathegreat]

so if you make malereader... could you make something about Rindou? as if he wanted to introduce his boyfriend to tenjiku

siIf you don't want to do it you can ignore this! remember to rest a little!

Showing You Off

Rindou had never been open about himself. Not because he didn't want to, he just never really talked to anyone. He spoke to Ran most often, and even then, he never told his brother about his relationship, as Ran had a bad habit of screwing everything that walked.

"When am I going to meet your brother?" You had asked him one night, sitting on his bike as you both watched the stars. Rindou groaned, partially wishing that you could just be happy enough to know that Ran was still breathing. But no. You wanted to meet his brother and, what, befriend him? "The idea is that you won't." Rindou admitted. Just the idea of his brother being near you sent his emotions sideways. Ran wasn't nice by a long shot, and he just knew that his brother would say something that would get you into a mood and he would have to deal with even more bullshit.

"Come on, Rindou! We've been together for months now!" You protested and kicked his shin, "You ashamed of me or something?"

"No!" Rindou was anything but ashamed. But he was unsure of how to tell you that his brother was an asshole without you slapping him in the back of the head. "Look, it actually ain't you. Ran is-is...shit, my brother is a dickhead and doesn't know when to shut the fuck up."

"So he'll make a few edgy jokes?"

"Worse."

How was he supposed to make it make sense? Ran would purposefully make you uncomfortable just to see you blush as dark as you could, and that was only if he decided he didn't want to have sex with you. Rindou had one too many significant others whisked away by his brother. "Don't make me tell you the extent." Rindou sighed, leaning on his handlebars.

"Then I want to meet your brother." Why did you have to put him in this position? He decided to suck it up and turned just a little bit to look at you, "You actually want to meet him?"

The way you nodded was cute to him, but he kept his face neutral. Rindou would make sure you knew how cute you were later. "I do, I really do." You leaned forward to give him a kiss, cementing your fate for the later lesson.

The day that you were supposed to finally meet Ran, Rindou was beyond pissed. Ran had collected the whole of Tenjiku to sit in the living room and wait on your arrival. Shion had already said too much and earned a black eye from Rindou, who was getting even more pissed off by the moment. Izana looked bored as he sat in the corner, no doubt wrapped up in this just because Kakucho told him he needed to be supportive.

"Hey! The man of the hour!" Shion quickly earned a second black eye when you walked in. You rolled your eyes at the whole room, about to accuse Rindou of being excited when you shut up quickly. He didn't look happy at all with the situation, so it clearly wasn't his plan.

"I'm Ran." A hand was waved in your face, "I invited everyone, I hope you don't mind. My little brother is everything to me and I wanted him to have a ton of support today."

"That's just fine." You smiled politely at him. Meeting all of his friends at once was something new and unexpected, but you didn't mind. You wanted to know everyone that he was close to. Being a part of his life meant being a part of his life. Rindou slung a jealous arm around your waist to keep you close to him and out of his brothers honey trap.

"So," Shion piped up again, "Who's serving and who's catching?"

I hope it's decent. <3

[dangerousartisanwerewolf]

To All Americans doom scrolling Tumblr right now:

First and foremost I am so sorry for all of you guys. You all did your part but hatred seems to have unfortunately won. I am also incredibly disheartened for all of you and for once in my life I honestly don't know what to say (which is odd for me lol).

Just know

That you did your part. You voted and did your part and that's all you can do.

It's not your fault. Period. Not to sound defeatist but one vote will not decide the fate of an entire election

Life will go on and we will keep on living. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but we will keep going and we will keep living our lives.

Things will get better, it maybe doesnt seem like it right now but things will ger better

I have sadly seen many people on here talk about killing themselves or pleading others to stay alive. As sad as that notion is, it is a very real concern for many now.

As many others have mentioned: PLEASE DON'T KILL YOURSELF OR RELAPSE IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM OVER THE ELECTION RESULTS!!!!!!!!! I know it may feel hopeless and like there is nothing else you can do but please don't. I mentioned many things you can do to distract yourself in a previous post if you want to look.

There are many $u1c1d3 hotlines and other mental health resources available you can access. Please do if you feel like you need to

List of hotlines/ help resources to call/talk to:

Sorry I can't link anything because I am not tech savy but hopefully a list is useful too. Got most of these off of instagram so maybe you'll see the posts circulating around. Keep in mind I am a minor who does not live in the U.S so if these are not the most helpful don't flame me.

LQBTQ Resources:

The 988 lifeline- 988lifeline.org (Call,text, or chat)

The Trevor project- thetrevorproject.org/get-help (24/7 crisis counselling)

SAGE x Hearme-sageusa.org/hearme (On demand mental wellness app)

LGBTQ center directory- lgbtqcenters.org/LGBTCENTERS (Centre directory, find one near you)

PFLAG- pflag.org/findachapter (Find a chapter near you)

QChat space-qchatspace.org (Online Lgbtq community for teens)

Suicide/crisis hotline

Dial 988 or visit 988lifeline.org

Warm lines that don't call the police:

Call blackline- 800-604-5841 (Centre's BIPOC, LGBTQ, Black femme lens)

Trans lifeline-877-585-8660 (U.S number) Canada has one of these too if you need it

Wildflower alliance peer support line- 888-407-4515 (Trained peer supporters

Strong hearts Native helpline- 844-762-8483

Thrive lifeline- 313622-8209 (Trans led and operated)

LGBTQ national help center- 888-843-4564

Hope that helps

Other easy ways to take care of your mental health:

Take a social media break/hiatus

Hang out with friends or family

Get out in nature (Go for a hike, bike ride ect)

distract yourself with comfort media

read

do something creative

practice a hobby

I already have a post with a pretty extensive list of stuff you can do to distract/cope if you need any ideas. I'm not going to copy it all out but its just a little down from this post in my account if you scroll.

Above all please stay safe:

Many have mentioned this but make sure you stay safe too, especially if you are in a red state where people may be looking for an opportunity. As fucked up as it feels to even type this out:

Scrub your socials of anything that may "Give you away" if you feel you need to

If you know someone who is queer, trans, poor, pregnant, an immigrant, needing an abortion, getting an abortion done, or anything that could make living dangerous to them- no you don't. try and keep loved ones safe if you can

Don't out yourself for being any of the above things if you can help it

Don't engage in politics talk with people if you can help it. If someone asks what party you supported don't tell them, they may just be looking for information they can use

One last reminder:

Please remember to:

Eat regular meals/remember to eat at all

Drink water

Take screen breaks (As it will hurt your eyes and give you a headache)

Go to sleep at a regular time

don't bed rot all day

don't doom scroll election content all day

turn off the news at some point, its not healthy to sit and watch the news all day

get out in nature/step outside and touch grass and get some fresh air if you can

talk to your loved ones and seek support if you need

get off social media for a bit (Even if you say all day social media doesnt make a difference to you I know it does)

make sure to take it easy today if you can, take care of your mental health and I hope that everything will be alright for you guys. Stay safe out there

[ashsimpsalot]

thank you for doing god's work and blessing us with wonderful monkey man fics 🫡

if youre taking requests, id like to make one with a blackwidow!reader, she's undercover at the hotel as well and was confused when someone made an attempt at rana singh then tracks kid down and even helps him train. they go through the fight together and after that they start a new life in the end 🫶

sorry if its too specific, feel free to make any changes however you like and tysm in advance if you decide to do this 🩷✨️

The lack of kid x reader content is killing me. I'm glad you liked my fics though, thank you for reading! THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER ERM

I've never written action before, hopefully I do this fic justice. Im sorry if it just seem like I'm yapping😭

Hands Up (Kid X Blackwidow!Reader)

Holy Fuck!

You've been undercover in India for almost 2 months and you didn't even know autos could drift like that!

You're hot on their trail, abusing the throttle to its limit.

Whoever this guy is, he's either extremely ballsy, or extremely stupid to go after Rana Singh like that.

The helmet didn't help with the shooting sounds at all, you couldn't take it anymore, drifting away and avoiding to be near but near enough that you could see where the guy was going. Your already ringing ears would go deaf if you trailed them any closer.

Shit he went into an alleyway.

Your eyes trailed around the road.

Bingo

Another alley that links to his spot.

Maybe it took you 5 minutes extra but once you got there, the auto was already flipped onto its side, empty. The policemen were chasing someone who's running on foot.

Running on the fucking roof!

Limping.

You twisted the throttle of the motorbike to chase after him but he ended up falling onto the road after an officer shot his leg

You hit the brakes. Tires screeching loud at how sudden the brake was. Stopping the bike right in front of him.

"get the fuck on! Hurry!"

He looked confused but decided to question it later and hopped on.

You zoomed away from the place, going into an alley an coming out the other, making sure no one sees where you guys were headed.

His grip on your waist loosens.

Oh no he's losing blood.

"man don't pass out on me yet!" you yelled, making sure he heard but his answer was mumbling and gibberish. Before he could limp off of the bike, you reached back and placed one hand on his back.

You sighed and accepted your fate, your arms going to hurt from the weird position but at least he won't fall off.

You zoomed right to the temple, dragging this tall building of a man in with you all by yourself.

You called on Alpha, she almost chuckle at how you struggle to bring the man in.

"I told you, child, if you need help, ask for it," she said like a mother nagging her child while helping you steady the man.

"I am asking for help, help this guy," you reply mumbling like a teenager after being scolded, she let's out a huff and guided the man onto the makeshift bed.

"wait outside, take care of your own wounds, hm? There's food in the kitchen, eat up," she said softly then closes the curtain.

A pang in your heart, she's like a mother to all these people here and to you too. You didn't expect to step foot on the motherland and gain an actual mother figure.

When you hear the man screaming in agony you knew exactly what she was doing as you yourself was on that makeshift bed a month ago.

You chuckled and went to the kitchen.

After indulging in a plate of naan and a cup of coffee, you sighed and lean against the chair, closing your eyes, floating in a food coma. finally taking the well needed rest you've been procrastinating.

That is until a soft pinch on your shoulder startle you.

"I told you to tend to your wounds first, child," Alpha scolded, dragging a chair in front of you with the small medical box in her hands.

25 years of training, nothing could get past you.... except for Alpha. For some reason she has a way to sneak up on you.

You gave a silly smile, letting her tend to your light wounds. "I was hungry," she hummed dismissively.

"the man is alright, he'll need a few hours before he regain consciousness. Who is he?" she asked, eyes still pinned onto the cut on your arm.

"he tried to go after Rana Singh, all by himself, in Queenie's hotel with a small gun. I think he could've succeeded but not sure what made him miss the shot," you said simply.

"why did you help him?"

"he's stupid but I saw how he fought, he's got potential,"

Alpha hums and packs the medical box. "and maybe because he has a pretty face," you joked while grinning at her. She chuckled and shook her head and stood up.

"your bed roll is still unused," she said, some guilt creeps up on you. You left, after staying with them for a month, to go after Queenie.

"thank you,"

You went to take a little nap.

When you open your eyes again, you heard chaotic voices of confusion. The guy had woken up.

"hey, clam down,"

"you? You're... The chef?" he's more confused than ever. You nodded. "look, you're still recovering, take it easy and sit down. I'll explain everything."

He seemed reluctant but sat down on the nearest branch anyway.

"who..are you?" he asked, eyes pinning on his fidgetung hands.

You started with your name and he nodded. Taking a few seconds, wondering where to start.

"I'm a blackwidow, well, was a Blackwidow, after the fall of the red room most widows just work with each other trying to free others who were injected with mind controlling serum."

Blackwidow? His mind flashed to pictures of the only famous widow, Natasha Romanoff, the fucking avenger? He looked confused but try to take in what you said.

"but I didn't do that. I came for revenge."

"revenge? On whom?" he looked up at you, you knew that look in his eyes, you see them in your own everyday, the thirst for revenge, sunk in a sea of violence.

"They ship kids, the red room, they take us in very very young." you started with a heavy voice, you've told this story multiple times but fuck, knowing you're so near to where it happened is just too much.

"and where do you get kids, untraced, unwanted, unregistered kids?" your eyes lifted to look at him, as if quizzing him. He shook his head as a sign that he never thought about that.

"human trafficking rings, prostitution rings and Queenie just happen to have the biggest rings in whole of fucking Asia,"

He furrowed his eyebrows. He's known a fair share of prostitute, most of them keep their kids, at least his mother kept him, but his mother did left to live somewhere else.

"Queenie has a reportation to uphold, she can't have legal cases against her, she can't have her girls die from multiple abortion, the kids will just be threads someone could pull and find out the truth so she cuts em. Take all the kids and ship them for the red room. She got a ton of money for that too,"

He looked horrified, he didn't even know that was a thing people fucking do.

"I want to put a stop to this, maybe there red room is gone but she's still doing something with those kids,"

He looked up at you and nodded, he understood.

"what about you? Going after Rana Singh by yourself like that, in his own slice of heaven,"

He sighed then stared off into the distance, he's eyeing the kids who were giggling and chasing each other in the middle of the temple.

A sense of innocence both of you lost a long time ago.

"he killed my mother," you sucked in a quick breath. Mother, you're both avenging your mothers then. Though he's avenging a woman he knew and you don't event know the name of yours.

"then we better get ready. I saw you, when you were fighting. You fight a lot?"

"at the ring. For money" you nodded, you know of the tiger temple, an excuse to gamble, honestly.

"I realise you let your left hand go idle for too long, we'll work on that," you simply said and stood up.

"though for now, you should rest, I'm going for a shower, Alpha will bag my ears off if she realise I took a nap before showering."

You offered him a smile, half joking.

The next few weeks are dedicated to teaching him, reminding him not to neglect his left hand. Another habit you see is that he sucks in and hold his breath in while throwing a punch, leaving his breathing a little erratic after a long fight.

"there you go, Kid!" you yelled with a smile after he basically torn the makeshift punching bag.

He walked towards you. "was that good?"

You nodded though a silly smile creeped on your lips. "yeah, had the whole temple screaming, I bet it was because your lack of clothing," you teased. Kid smiled, a genuine smile, and thanked you.

One night he went missing, two nights before diwali, a bag of money was hung on one of the branches with a note with his writing on it.

You went to find him and when you did he looked apologetic.

"I told you, we're doing this together," you said, hitting him with a slap on his stupid face. He turned back to look at you. "I'm sorry I... I had to fight in that ring alone."

His voice soft but fuck, his lips looks softer, maybe he saw that desire in your eyes because he had them in his own. He pulled your arms softly, leaning down to kiss you on your lips.

"we stick together, that's the plan," you breathed softly after he pulled away. Kid, being himself, didn't say anything and nodded.

He didn't think he could've kept that promise but he did.

The night of diwali, you dragged him out of the burning hotel, he had passed out after killing Baba Shakti.

He woke up to the same scene he did almost 2 months ago but this time with familiar faces and a heavier feel in his chest, relief. Relief that he's alive, that's new for him.

"you're awake," you said. He looked dreamy, that's also new.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, worried if he had lost too much blood or hit his head too hard somewhere. Your hands carefully trace his face, head even body to inspect if Alpha had missed a wound somewhere.

He shook his head, toon your wandering hands in his and smiled.

Fuck, he's finally home.

With the woman he loves, a sanctuary that might need fixing but filled with pure love, a worried woman that plays a role his mother played years ago.

He had a reason to live.

"I love you," Kid whispered, he trued to think of the last time he's said that but no memory came up.

Your eyes soften and that day he fell deeper.

"I love you too"

A few years later he'd tell the kids that laid on his chest, with his hair and your eyes, a smile on his face, proudly tracing the memory of how the wild monkey finally find his peace with a spider.

The little girl laughed. "amma'a a spider!" she would repeat that again and again as if that's the funniest thing her appa ever said, her brother chasing after her, suddenly it's a game of tag.

"don't run!" Alpha would scold after the two almost bumping into her, scared that she'll accidentally spill the drink she's taken for herself.

Kid laughed.

His life is perfect.

It's perfect.

[walkingwiththegods1]

Our duty with Gaia, The Earth; The Living Beings, and with The Humanity: Stopping Climate's Change from The Pagan/Wiccan/Witch's Perspective.

(Note: I mention some advice than may help to our Planet and us, than show our devotion and duty to the Earth/Deities; but... If you are allergic to any food or ingredients, don't use them; and read any container or product before to buy it or eat it, to avoid allergic reactions; and don't make changes in your diet, if you are a minor; you are pregnant, lactanting, with a medical condition, or; recovering of a disease: Thank you for reading my post!)

We tend to focus too much in our Spirituality (Or, in our faith), than we sometimes may loss sight of the material aspect in our lives; like profits to buy the things we need, socialization; work in The Communities we live (in a big or a little scale), or spending more time with our love ones, 'cause we may have neglected our families/friends/plants/pets; attending to other things. Today, I will talk of one of the things; we may forgot sometimes, as both our duty and an offering to the Deities...

...Fighting against Climate Change in a daily basis, in all the ways we can!

Now, all of you may think: What kind of nonsense is this, of talk about Climate Change in a Pagan/Wiccan/Witch Blog?! Well... Before you think in leaving this post, I'm assure you than this will maybe more useful than you may think, so please... Get along with this, and in the end; you will decided if it reading it, was of any worth for you!

As a person tha lives in The Caribbean... I had live the horrifying impacts than Climate Change, has caused indirectly in my life; and directly, in the lives of others than lives in communities far from were I live in my country, and... In the images from the the nearest islands, and in the nations bathed by The Caribbean Sea. (I don't going to fill your mind, with the saddest and terrorific details than may causes to anyone than reads them; at least 1 or 2 nights of nightmares; but... I will resume it, in two quotes: ''The water for the first time, innundated completely to the street were I live'', and ''I don't desired what I have saw in the news, even to my worst enemy...'' )

I'm talking of this issue, 'cause Climate Change is not something than we expected to happen; when we have our heads full of white/gray hairs, or; as something than the ones younger than us, with have to deal with our lack of efforts to stop it, after we left this world: The Consecuences of The Climate Change (including the more unbereable heat we felt and feel in these years), is not something of a far future... Is happening in front of our own eyes, now!

The Pagans, The Wiccans and Witches of The World, we must do all we can in our hands, to avoid the dark fate than may fall over the present and future generations; and over our Planet, as much as possible: As ''The Special Sons and Daughters of Gaia'', we must do it for our Mother Gaia; which provide us of our food, the nature where we go to recharge our energies or where to live; the plants and animals than heal us and reconfort us even with their sight and presence, and... With her endless maternal love for all the beings in The Earth.

These are all the things in full we can make to honor the compromise to help to Gaia, to help her to fight Climate Change; than is the same to help to sustain life for all of us... And, for our Planet:

Eat Local Products, as much as possible: 80% of your grocery buy, must came of your country. Ex.: If you buy 10 articles, only 2 of them, can be foreign products. If you buy 100 articles, only 20 can be; of foreign production. (In this way, means of less use of gasoline to transporting food; less air's contamination, plus... Saving more money!)

Travel using Non-Motor Vehicles, as much as possible: Roller-Skates, Skateboards and Bikes; are your best options for short trips. If you have trouble walking, or you can't walk more than 4 Kms. At foot... Use public transportation, or share a car with family/friends! (If you use an electric wheelchair for any reason, don't worry: Is your way to move in The World, and... Wheelchairs never has appeared as a contaminating vehicle!)

Travel more inside your country, than to foreign lands: Less distance to travel... Means less contaminating material than may ends in the water, the soil and/or the air. And... You will have the chance to meet wonders in your own nation, than you didn't know than exists! (Save the money of your countless trips on a cruise/plane, for your next spring/summer/autumn/winter/end of the year/beginning of the year getaway!)

Turn off any devices than you are not using in that time: If you know than your trip to the nearest store at home, will take more than 20 or 30 minutes... Why leaves the TV/AC/PC/etc, turn on? Is the same thing, if you leaves a light on; or any devices on without using it at the moment. (Your pocket and The Planet... Will thank you for that!)

Uses your technology devices, in a wise eco-friendly way: If your smartphone has more than six month of being buyed, and have a little scratch on the screen... Please don't discarded for a new one, if is still working mostly well: Give it a least six months more, so to avoid the liquids than leaks to the earth, after the Smartphone/Laptop/PC/Tablet; are trowed to the garbage. (Plus, you will have more time and money to buy a new device; with a higher quality and durability than the old one!)

Buy Beauty and/or Personal Care Products made with organic ingredients: You can buy an Sunscreen, than doesn't damage to the Coral Reefs; in a supermarket (Is that simple to take care of ourselves and the Planet), and even if is not 100% organic... Is a big change, as of using Shampoos; Makeups, or anything for your routine than have mostly organic products; or at least the less amount of chemicals possible.

Eat more Vegetables/Fruits/Legumes/Mushrooms, and less Animal Products: Dairy products, Honey and Eggs (Unless, you're a Vegan...); are the best sources of Proteins of High Quality and Vitamin B12, which deficiency causes many health issues; and are the best way to prescind of eating meat, specially red meat. (If you were advice by a doctor to eat meat for anemia, do it as the doctor advises you: I want than people to saves The Earth... Without risking their health!)

Buying Second-Hand Clothing, and/or New Clothes dyed Naturally; help too: Dyes in clothes are mostly chemicals, and contaminates the earth; the rivers and the seas: If you don't like the idea of using second-hand clothing (you can leave it in hot or clorinated water for 24 hours, rinses totally and hang it outside till totally dried; to left than the power of The Sun, desinfects and killed whatever the washing alone couldn't; but... YMMV!), then find online what companies and brands uses natural dyes in their clothes; so you now know to where to buy; to your next brand new clothes!

Reuse any container than says reusable, after you finish the original contain in it: Example: If that little container of Sodium Bicarbonate is now empty... You can use it to keeps all those loose button than fall from your clothes, or that little glass bottle of olive oil; wash it well, mix vinegar and oil with spices.... And makes your own homemade salad dressing! (These are general ideas, to avoid to add more garbage to The Earth; for a awhile)

Play Board Games/Table Games, when you get tired of watching TV/Websurfing: By turning off your TV or your Computer, and play Board/Table Games; you will save energy and money, and keeps your brain healthy. (If your live alone, or don't have someone to play regularly... Remember than ''Solitary'', ''Sudoku''; ''Kakuro'' and ''Crosswords'', can being play alone, the same as a Puzzle of 100 pieces; or more!)

Try to watch less of 4 hours of TV, a day. (If you still watching, or using a TV; at home): One of the Home Devices than more consumes electricity, is the Color TV; and watching 4 hours of TV or more, is detrimental for your health, the Earth (Or your wallet); but... In the time of the TV Streaming, is hard for many people to fulfill this goal; but... Don't feel guilty about it! Just pick wisely at what moment of the day you will watch TV: You can watch two hours at afternoon and two at nights, or four hours after returning from work; or one hour of TV at the morning and the rest after work: You will have more time to do things than you like, like a walk to your neighborhood or community; visit to friends, reading a book, starting a new personal project, talking to a friend/family member at the phone... And anything you have a long time not doing, for watching more TV than you should. (Trust me: Just like you... I Woke up one day, saying to myself: ''I think is time to watch LESS TV!...'')

With all these advices, you life will improve greatly; and you will feel proud of helping to our planet, to others; and to Gaia.

That's all for today: Than all of us can help to Gaia in anyway we can, be it in the big or small way; for our future... So Be It!

[frmamnac]

Theory about considering that Marco and Toffee were connected

Do you remember the theory that Marco and Toffee are connected? It is a theory with a lot of negative opinions, but I tried my best to think about it.

Marco and Toffee both have a planned and meticulous personality. I think... their gestures are sometimes similar, I was making comparisons (1-5).

Besides, The following are the ones that appear in Toffee's first appearance episode.

Star's penstand with holes. I think it's similar to the symptoms of victims of Solaria's magic.

Dead End signs, Star and monsters.

A fortune cookie message that Toffee sent to Star says "Love is always the answer".

Toffee sees Star helping Marco.

Toffee say that "You're not the only one who is the victim of magic" to Ludo's gang.

What if these are things that foreshadowing something? When Marco is involved in magic, he often combines with purple things. The monster arm emits purple liquid, Marco's corpse in the closet (with Mewberty Star's hearts) has purple skin, his hands turn purple when he touches Mewberty Star, Princess Turdina wears a purple dress, and the purple cloth he wears has nothing to do with magic, but look at the shape. Doesn't the drape look like a Septarian's tail?

Purple-ish black unicorn stabbed Marco. What if Toffee and unicorn's dark magic (I guess) were related to Marco's monster arm?

Toffee said he knows the future. What if Star, her friends, and monsters are killed by Mina's forces' magic, when Star won't destroy magic? (In fact, most of her friends and monsters were almost killed) Then, What if Mewni was destroyed in the battle between Mina and Eclipsa?

Daron Nefcy said Toffee as Magneto-type villain. Magneto was Professor X's best friend, Marco was Star's best friend. So, if Star fails to destroy the magic, maybe Marco'll shapeshifted to Septarian by unicorn's dark magic and time-traveled to the ancient Mewni. (It may sound silly) Glossaryck may have created a weird time loop. (He had access to the River of Time) so, Toffee could have been Other Marco who come from such bad future timeline.

Toffee may knew that he would be killed as Star's first enemy, so he probably decided to give Star the idea of destroy the magic for change the wrong future, but in the process, probably he entered Realm of Magic and went crazy, and died as like "Toffee" who was in his original timeline. Glossaryck may has seen Marco as Toffee's 14 year old version. When they first met, Glossaryck said he wouldn't let Marco read magic spells book. I feel like he disliked Marco until day that Star rode the bike.

Even if Marco was influenced by evil monster arm, he is not necessarily evil. In this case, Toffee wouldn't kill Comet, but his subordinates would do it at their discretion. Glossaryck's been acting like a pet for a while after Toffee's death, Maybe that was because he felt guilty about making Star killed "Marco".

Well, Marco is just a boy from Earth, but he tried to become a knight because he wanted to get close to Star, the princess of Mewni. Marco's exploits with Toffee's death gave Marco the idea of ​​becoming a knight. I wrote that about Toffee was acting like a knight. And what if Marco's Blood Moon's nightmare warns his fate that he will be killed by Star when he falls in love with her? Toffee lives in Star's past, and Marco lives in Star's future. Star and Marco, who are tied by Curse of Blood Moon, will be bound in weird time loop forever, untill Cleaved canceled bad future.

I don't know why Toffee stole Ludo's castle and his gang. He manipulated Ludo a lot but it also made Buff Frog a Star's friend, it triggered that Star wants Mewni to stop the monster abuse and protect monsters.

I think Toffee's apparent age is 30s. Marco at Neverzone is still child with an adult body. too childish. Star and Toffee's mental age is too far apart, he maybe saw Star as his old best friend. Throughout the show, Star and Toffee barely had a chance to speak. Marco is the type who is into the role he plays, and he is good at hiding his emotions. If he felt responsible for Star's grandma's death, he wouldn't be able to tell the truth. He may have been acting like a crazy, cruel man to Star and her friends on purpose, in order not to kill his childhood. "Surprise" is a word when the Diaz family celebrates Star every day, so it may be a symbol of friendship.

Toffee has existed since he was a teenager. The reason why he was shocked when Marco said, "You're boring" would because he had the time he was able to live as his true self was too short, and he forgot what he was like living as himself. On the other hand, he may have despised his past self who had no power or knowledge to protect the important things. Toffee's last words were probably a warning or mocking to his past self, and were probably the answer to "boring".

"Code name is Sailor V", a spinoff of Sailor Moon came to my mind. The villain in this story was just a common soldier who wanted to become a knight to get closer to the princess of Venus, Minako's previous life. However, after everyone died in the war and the queen of the moon let reborn everyone with magical powers. Even though he was Minako's enemy, he tried to help her grow, but he died when doing fortune-telling that Minako was destined to kill the person she loved. Minako will ended up killing her boyfriend who became an enemy. Daron loves Sailor Moon, and Mina's name is taken from Minako, but Minako looks like Star a bit.

But how can Marco be so dark and conspiratorial?

I think Marco knew very little about monster abuse in Mewni. He would be angry if he knows that, and he will try to protect the monsters from Mewmans as one of the earthlings because he knows Mewmans were earthlings, and would be thoroughly research magic and Mewni's history. And Marco's charisma will be gather the support of Septarians. In order to protect the existence of Star, he may had to keep Butterfly family alive while dealing with the monster's hatred for Butterfly family, and he would have been afraid of losing the support of the monsters.

Marco was once unable to oppose princesses in St. Olga for fear of losing the support of them. Perhaps his harsh environment has made him ruthless. He may have been bound by his past as Septarian and had limited things to do. I think he has reason for hating Glossaryck. Glossaryck made Star's ancestors, the colonists of Earth, into Butterfly family and Mewman.

The reason he wore a suit instead of a general's uniform in front of Star and Marco was because that's the style of Earth politicians, and he wanted things to be resolved by negotiation, not fighting. And he didn't stand in the way of Marco (his past self) going to Blood Moon Ball and getting cursed with Star by curse of Blood Moon.

Unfortunately, Dark magic that Toffee was melting in Realm of Magic will strengthen the desire for revenge. He may have wanted to inactive MHC and Moon because them empower Mina's rebellion. What if the magic and Star's family destroyed his life? What if magic doesn't exist? What if the colonists from Earth, the ancestors of Star, didn't go to Mewni? What if Star was born as an earthling? What if Marco chose Jackie instead of Star? Almost everything he has experienced could give him reason to hate magic.

His purpose in S1 would to protect Star, but in S2 may have changed to save Marco's life from Star. The reason he was so obsessed with his lost finger was probably because it was the only point of contact between his past self and his present self. The motivation in that case will be self-love. Realm of Magic will not kill Star, but there will make her suffer. He may have locked Star there to teach her his suffering, instead of telling her who he is. In my native language Toffee said "bye-bye" to Star. it is the farewell word between Star and Marco. (in English that's "bye")

(I think this has a "you're fired" kind of nuance, but Marco does something like this when comforting his friends. What's interesting to me personally is that Buff Frog will soon be a father to babies.)

Edit:2024/07/17, Fix

[snowviolettwhite]

Rules: Share a song, or several if you'd like, that relate either to Tarlos or a different 911 LS character(s).

Tagged by the lovely @heartstringsduet

Tk & Carlos/ Tarlos

Carlos saw Tk that first night and decided that boy is my soulmate and future husband. Tk later says that was why he ran way the first place. Tk knew Carlos was also his soulmate.

"Once upon a time

The planets and the fates and all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room at the same time

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

Of a chain reaction of countermoves

To assess the equation of you

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

What if I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork, and then just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine It was all by design

'Cause I'm a mastermind"

----

"So I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork, and then saw a wide smirk on your face,

you knew the entire time

You knew that I'm a mastermind

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

'Cause I'm a mastermind"

------------------

Owen & Tk - Father/Son Love

Tk wants to be just like his dad when he grows up. Owen sometimes wishes Tk was not so much like him. He probably sent his parents into a panic when he told them he is going to be a firefighter.

I remember sayin', "I don't care either way Just as long as he or she is healthy, I'm okay" And then the doctor pointed to the corner of the screen And said, "Yo, see that thing right there? Well, you know what that means"

I started wonderin' who he was gonna be And I thought, "Heaven help us if he's anything like me" He'll probably climb a tree too tall and ride his bike too fast End up every summer wearin' somethin' in a cast He's gonna throw a ball and break some glass in a window down the street

He's gonna get in trouble, he's gonna get in fights I'm gonna lose my temper and some sleep It's safe to say that I'm gonna get my payback if he's anything like me

I can see him right now, knees all skinned up With a magnifying glass, tryin' to melt the Tonka truck Won't he be a sight with his football helmet on? Well, that'll be his first love 'til his first love comes along He'll get his heart broke by the time he's in his teens And heaven help him if he's anything like me

He'll probably stay out too late and drive his car too fast Get a speedin' ticket, he'll pay for mowin' grass He's gonna get caught skippin' class and be grounded for a week

He's gonna get in trouble, we're gonna get in fights I'm gonna lose my temper and some sleep It's safe to say that I'm gonna get my payback, if he's anything like me

He's gonna love me and hate me along the way The years are gonna fly by, I already dread the day

Driving through town just my boy and me With a happy meal in his booster seat Knowing that he couldn't have the toy 'Till his nuggets were gone

Green traffic light turned straight to red I hit my brakes and mumbled under my breath His fries went a flying and his orange drink covered his lap Well then my four year old said a four letter word That started with "s" and I was concerned So I said son now now where did you learn to talk like that

He said I've been watching you dad, ain't that cool I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you And eat all my food and grow as tall as you are We got cowboy boots and camo pants Yeah we're just alike, hey ain't we dad I wanna do everything you do So I've been watching you

--

Tagging But No Pressure : @anewkindofme. @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad. @the-flaming-nightmare. @aroeddiediaz @missmagooglie

@babygirl-diaz

@lochnesswriter

[badassomens]

Noah Sebastian x f! Reader

Genre: from friends to lovers, fluff, +18, smut

Warnings: Alcohol, smoking,p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex

Author: I really hope you enjoyed it. This is my first such fic with Noah. And in general, the first big fic. I would also like to remind you that English is not my native language, so I apologize for the mistakes❤️

Part 4

In the morning, after spending the night on the beach, Noah drove you home. After saying a hasty goodbye, he hurried away, referring to important matters.

That was the last day you saw him. He just disappeared. It's like he never existed. You called and texted him, but there was no answer. Mutual friends and acquaintances didn't say anything either.

Your search was unsuccessful. It was only a month later that you found out that someone you knew had seen Noah at the airport that ill-fated day. And all you had to do was hope that he was alive.

~

You were returning home from the store when you saw a familiar figure near your house. You were already beginning to think that it was a hallucination, but as you got closer, you realized that it really was him. Three months have passed, and you still couldn't forget that asshole. Noah, in turn, looked like a naughty puppy. He was standing near the gate of the house, his head down, obviously thinking about something.

"Noah?!" you still called out to the guy, attracting his attention "You... what are you doing here?"

"Hello, sunshine." Noah looks up at you, which literally screams about how guilty he is in front of you "I'm kind of waiting for you here."

"Are you kidding me now?!"

You feel how everything inside begins to boil from the accumulated pain and resentment, and unbidden tears come to your eyes.

"Please wait. Let me explain everything first, and then do whatever you want with me." Noah holds out his hand to you. "And please... come closer, sunshine"

You came closer to the man, restraining yourself so as not to beat him, and then rush into his arms.

"Noah Sebastian Davis, I'm waiting for an explanation! And don't delay it. I'm in a hurry."

"Well... I was flying away on business..."

"Why didn't you warn anyone?! Do you have any idea what my thoughts were when you disappeared?"

"I had my reasons. I needed to be alone."

"Well, if you have to, then stay alone. I've had enough. I have an important meeting.…"

You turned back to the house. Naturally, there was no meeting. You just wanted to show Noah how angry you are at him.

Without saying a word, the man walked up to the motorcycle he came on, took off his helmet and handed it to you, calling out.

" Margot… I beg…"

Turning around, you take the guy's helmet and get on the bike behind him, hugging the guy tightly across his chest.

You missed that asshole too much to refuse at least one trip.

You drove through the streets of the sunny city in silence. You just nuzzled into the guy's back, inhaling such a native scent of perfume and feeling the warmth of his body.

After a while, Noah brought you to his house. You've been here before, but this time he took you to the backyard.

After sitting you down on a wicker chair, the man went into the house and returned after a while with two bottles of beer, one of which he kindly handed to you. You sat in silence for a while, but when she started to escalate, you decided to ask Noah the question that bothered you the most at the moment.

"So... are you going to tell me what made you run away without saying goodbye?"

"You.". He looked at you and turned away, taking a sip of beer from a bottle

"What, I'm sorry? What do you mean, I am?"

"I was scared. So I left."

"I mean, what are you scared?" You absolutely couldn't understand what Noah was talking about and looked at him in disbelief.

"I was scared of a kiss during our sleepover in the car" .

"I still don't understand you..."

"I just thought that maybe the next morning you would understand everything and you would feel disgusted by our kiss." He looked at you, "in case you decide to end our friendship because of this... so I decided not to complicate it all and left."

"God, why are you like this… I remember perfectly well that I was the one who climbed up to you with a kiss. So I owe you an apology." you covered your face with your hands, realizing the absurdity of what happened "I just drank a little too much, and you were imagining something incomprehensible to yourself ... and, by the way, I liked it. I would even repeat it, but only on condition that you don't run away anymore."

"Margot, I'm going to take the beer away from you now, it's a bad influence on you." Noah looks at you seriously for no more than half a minute before he breaks down and smiles.

"Hey, don't be a bore, I was just kidding."

"I was just joking too, sunshine" Noah turns away, but you don't have time to notice how something seems to go out in his gaze.

You were glad that you discussed everything, but after looking at Noah carefully, you realized that he had not told you the whole reason for his escape. Deciding that he would tell you everything later, you did not interrogate him.

You were still sitting for a long time, having drunk more than one or two bottles of beer, when Noah suddenly asked

" Today my friend has a party. Do you want to come with me?"

"In general, I don't mind. Especially with you"

From the author: somehow everything turned out to be messy, sorry

[g0giro]

Tagged by @isaac-clarke, thank you! So 3 facts about me...

I once had to get surgery for getting stitches on my jaw when I was young. I don't even recall how old I was, but I was 5~7ish. I was riding a bike in an empty parking lot which was the only place that was big enough. Not so many cars used to come to park there so the chance that anyone could get hit by a car was near zero, but somehow a taxi came in and hit me, I fell down, hit the rough ground hard, my grandma found me bleeding, I went far to go to the hospital because all clinics were closed because it was around 7 pm, and I got anesthesia and got surgery. I remember that my parents had to come a long way to see me because they were living in other cities.

I still can't ride a bike if I can say that experience is the reason. It's not like I was traumatized by riding a bike or a taxi. Actually I tried to learn how to ride a bike again when I grew up a little bit older, but I couldn't stop it without crashing into my dad whenever he tried to teach me. We both stopped doing it regularly for our sake.

So the last one is about why some people call me Dave. One day, I found a group chat where me, my friend, and a complete stranger were there. I wanted to know who they were, I could've just asked it normally but somehow my weird mind decided to ask them after disguising myself as a foreigner. I discussed it with my friend and we both thought it would be a great approach. I did it, and after a few hours, another friend called me while laughing so hard. She told me that one of her friends encountered a weird ass foreigner in an old group chat that hadn't been used for a few months and now they were worried if they got involved in a serious scam or something. I immediately knew that 'weird ass foreigner' was me, and I told her the truth. Later it turned out to be a group chat for playing DST where she invited me, my friend, and her friend. She left the chat first, so that was why there were only three of us in that chat, causing the whole thing. The name I used for it was David, so she used to call me Dave just to make fun of me since there was already David in her contact, I was so embarrassed about it at first, but I just accepted my fate in the end and now I use it as my English name.

Tagging @jokest3r, @lokidaemonium, @mech4n15m, and @duccdoesthedootdoot!

[missvelvetsstuff]

Where You Goin, Star?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

BikerAU

Summary: Reader meets Bucky when the truck hauling her show horses breaks down as she is trying to leave for an event and he works for the mechanic. Passionate, secret love affair ensues. After a confrontation with her father, Bucky decides she deserves better than a poor biker like him and leaves town with his friends Steve and Sam.

Three years later, reader is trapped in an abusive relationship and about to give up hope of things ever improving, when Bucky comes back.

Chapter 15

Warnings: swearing, angst

The rest of the week flew by as Star spent hours preparing for the upcoming trial and working with business associates to manage her businesses. The Saturday night before the trial started Bucky planned a quiet and relaxing evening in for just the two of them.

Since they were still sticking close to Stark tower, for safety reasons until the trial was over, he asked Pepper for help and planned a picnic in Y/N's room. Pepper called Y/N to shop at her place and they spent hours looking at clothes, debating styles, fabrics and colors.

It was after 6pm when Y/N realized how much time had passed "Damn Pep, why didn't you tell me it was getting so late? I was supposed to meet Bucky 20 minutes ago."  She grabbed her phone, surprised that there were no messages.

Pepper looked at her knowingly "How are things going with you two? Anything steamy to gossip about?"

Y/N felt her face heat up and shook her head "No, nothing like that. He's just been very supportive and protective. A good friend."

Pepper looked at her sympathetically "I understand why you are being careful but that man is crazy about you. It's written all over his face. Yours too. Taking it slow is smart but don't let John or your fathers words throw you off track. They were hate filled bastards so don't let them ruin what you have."

Y/N wiped a tear off of her face, still overwhelmed at any kindness offered to her "Thank you, Pepper. You don't know how much your and Tony's friendship and support has meant to me. I really had given up on the idea of people helping others for the sake of helping, without any conditions or expectations." She hugged Pepper quickly "We'll finish this shopping later." And bolted out of the apartment and to her own.

The door was unlocked so she knew Bucky was already there but she wasn't expecting her rooms to be turned into a fairy tale. There were twinkle lights everywhere and a few candles, which made the room glow softly and left a hint of vanilla behind. Mellow jazz was playing softly.

Bucky looked up at her and smiled nervously, hoping that she liked it, that he wasn't moving too fast. The smile on her face encouraged him.

"Welcome home, Star. I have supper ready if you're hungry. Have a seat on the pillows in there and I'll bring everything out."

When they were settled in Bucky's nest, eating dinner he told her about his day at the motorcycle shop, the custom bike he was working on for a client. The customer who had a fit about paying the already agreed upon charges and how a 10% discount shut him up.

Star told him about the progress she was making sorting through her father's business mess, deciding the fate of each individual business and property. And about shopping with Pepper.

Bucky smiled at how she was slowly coming back to the woman he had fallen in love with. Like every layer of her father and John that she pulled back and let go of revealed more of the woman she was meant to be.

They picked out a silly movie to watch and cuddled up closely, Star on his lap, his arms holding her steady. At one point she laughed so hard she pulled away from Bucky and he took the opportunity to look at her in the soft lighting. He was still amazed, every day, that she was here with him, that they might have another chance to be together.

When her laughing calmed down, Star noticed him looking at her.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" She looked down as she felt her face heat up but Bucky gently grabbed her chin and pulled her up to look at him.

He shook his head "No, your face is beautiful. I'm just, I don't know, I'm still in awe and a bit of disbelief that you're here. With me. My Star is here and I'm expecting to wake up from this dream, like I have so many times in the last 3 years." He lowered his voice to a whisper and looked at her with tears in his eyes "Please don't be a dream."

She leaned into him and her lips brushed his so softly he almost couldn't feel it. He kissed her back, thrilling at the feel of her. She deepened the kiss, his mouth sweet and not aggressive like she was used to, when she was kissed at all. His tongue softly traced along the seam of her lips, he wanted her more than he could describe but didn't want to push her. She accepted his tongue and they danced until they both needed air.

Bucky slowly and softly traced his hands down her back, pulling her closer. Star moaned into his mouth, desperate for real affection instead of the way she had been used over the years.

When she felt his hardness pushed up against her, something in Star snapped and she was back in John's bed, she tried to breathe, remind herself that this wasn't him, that sex could feel good for her. She really tried but couldn't stop the images, the feelings and she froze.

Bucky felt her freeze and quickly pulled back to see her eyes were glazed over but before he could say anything she did.

"No, stop. I, nonono, John please. I can't, please" she pushed him away.

Bucky tried to soothe her but she was deep in a memory, thrashing in his arms with tears streaming down her face. "Please John, it hurts. Brock hurt me. Stop. Please."

Bucky relaxed His hold, hoping to keep her from hurting herself and rocking gently, whispering words of love and encouragement. His heart ached for her but he also felt rage over what they had done to his sweet Star. He would kill both of them with his bare hands if he could.

They sat like this for a few minutes until she calmed down, his voice bringing her back to reality.

When she realized what happened she pulled away from him, afraid to look him in the eyes and trying not to cry "I'm so sorry Jamie, it just felt like it took over my brain and felt so real." She glanced up at his face and caught his eyes. They were warm blue, like a tropical sea, and full of concern.

He hesitantly reached out to caress her cheek. She tensed a little but his touch was so warm and safe, he smelled so good. It felt like home and she relaxed, leaning into his hand.

Bucky shook his head "No, Star, don't be sorry. What they did to you was not your fault and forced you to live for survival. Now you will be able to really live but it's gonna take time to relearn." He kissed her forehead "I'll be here for you every step, however you need me."

Star looked at him sadly "I don't know if I can be that woman anymore, Jamie. Even if I find a way to heal, I have lived with the darker side of people for years. I'll never be able to unsee or forget everything."

Bucky smiled sadly "I know, doll. That kind of shit sticks with you. I had some troubles after we came home from Afghanistan. It still fucks me up sometimes but I learned how to live with it. And with myself."

He carefully pulled her back into his arms "You will too, your therapist will help and I'll be here."

Star shook her head and took a deep breath, afraid to say what she felt she had to say to him, in case he...

"Jamie." She said it so firmly that he pulled back to look in her eyes. Her insides fluttered.

"I, uh I don't want you to stay and help me if it's just out of guilt or some sense of obligation. I've already forgiven you and I um..." Her brain froze and her mouth stumbled over the whispered words. "I still love you and want to be with you." She took a breath to steady herself and cleared her throat "But I'm broken, don't know if I'll ever be ok again.

She looked down, unable to face his rejection.

Bucky felt his heart swelling, love for her filling every part of him. "Y/N, my sweet, perfect, shining Star. You are all I want. All I've wanted since the day we met and I will wait as long as you need me to. I'm not going anywhere if I have any say over the matter."

She looked up at him with wide eyes "But why? How can you...still want me? I'm broken. Used. How could you want someone like me?"

"Oh doll, everyone is broken in one way or another. I told you some of the stories from my time in the military or growing up with my POS father. Did you know you were part of my healing? All the shit with my dad, what he did to my mom the rare times he showed up. I didn't know relationships could be like ours. What we had and will find again. Just don't give up on me, on us. Please. Our love is too precious to let go of."

Star saw the love in his eyes and pushed past her fear to let herself trust in it, in him, in them.

"It's getting late sweetheart, lets get some rest." He picked her up and carried her to her bed before stripping to his briefs and pulling her into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Friday woke them up to have brunch with Tony, Pepper and baby Morgan. They had a fun brunch with a couple of drag queens that Pepper knew, listening to show tunes and playing trivia. When they were finished eating, Tony took Bucky to his lab to show him some ideas he had for motorcycle upgrades and Pepper took Y/N to her wardrobe where they indulged in massages, facials and mani/pedi plus champagne and edibles. Pepper hoped to keep Star distracted about the trial starting the next day.

Star was nervous, John and Olivia had been bad mouthing her to anyone who would listen, claiming that Y/N had been the mastermind behind everything that had happened from forcing John to end his relationship with Olivia so she could marry him, to having Sharon end her father.

She knew the evidence supported her version but she had been unceremoniously dumped by a couple of charities that she was involved with and some who backed her therapeutic stable pulled their funding. She could afford to pay for the stables operations but then learned some of the parents pulled riders from her lessons and it broke her heart. All she could do was tell her truth and hope people would come back when they learned what actually happened.

Pepper tried to console her "You know how people can be, over cautious, but the truth will come out and they will come back."

Star nodded in understanding "I know, it's just such bullshit. I haven't even been involved in that program since I married John."

Star had a light dinner with Pepper before having a glass of wine and an edibla with Bucky. They curled up together for a restless nights sleep, visions of worst case scenarios waking her up repeatedly until she gave up and climbed up to the garden on the roof to watch the sun rise.

@pattiemac1 @hhiggs

Chapter 16

[featherchan]

Pushing her bike along the path. Kanako whispered every vivid, colorful profanity word to herself, feeling as if fate were mocking her at her expense. In preparation for a fencing tournament, the young raven had stayed at the school's gymnasium much longer than she had anticipated. Before realizing a little too late, that she only had about 10 minutes to get home. To add to her misery, her bike chain decides to snap and fall off. And when she tries to call her brother to lament her problems, her phone's battery decides to die on her too.

Already angry, frustrated, and physically and mentally exhausted, she dreaded the outcome of coming home late and having to suffer the joint reprimand from her brother and parents. She can only deal with so much, especially given how fragile her patience is these days. And so, the Lioness decided to ignore her late grandmother's warning by taking a shortcut route home, which she had always been forbidden to take. "Kanako-chan, I believe this is a dire idea…" D'eon, her late grandmother's gentle and overprotective spirit guardian, hovered over her. "I don't care! And I don't have the energy to debate with you or argue with my brother when we get home. I just want to get home in peace!" The young raven continued on with her grumbles. And the Lioness never understood why her grandmother always forbade them (her siblings and herself) from taking this route, since nothing ever happened, until now.

Abruptly halted, feeling a chill as the hair on her neck rose. Even on these warm nights, cold breaths escape through her pale pink lips, causing her body temperature to drop drastically. She shivered as the color from her face drained. This was bad. Being reminded of her grandmother's teachings, whenever they felt that way, it meant that a dangerous being that was bound to the living, an ill spirit chained by its own sins, was close by. And with her trembling breath and will, feeling its intense glare on her back, it almost felt like she was facing something deeply evil and menacing, like a demon.

The guardian desperately wanted to shield and guard her charge, yet the blonde female knight could only offer her advice. Whispering to her. "My lady, listen to me carefully. Drop your bike and run." D'eon stays close to her, painfully watching her shiver from the cold and fear. "On the count of 3…" As the knight slowly counts down. "3…" The Lioness quickly ditched her bike and tried to make a run for it, but the spirit was quick and blocked her path.

"Do not look into its eyes…" Did she mention how fate has a funny way of mocking her? Of course. She looks into its eyes, inadvertently giving it the power to control her. Paralyzed, she was unable to break away from its hold or even make a sound. And slowly, as it reached out to her, she felt like an eternity had passed as she pondered each mistake that had been made. Before shutting her eyes tight and awaiting her painful fate.

[ starter for @annienne ]

[bopinion]

2023 / 41

Aperçu of the Week:

"They say in the Middle East: a pessimist is simply an optimist with experience."

(Ehud Barak, former General and Prime Minister of the State of Israel)

Bad News of the Week:

It was always such a thing when a new country was "discovered." Because that always applied only to the usually white seafarer from Europe, because - surprise! - there were, after all, in 99% of the cases already inhabitants on the spot. And in many of these places, unfortunately, the First Nations are still second-class citizens. For example in Australia. But that was about to change. At least that was the plan of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese.

Unfortunately, he was not the only one to be bitterly disappointed. His idea was to give Australia's indigenous people more political influence with a constitutional amendment. They were to be heard only on matters that directly affect them ("voice to parliament"). Only heard - because everything would still be decided in the almost purely white parliament. So, if you want to see it that way, rather a symbolic gesture of respect. And yet a clear majority voted against the project in the corresponding referendum.

"For Prime Minister Albanese it is a heavy defeat," write the newspapers. What then is it for the Aborigines? Indigenous Australians are considered the oldest surviving culture in the world and have populated the continent for more than 60,000 years. They were there first. And yet only come last. Sad.

Good News of the Week:

Germany has a long checkered history with Poland. With dark and light chapters. One would like to speak of a community of fate. First the fall of the Iron Curtain, then accession to the European Union, all will be well. But then strange developments began in our neighbor to the east. Which can be associated with one name: Kaczynski.

The two brothers Lech and Jaroslaw with their PiS party (Prawo i Sprawiedliwosc / Law and Justice) have had a decisive influence on Poland's last 20 years. With their programmatic emphasis on nationalism, EU skepticism, social conservatism, right-wing populism, etc., they were a reliable partner of Hungary's omnipotent Viktor Orban and a declared opponent of Brussels and Berlin. This is also how they campaigned: they did not want to be told anything more from the European Union and especially (by name!) from Germany. A ridiculous distortion of reality. Or a bad joke.

Facing them in the election this Sunday were several opposition parties. And increasingly critical voters, who in some places took to the streets in their hundreds of thousands to take a stand for the independence of the judiciary, for example. Their figurehead, Donald Tusk, can in many ways be seen as the antipode of the Kaczynskis. Among other things, he is an avowed pro-European. Of course, after all, he served for five years as president of the European Council and another three as chairman of the European People's Party.

Tusk is now the real winner. Even if he only came in second place with his Platforma Obywatelska (Civic Platform) party. This is because, unlike the PiS, which is still the strongest party but suffered significant losses, he has the realistic prospect of being able to form a solid parliamentary majority with programmatically compatible coalition partners. "This is an epochal event, comparable to Joe Biden's victory over Donald Trump," writes the news magazine Der Spiegel. Good prospects for Poland. For its neighbor Germany. And for all of Europe.

Personal happy moment of the week:

My son is going to do more sports. And I don't mean esports. But basketball. In the coming week he will do his first workouts. With physical movement. And sweat. I also like the fact that he has already ridden his bike to school 90% of the time this school year, rather than taking the bus. Even if, I suspect, the main reason is that he doesn't have to get up until fifteen minutes later. Anyway, physical exercise is important for a 15-year-old. So I try to pay attention to that. Let's go!

PS: Now he has already been to basketball training for two hours for the first time. And seems to like it. And I like it too.

I couldn't care less...

...that families can now get a low-interest loan from the government to buy a house. For most of us (and especially in the Munich area) it is utopian to be able to afford home ownership either way.

As I write this...

...I am waiting for the new album of The Rolling Stones. For 18 years the probably longest active rock'n'rollers of all times haven't released any new songs. But next Friday the time has come: "Hackney Diamonds" will be released. I'm curious.

Post Scriptum

In the times of the Gaza war, you have to weigh your words carefully. Unlike the Ukraine war, there is no clear assignment of perpetrator and victim roles of two states here. Rather, the line must be drawn here between rulers who act irresponsibly and peoples who endure the consequences of their actions. Have to endure, there is no choice.

On the one hand, there are the terrorists of Hamas (not the Palestinians!), who, ideologically blinded, are causing inconceivable carnage among innocent civilians. On the other hand, there is an increasingly right-wing radical regime in the Knesset that denies the Palestinian people their right to exist and their territorial integrity (keyword: settlement policy in the West Bank). In between are two peoples who are experiencing unbelievable suffering.

Rarely do the EU and China agree, but their joint appeal for a two-state solution will once again go unheard. In this conflict, I cannot take sides with either side. I simply wish that the killing would stop. And that the rulers on both sides can agree on a sustainable peace in the interest of their peoples. But my hope will probably prove to be quite naive once again...