#and for me... one filled with much dumbassery

[cobaltfluff]

the crossovers continue... (2/?) this time it's with re:vale's binary vampire :3c

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 10

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing much really, some smut, some angst, loads of dumbassery.

I'm waiting for you outside.' Is what he texts you on your first day back to work.

'Why?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

Oh, you hated him.

He looks fucking hot, because of course he does, dressed in his usual, but unbelievably attractive, work attire.

The bane of your existence that he is, gives you a nod of his head in greeting.

"I'm driving you to work."

The audacity.

You stop right in front of him, looking up at him evenly, trying your hardest not to smile, or look away, or look down at his lips-

"What makes you think, I want you to drive me to work?"

He returns your stare easily, and if you were any less angry with him, you would have folded.

"I know you don't feel safe, and I want to help you with that however I can."

"I didn't ask for your help, I'm fine on my own." You say obstinately.

A smile pulls on his face for a second, and you feel yourself get even angrier that he would find humor while you stare him down.

"I know you're fine on your own," he says, leaning into you.

You gulp at the praise, taking a step back, he guides you, corrals you, until your back is pressed against his car.

"I know how strong and how capable you are." He follows up, bracing one hand on the car right beside you, you glance down at it, observing the shine of his watch, feeling your heart vibrate rapidly in response to his closeness.

"I think, you're maybe one of the best in your fields- if not the best and I don't think there's much problems you can't fix."

"Uh-" You try to protest.

His other hand pressing against the car on the other side of you makes you shut up really quickly. You look up at him as he looms over you, the scent of jasmine filling your senses, his eyes are even, and dark, demanding your attention.

"But I know security, and your safety is very important to me. So get in the car, and let me at least drive you to work."

Your eyes drop down to his lips.

God, how you want to kiss him. Just throw caution to the wind and slant your mouth against his until you steal his hot breath with each slide of your tongue on his-

Shit. This was not the way you wanted to interact with him today. You wanted to be casual and indifferent, pull away and keep your distance, not think about jumping him the minute he got too close to you.

You knew how he would play this, gentle and earnest now, and then cold to you later. If whiplash was a person, you'd be staring right at him.

You still couldn't shake the way his words made you feel. The way he believed in you so easily made you want to melt into a hot, sticky puddle at his feet.

So you find some common ground, nodding your head in assent, watching him lean away from you. You turn, pulling the door open, and climbing into the passenger seat of his car without looking back.

It's a lot more torment than you can manage. The whole way there, you're thinking about how easy it would be to fuck him in the back seat, have him drop his pants and you'd lift your skirt and sink right down onto him. You wonder what kind sounds he'd make-

"Do you want to pick the music?" He asks easily, unlocking his phone and leaning it your way.

Your hands shake when you take it, picking a song you like and letting it play.

You study him intently, he keeps a straight face as the song plays.

It burns at you to the point where you have to ask.

"What do you think?" You ask evenly, trying your hardest not to ramble.

Do you like it? Do you hate it? I'm sorry if it's shit.

You don't understand why you need his approval so much. Why did it matter to you?

What was it about him, that made you want every ounce of attention he could give you?

"It's good. It's not my specific taste but I like it." He answers, glancing over at you.

You smile.

"It's really funny. I think I have the best music taste but also I'm so insecure about it too." You try to explain, beating yourself up after you say it.

You watch his mouth twitch in amusement.

"That's very cute."

You turn away to look out the window so that he doesn't see how wide you smile.

.

"I just noticed- you got your necklace back." Bily comments, as you sit across from him in his office.

You raise a hand, touching the panther.

"Yeah," You say with a smile, "Someone brought it back for me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

You swallow with a nod, eager to get back to discussing work, trying to reduce the amount of time you spend around him, worried that you'll just keep saying stupid shit.

.

He doesn't like the distance.

The physical chasm between you was hard enough to handle as is, but now you're actively trying to avoid him as much as possible at Anvil.

Sure, the drives to work kept you close, he was able to see you everyday, talk to you, even just a little.

But you'd taken to holding your tongue around him, smiling and nodding, or giving one word answers when necessary.

It was fucking agony.

He wanted that sweet girl back, the one that found difficulty in keeping quiet.

Billy suspected it was in part his fault. He doubted he was the most welcoming face, and he knew sometimes he came across dismissive when he was trying to tamp the beast down, his slipping self control could make him come across as irritable. There was also the guilty feeling in his chest when he got too close. He didn't want to devalue your work in any way.

But keeping you safe had become necessary.

With the robbery happening when he'd been dealing with the full moon, Billy realized that he'd have to be more vigilant.

New York could be so unsafe, and Billy would not let another hurt you.

He swallows angrily when images of the little scratches on your skin materialise in his head.

Killing those men had been necessary. Carving their faces up until they had been barely recognisable, leaving them in a place easily found by the target audience was detrimental.

The predator had been pleased with the shocked faces of those that had observed his work. The message had been clear; tread lightly, there was no criminal organisation out there that could keep anyone safe from him.

.

Billy wakes up when you say his name.

He blinks, sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes when he catches sight of you.

You're dressed in a satin nightdress, his hands clench into fists, eager to get his hands on the material.

He says your name, watches you smile at him as you get closer.

He's not wearing anything, only the black sheets tucked around his lower half protect you from seeing his hardening cock.

You don't seem to mind his state of undress, crawling into his bed, and not stopping until you're straddling his lap, right atop his covered cock.

He groans, and he watches you smile mischievously.

You lean closer, and Billy tilts his head up, closes his eyes, eager to kiss you.

All you do is press your forehead to his, rubbing your nose against the slant of his.

He says your name, a plea, an ask of desperation, begging you not to tease him.

You hum, little fingers wrapping behind his neck, a comforting hand on the edges of shredding his self control.

When he tilts his head up for a kiss, you move your head back.

Your fingers wander, exploring what's yours. Billy closes his eyes and surrenders himself to it, feels the trace of your gentle fingers over his collarbones.

He tilts his head back, all the weight of his torso propped onto his arms keeping him upright. He feels your fingers explore them too, carefully assessing each bicep, each line of his muscle.

He hopes you like it- the shape of his body- he hopes you like what you see.

He lets out a low groan when your fingers trace his chest, his skin tingles in the best way. He feels so open, vulnerable for you, and he can't fathom enough thought to build any walls against you and the way you make him feel.

He lets you explore his torso, eager fingers reaching behind to rub your soft hands against his back. His breath catches when he feels your nails claw against his skin for a brief moment.

He raises his head, tries to kiss you again, only to have you pull back with another teasing laugh.

Why were you punishing him? Hadn't he endured enough torment?

Apparently not, because in the next moment you drop your head to kiss his neck.

"Fuck." He grunts, tilting his head to give you more space to work, letting you kiss his neck to your heart's content.

You let out a hum of delight and his cock jumps, he loves the sounds you make.

You take it as an invitation, beginning to rock your hips against his gently, while you kiss his neck.

When kissing is not enough, he feels your teeth come out to play.

Perhaps you were a predator too.

Biting and licking and kissing his skin and  all he wants to do is give in to you, let you take anything you wanted.

He just wanted to belong to you.

"I'm close." He warns, gasping as your hips speed up, doesn't remember any point in his life where he was this on edge from just someone touching him.

He can't fight it, fingers gripping your hair, pulling your head back so that he can press his lips to yours.

He wakes up, cock aching painfully.

It doesn't take much, just the dip of his right hand below the thin sheets, pretending that his rough palm was really your soft one, and stroking himself to completion easily.

His body heaves in air, post-orgasmic bliss easing the tension in his body.

He sits up, tosses the sheets off with his other hand and moves to clean himself up.

You're still asleep. He can see you through the open curtains of your room.

You'd started sleeping with them open, maybe a day or two now, and the beast hums, contented that he may have factored into you feeling safe in your own home.

You shift, pulling a pillow tightly into your body, tossing a lithe leg over it.

Billy smiles to himself, admiring you curled up, wishing he could be there with you.

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. Your safety came first, and he was making steady progress on that- too much progress for him to stop now.

.

Sometimes he texts you at the end of the work day to tell you that he's waiting by his car for you. Other times, he shows up in your little office space, leaning against the door to look at you steadily until you notice him. Today, it's the former.

You've been doing this little dance for almost a week now, you're not sure how sustainable it is, but you're stubborn, and you refuse to indulge him in any kind of deeper interaction because you know he's just going to pull away again.

It was all muddled in your head, the way you felt about him, and the lengths you went to so that you could hide those feelings, the way he acted toward you, not saying a word to you in the elevator, but holding you so tight after you'd been attacked.

It was obviously, just better to pull away, which you had definitely been trying to do. You knew it would save you a lot of heartache later.

Unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe you were in heartache right now.

You almost fall when you see him.

He's bent over, foot propped against a little ledge built into the wall behind his car, running a soft cloth over the tip of his boot.

He's dressed in partial tactical clothing, tight shirt tucked into combat pants, and your mouth dries up at the very sight of him.

"Billy?" You call, as you make your way to him.

He raises his head, says your name in greeting.

When he catches your eyes roaming the expanse of his chest he looks down.

"Ran some combat sims today." He explains.

You nod, swallowing.

"Right." Is all you say, opening his car door and slipping inside without another word.

You let out a shaky breath.

Holy fuck was he hot. Surface of the sun scorching and even worse when dressed in attire that forced you to think about how he would look using a gun.

God, you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the ache inside of you. This definitely was not helping you pull away from him.

You startle a little when he opens the driver's side door and slips inside.

Your eyes are fixed directly forward, you hear him take a deep breath.

"How was work today?" He asks, his voice hitting a low timbre, still soft despite the rumble.

"Good," You reply, matching his soft tone, uncaring of how innapropriate it might be.

Your clit was aching too much for you to worry about appropriateness.

"I like solving problems." You follow up unnecessarily.

He hums, you squeeze your eyes shut when his car roars to life.

"Are you hungry? We can stop for something on the way home." Billy offers.

Home, because both of you were going to near the same destination.

"I'm okay." You answer tersely, "I'm gonna whip up something at home."

He nods, deep in thought.

"Is it okay if I stop? I'm not feeling to cook for myself today."

Your mouth parts, you turn to him. He glances at you when he notices your movement.

"I can- If- If you want- I'm making pasta and I always make too much-" Fuck fuck fuck, what were you doing? What happened to keeping your distance?

You take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"Would you like to come over for dinner? I'll make pasta. Or it's not a problem if you want to get something else-"

"-I'd like that." He interrupts, and you can't help the heat that flushes throught your body.

"Good." You nod in acceptance, turning away from him to face forward once again, pretending to be casual when really, you could feel the slippery glide of your arousal between your legs.

.

How many times does he have to fight himself, before it's too much?

Your scent fills the enclosed space of his car, your arousal so prominent he can near taste it in the air. It wraps around him, seeps into his every pore, torments him.

The beast rages.

Billy swallows, tightening his already white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel- a few more minutes of this and he's going to damage his car.

He glances over at you, you're typing animatedly into your phone, he studies your hair, memorises it, takes another deep breath.

He wonders how soft the skin of your bare thighs would be, he thinks about the way it would feel against his face.

He takes another deep breath at a traffic light, tries to be calm but the only air he can breathe is full of you.

"Are you allergic to anything?" You murmur, seemingly deep in thought.

He forces himself to think for a moment.

"Allergic- no, but I really hate green beans."

You hum, typing something into your phone.

"No green beans. Got it."

You accept it so easily, you don't ask why, and he likes that. He likes how easy you accept him.

"I don't like broccoli either, and cabbage is on thin ice."

At this, you give a little giggle, he smiles at the sound, feels himself be put at ease.

"I love broccoli, but I hate the way people make it seem that picky kids are a parent's worst nightmare. No one faults adults for being picky. I'm sorry if your parents made you feel bad for not liking what you don't like."

He sighs, blinks, doesn't want to turn the atmosphere sour with his past, but something inside of him itches for the comfort you would no doubt give.

"I don't really have parents." he says softly. He watches you turn to look at him from the corner of his eye.

"You don't?" You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, eyes fixed on the road as the traffic light turns green.

"I grew up in a group home, I don't know if my parents would have made me feel bad or not, but the people that took care of me definitely did." He ends with a humorous tone in his voice, trying somehow to lighten the mood.

He's hyperfixated on every breath you take as you process the information.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"It's-"

"-Are you really going to say it's alright? Was it actually? Did you feel safe and protected? Did you get to have toys and your favourite foods?"

Billy hadn't expected this. No one before had really prodded him after he'd given the brief overview.

"No." He says simply.

"Is that why you hate green beans?"

Right on the money.

"Yes." He answers, vaguely aware that he's shutting down, trying not to overshare his traumatising childhood.

"What's your favourite food?" You inquire softly.

He spares a glance in your direction.

You look at him evenly, Billy can tell your mind is already made up, despite his next attempts to change it.

"You don't have to-"

"-I know. I know I don't, but I want to. I know you're my boss, and maybe this is not the most appropriate thing, but maybe we can be friends too."

He couldn't fight the smile that pulls at his mouth even if he tried.

"Of course we can be friends." He murmurs, sparing another glance from the road to look at your face. Captivating in every way, blissful shelter, in a raging storm.

.

.

.

A/N: What song would you play for Billy that perfectly encapsulates your taste in music?

Mine is either Devil's Advocate by The Neighborhood or Take A Slice by Glass Animals

[seneitut]

Hii!!! I found your work and i LOVE it so much! especially the wordcount!!

if its ok can i request gekko x freader but the f reader is really dom? assertive like gekkos talking but stutters so much and forgets what hes saying when she like looks at him the wrong way **doesnt have to b nsfw but whatever works thanks!

“Quietness”

[Part 1][Part 2] [Part 3]

[Gekko/F!Reader]

Words: 9K (I'm so sorry is this freaking long)

Tags: Fluff, violence, deaths, teachnicality of the game because I miss Ice box, slow-burn, NSFW (+18), Dom!Reader, Sub!Gekko.

[It seems I didn't know how the queue works because I thought this was posted days ago im so sorry gfjnfghgh

You can skip the nsfw part when the words are bold like this, its near the end!]

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

The silence that envelops the common room is ringing deep inside his ears. 

Vibring, trembling, deafening. 

Gekko hates the silence. A reasonable amount, you could say, to not be able to stand it to the point he wants to rip his brain into shreds to stop the thinking and not process the buzzing.

It brings memories he tries to suppress, echoing within the silence and rolling like a corrupted movie behind his eyelids over and over again. Gekko grunts in discomfort, trying to dissipate the images by rubbing his eyes with force until it stings but that doesn’t deter the silence to swallow him whole. 

Since when has he become this dramatic.

He whines loudly, head thrown back, “Why is it so quiet in here, dios!” But finds not even the echo of his voice filling the void.

Most of the agents have left for missions earlier that day, leaving only the most reclusive people at the base alongside him, hence the quietness. 

And it is not like he didn’t want to go—he’s always eager to accompany his allies in battle and have the time to bond with them through killing their counterparts— but the reasoning of Brimstone when assigning the teams is based on whether or not their powers and abilities compliment each other and not how well they get along.

KAY/O and Skye were out on two different teams, so his kits were not really necessary for the mission at all. Sova was out of commission until further instructions after getting injured and Fade was…well, he doesn’t know her whereabouts, but she must surely be busy with something else instead of hanging out with him.

They are on pretty good terms thanks to Neon, so he doubts she would avoid him on purpose. The only reasonable option would be that she was busy. And Breach? Breach is Breach, the man is unable to stay still in one place so he must definitely be either hitting the gym or committing crimes. Not really of his taste.

That only left him, the last initiator, back at home. 

Most of the sentinels were with him at the base; but like the cliché they are, none of them were eager to share their spaces with others nor entertain him in, how did Chamber put it…´dumbassery´ of sorts. 

Rude, honestly. Gekko is not at fault that they don’t know how to have fun outside missions. 

“I’m surprised to see you here.”

Whipping his head around, he finds you leaned on the doorway with a clipboard on hand. The dark shades you’re wearing do not give away whether you’re surprised or emotionless to his presence here, which, in retrospect, wasn’t important to know. 

He’s just happy someone is here to make the silence go away.

“I’ve got no missions today!” Turning his body around, he rests his head on the back of the couch to get a better view of you without breaking his neck. “I thought you left with Sage hours ago. Weren’t you going to…uh, what was it called…”

Frowning in concentration, he tries remembering the name of the place you were to set off, but none came to mind. Ice cube? Ice mountain? It had something to do with ice and something something…right?

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from your thinking alone.” The subtle smirk on your face was noticed by him, pouting by the teasing. “Sage is unable to go to Ice box with me.”

“Ice box, that’s it!” Sitting down on the couch next to him, he continues. “So, what's up? Change of plans now?”

Nodding, you go through the pages in the clipboard before raising your eyesight to him. Gekko seems eager, if not a little energetic for someone who has nothing to do. He seems expectant as well, jittery and a little fidgety with how often he toys with his gloves.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you ponder whether it's a viable idea to ask him to duo with you on the task that was assigned. Although you don’t have the energy to deal with someone like him: a little chatterbox and full of energy; his abilities might come in handy if the situation calls for it.

But this is an important mission, and you haven't worked with Gekko before. It would be a gamble whether the mission goes well or not and you’re not sure if you want to put something this important on line.

Gekko waves his hand in front of your face, a frown apparent on his features, “Hola? Are you okay there?”

Avoiding his question you decide to deflect it with another one, “Do you know where Cypher is?”

“In his room I think? I tried going in but I got tangled with his tripwires at the entrance and he just shut me off.” Crossing his arms, he sighs. “I’m kind of tempted to think he doesn’t like me very much.”

No shit. Who goes inside another’s bedroom without asking first? And Cypher, above all, is such a secretive man it is no wonder he loves to hide his secrets under lock and blackmail to keep it safe; the worst person to skip over pleasantries and ignorance was him. 

Gekko has pissed him off, then. Great. Out of options.

“So he is in no mood, got it.” 

“What do you even need him for? Such a grumpy man to work with.”

With no desire to argue, you leave Gekko to run his mouth about why he is so pissed about most sentinels at the protocol and how little social life they all have to be wasting it holled up in their rooms.

The need to defend Cypher is big, but you know the man has cameras all over the place and you don’t want to say something out of pocket in his presence—digital presence, in truth—or worse, out yourself with the soft spot you have for the secretive man.

Cypher wouldn't let it die down.

“...And you know, I tried speaking with Brimstone about having activities inside the protocol to strengthen our partnership, friendship, whatever the heck we are so we can be more trusting to each other!” Rolling his eyes, he huffs loudly. “But he said no, because this is not a fraternization house and I should take my work more seriously.”

“He is not wrong.” You comment absently.

“But I feel like it is necessary!” He continues. “How can we be a team if we aren't on friendly terms?”

“Not everyone will be your friend, Gekko.” Sighing, you stand up and begin to leave. “You cannot force yourself into others just to fulfill your need to get along. If it happens, happens, if it doesn't work, just let it be.”

“B-but, wait! Where are you going?”

Raising the clipboard, you move it slightly to let him know you still have things to do instead of indulging in his little chat. 

“I'm busy. And I need this done by today.”

“But you don't have to leave!”

Frowning, you turn around to see him slouched over the couch with a pout on his face and a look that begs for you to stay. 

You're not easily swayed by childish behavior from people you don't know. It didn't work on you as one might assume from your laid back personality, which most confuses it as rudeness, but this kind of attitude is what you hate the most.

If Gekko doesn't confront you about why he doesn't want you to leave, you won't hear him out. If he isn't honest, then you won't entertain him any longer.

“See you later, kid.”

Not even two steps ahead, you stop dead on your tracks when you hear him whine loudly. 

He's not even looking at you, eyes downcast and making sad noises; like a kicked puppy. It makes you question how old is this kid to be throwing a tantrum because he doesn't have his friends around.

This is not your problem, though, you can just keep walking away and try your luck with either Chamber or Killjoy to fulfill your task instead of lounging around and wasting time. But deep inside, there is a little fire that has been ignited by seeing someone like him acting so pathetic that you just want to strangle him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You spat with anger. Uncalled for, since he's done nothing wrong. “Fucking childish.”

Gekko looks offended by receiving such rude treatment in a single question that his sad façade is forgotten.

“Why are you—!” He exclaims. “¡Háblame bonito!”

“I don't understand spanish, you dumbass.”

“Speak nicely to me!” 

“I am speaking nicely. I don't get why the fuck you're so childish about this. Do you want something from me? Then say it.”

“I don't want anything from you! I just wanted some company but you're leaving like the rest do!” Huffing in frustration, he scratches his head in an attempt to subside his irritation. 

“You never said you wanted company, what am I, a mind reader? And why is that a reason to be acting like a brat? Grow up!”

“No, you grow up! You are so irritating!”

Scoffing, you close the distance slightly, hovering over his form with a menacing aura and scowling at his defensive stance.

Gekko is frowning, his hazel eyes holding back a fury only he could comprehend but softens ever so slightly when you approach him and, if your eyes don't deceive you, his cheeks reddens when his sight roams your body now that he had a new angle from you.

He stammers when he asks you to back off, eyes to the side and fidgeting on his seat.

You fix your shades before starting, “I told you I can't stay, I've got work to do yet you insist on me staying to fulfill your own desire? Don't be selfish.”

“Am not…”

“You are. Stop pretending that this isn't to make you feel better.”

Gekko's eyes widened in embarrassment, “Yeah? What if I am! Is that something wrong to wish for?”

“No, only immature.” Checking the time, you decide this has taken too long “I've gotta go.”

“Nadie nunca se queda de igual manera. Go off, just leave already.”

You sigh. 

Is never easy to confront others about the feelings bothering their minds and souls, and you know a person is easy to rile up if you press their buttons constantly. 

You've heard of the happy Gekko at all times, bringing laughs and smiles to his fellow friends and filling that void of a friend if needed—but who does the same for Gekko when he needs it?

Usually the happy people you encounter like him are the most troubled within their hearts. You don't want to be pointing fingers, but this boy has some deep issues with solace and individuality. It makes you wonder if he's ever had a healthy friendship or a healthy relationship in general.

Because now that he's this angry, he could use some emotional support to go through his feelings and what wrongs he's done.

Capable of angering someone like him should be a feat, but besides that, you must have acted terribly for him to get to this point of annoyance.

Gekko seems really upset, but mostly, he looks so worn off that you pity him for whatever he's going through. 

God, you cannot leave without resolving this first. Is going to nag your brain with guilt if you don't make amends with him.

“I apologize for my behavior.” You begin, Gekko levels you with a skeptical look. “Let’s try this again: I’m busy, I can’t stay, and sorry about that. The others might return later today if you’re patient enough.”

“Yeah, in hours maybe, or never.”

“Have a little faith there.” you shrug. “Aren't they your friends? They are coming back for sure, don't worry too much.”

“It's not only that.” He says. “I- um, I don’t like the silence here, it's too deafening, you know? I just wanted some noise, something to fill in while I wait. I keep talking and talking now because I don’t want it to be quiet.”

“Yeah, I quite get it. Still, I'm sorry about earlier.”

“I accept the apology because it really was rude of you to snap like that.” Gekko sighs, “Why did you even react like that? Like, what prompted you to do that?”

How do you explain to him you don’t even know exactly why you’ve snapped at him?

Perhaps you won’t. There is a small idea planted that you don’t want to dwell on because it would be too embarrassing to admit and you don’t think Gekko would appreciate your thoughts.

“Didn’t have a good day.” You lie. He seems to buy it. “Shouldn’t have taken it on you, though.”

Gekko nods and offers a small smile. Things seem to have calmed down for now and the other looks a little better than before, which is good in your opinion.

“Go,”  He nudges your arm with his finger, smiling. “I think Cypher really likes you in comparison to us, if you ask him, he might go with you.”

Ah, clever boy. 

“Maybe, I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

Waving your goodbye, you take your time to regard him silently before walking away from the common room, sighing in tiredness and stress consuming you entirely when you’re finally out of his vision.

This is not how you expected the day to be going. You expected nothing; just to do your job, return to the base and maybe get a nice glass of wine—you feel like trying your luck and figure out if today is the day you’re gonna like the beverage—puke from disgust because you will probably still hate it and take a long ass nap.

But by the looks of it, maybe you're doomed to solo this.

God you won’t be able to finish this alone.

Going back your steps, you reach the common room once again, startling Gekko who seemed to be playing with his knife. He takes a moment of consideration, gaping like a fish out of water before realization dawns on him.

You raise your hand before he can even say a word, watching his smile stretch to a grin while he waits for you to give him the chance to say something.

“I’ll offer this once: I’m going to Ice box, and I need a partner for this specific mission, are you up to this?”

Gekko didn’t even let the question be finished, jumping from the couch with a loud: ‘Hell yeah!’ and a fistpump in the air, a bright smile adorning his face. Doing him once over, you decide that the deed is done and now there is no turning back.

Take it or take it.

“We leave in five, be ready at the launching site or else I’m leaving without you.”

With that final warning you take off to gather your equipment. 

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

Ice box is not like it used to be. 

Throughout the time you’ve been working for the protocol, this place has changed a thousand times. You don’t even remember how it was supposed to be in the first place, but your best guess is the omega agents had something to do with it: the cargo ships, the laboratories, everything has been modified to their convenience thanks to kingdom. 

You are thankful enough that at times that this place has been in danger, your team has been able to stop the detonation of the spikes and prevent further catastrophes. Either you knew the place better than them or their teams weren’t able to catch up with how fast you did the retake of the sites.

Luck was on your side, you suppose.

This time, however, you won’t need any of that to complete the mission.

Go in, download the data, steal the samples if there is some, and get the fuck out of there.

You wish your duo were someone able to surveillance while you get what you need, but it is okay, you can make it work. Gekko will keep watch while you gather the info, or maybe he can go and inspect the samples near the kitchen so the work can be doable and quick to do. 

“Damn, this place is huge!” Gekko watches around him with wonder in his eyes and excitement pouring from every word uttered. “And so fucking cold, god, what the fuck.”

The wind seems to have gotten stronger after many months of keeping this place barred from people. The blizzard was picking up fast, making the snow rise with strong bursts of air and freezing you to the bone. Your shades were getting covered in snow quite quickly and you were annoyed you had to clean them up often. A bit more and your fingers will become windshields.

Gekko was wearing his usual fit, which is not proper for this kind of weather. Either he was going to die from hypothermia or worse, become an actual ice statue with the lack of clothing. This is partly your mistake for not warning him on time before taking off; you cannot expect people to travel somewhere called Icebox and not be aware that it might be a cold place.

“Here, warm yourself up.” Taking off your coat, you fix it on top of his shoulders until he pops his arms through the armholes. He sighs, burrowing his face on the fur covering his neck and shyly inhaling your scent.

Smiling at him, you pat his head gently and begin your walking towards the rafters on A site. The turtleneck you’re wearing should be enough to cover you until you reach the surveillance room. Being a closed space, you guess the old scientists might have a heater installed; and if they don’t, you are going to curse their entire lineage for this crime.

Is pretty cold out here, your supposition that people might still linger around the area is close to none, so you can breathe in peace for the time being.

“Hey, aren't you cold?” Gekko treks besides you, catching up with your quick pace. “You're not wearing much, I'm sorry I had to take this from you.”

“It’s okay, I’ve worn less when I had to come here and fight for our lives, this is alright.” Is not and your chattering teeths gives away how cold you were getting. 

Gekko stretches his arms out, wiggling his hands to signal you to come to him and you cannot help but raise a brow at his antics. Rubbing your hands together to breathe in some warm air you ignore him to reach the destination.

The site is clear, quiet, and echoing the footsteps you fear someone might hear it. Gekko is keeping the silence still, and you wish he would speak or say something so the atmosphere would not be perceived as…deathly.

Is way too quiet.

“I need to download some data from the main room, it might take a while until I find what I’m looking for.” You comment, Gekko nods. “I need you to reach the kitchen and find the secondary lab to take some samples. Remember the pictures I’ve shown you on the jet? We need to take them back to base for Killjoy to analyze them.”

“You got it boss!” He exclaims, saluting you. 

“Once you’ve got them, return here. Is better to stick together, but knowing this won’t take you long, we will separate for a while.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna be gone forever, you know?” He sets off, giving a slight wave in your direction. 

That brings a grin to your face. 

Opening the compartment where most of the computers are located frightens you a bit. The metal doors sound like they need maintenance with how rusty they crack while opening, scaring you to the bone with how loud it is. 

Everything inside the room seems impeccable and things are where they are supposed to be. Most of the computers are off right now, except for one that is stuck in the far corner of the room, the screen on sleep mode and projecting a small animation of the logo of Kingdom. Is warm inside, too, which you are thankful for so you can shake off the coldness chilling you.

There is no password required when you move the mouse, the desktop greets you with multiple files organized on the side and you wonder if this should feel easy to scavenge through kingdom’s most important secrets.

Don’t mind the hours put into learning how to hack into computers taught by Cypher, you are going to get the info and get out of here as soon as possible.

Getting the usb from your back pocket, you put it in and wait for it to load. Drumming your fingers, you get a glimpse of A site from the window and admire the pristine and cleanliness it maintains while you wait. One of the reasons this place has always given you the chills, is how weird it works. 

Despite how often it snows, none of it gets inside. As if it avoids entirely to be dirtied by it. Does it have to do with any of the inventions they’ve worked on here? Could it be that it had something to do with the experiments they’ve tested on Yoru’s ancestors' armors? An invisible shield?

Ping!

The computer loads the usb without problems, the work starts here.

Going file through file might take a while, but you hope this doesn’t take longer than what you expect. 

There are some files already open that you think will go over first. Some titles you don’t understand quite well, but there are profiles from the alpha agents that have the basic information one might get if the both worlds share the same fates.

Some are coordinates to cities that still exist in their world and the current location of every omega agent. All their data, every single mission they’ve been assigned and their contact information is there, in open sight.

This is no coincidence. Someone had left this on purpose for you to find, but why?

You decide to dwell on it later, copying every data of importance to the usb and reading the remaining files. Paragraph through paragraph, each sentence you read is worse than the other and the horror it hides behind this screen is worse than you imagined.

Who keeps this on a scientist computer? 

Unless this isn't information saved here. All you've encountered here has been placed exclusively for someone to find, with a purpose.

Oh, fuck.

Who else knew? Besides you and Sage, there has been no one else this mission has been talked about. 

Brimstone and Viper are both very picky with whoever they share important details about kingdom or omega earth; unless there is a rat in your forces, you doubt anyone else would snitch it out.

You trust Cypher with your life, and after learning what's going on with his counterpart, you doubt it could be him. Killjoy is a no-no, she is Brimstone protegé and someone who you cherish very much.

There is only one centinel left whom you found nothing inside these files.

You cannot grasp the why, though.

Someone who wanted to warn you about this and knew you were coming to gather the information that was left long ago—why would he expose himself like this? 

You were tasked to figure out the experiments on radiants and the power the armor from Yoru's ancestors held; to find the correlation to the spike and the radianite they so desperately wanted to steal.

They have an intel too, sharing the information openly and creating a bridge of knowledge for both sides without actually involving any party.

The intel is here.

And Gekko is alone.

Taking the usb with the information it loaded, you run out of the computer room towards the kitchen with rapid footsteps.

Your heart is pounding wildly inside your chest, terrified of anything happening to Gekko while you were not there to help. 

Tapping on your comms, the only answer you get while calling out Gekko's name is pure static; that only heightens your worry.

There is a small chance he might be alright and is only messing around while he waits for you to finish. Maybe he's only exploring the sites freely because no one is here and you are just paranoid and overthinking stuff.

The blizzard has gotten stronger for the past hour, covering almost everything outside in big piles of snow and picking up air currents. It made the running impossible to do and the desperation to get a hold of your senses, making you feel like your steps were slower or simply not enough.

“If he's okay I'm going to murder him myself.” you take the mental note, worried sick and furious.

Once you've arrived at the door frame from the kitchen, you are quick to notice the door to the lab is wide open. There is no sign of your partner nor anything to indicate there has been a fight here. Some things are messed up in the lab so you could only assume it was his doing while searching for the samples.

But where is Gekko? Where the fuck did he go that he is unable to answer the calls?

Going down the hallway you stop dead on your tracks when you pick up the faint sound of ticking. Above the raging weather, it is impossible for you to not recognize that awful sound.

Taking out your ghost, the only weapon you brought with you, you swing on the corridor to B site. There is a Fade holding the angle, she seems bruised and worn off, but still holds onto her phantom with the strength she has left.

You fail your first shot, which is fatal because she injures your leg with one of her bullets before you can land one through her head. You gasp in pain, leaning on the doorway and breathing in heavily while her dead body falls to the side.

The cold is not helping the wound at all, feeling the tender skin burn under your touch and friction against the tight clothing. You're not sure the bullet has exited the appendage and don't want to figure it out now, that’ll be a problem for your future self.

Gekko is your priority. 

Biting back a pained groan, you rush your walking to get the weapon, leaving the ghost strapped to your waist.

Hovering over the threshold, you are quick to spot Omega Chamber holding the angle to snowman, undisturbed and unaware one of his teammates has died. The loudness of the blizzard could be in your favor right now, since you didn’t know how many of them were left and the comms were unavailable for all of you.

The best option was to back off to the entrance to snowpile and jump down. From that distance Chamber won’t be able to detect you and you will have a chance to lower their numbers.

Reloading the gun, you follow your plan until you are close to B site. 

You didn't want to use your powers, always having faith in your aim and supported your missions with that alone.

On this occasion, there is no other option left.

Taking the shades off, you breathe in deeply, holding onto the phantom tightly and canalizing the energy from the spike ticking down. 

One of the reasons you fear your powers is when the spike is down. 

The longer you use it, the faster the ticking goes and closer to exploding, exposing everyone to its danger. There is some sort of connection from the radianite it extracts to what you can do—experimentations that has been done to you before the first light to tranform you into a radianite magnet and localize them for kingdom. 

Is a bad memory to reminiscent, painful to the core.

But if you want to get out, if you want to find Gekko, you have to become the monster you've swore to never be.

When you open your eyes, you can see your reflection in one of the cargo boxes in front of you. Your eyes are designed like waves of a radius, ring after ring moving outwards and magnetizing—demonic.

The white of the sclera and the red of the rings, Viper once mentioned how evil you look like this, which made you self conscious as to how the others might perceive you. The shades you so dearly hold onto you was taken when you killed your counterpart once. 

It belonged to her, the you from another world, and the little thought that you were no different after all made you upset and sad.

It's scary, seeing yourself like this after so long of denying your nature, is terrifying not knowing what's going to happen now.

Once upon a time, you thought it matched your vibe, but those times are long gone after the many mistakes you've made while using it.

There is no time to dwindle in the past.

Every vitals from every person within the spike radius shows in front of your eyes; where are they hiding, what are they holding, and between them, Gekko lays on the floor, unmoving.

The feeling of bubbling anger chokes you, and you cannot help the hellish cry before swinging to a Sage next to the spike and head shooting her.

You can feel the life of her becoming one with the energy of the radianite when she finally dies, going back to where it belonged once.

There is another person hiding behind the yellow box, another a little far behind near their spawn and Chamber has not stopped holding snowman even after shooting Sage who was almost right next to her. You pay him no mind, perhaps he hasn't heard you yet—you've gotta act quick.

Running to yellow, you quickly swing with the phantom and shoot Yoru in the head, but he bursts into a bright light, blinding you for a moment before you see the actual one shooting you with a bulldog.

Many bullets go past you, but as soon as it makes contact with you, your body swallows them. Yoru makes such a disgusted face seeing your body contort to accommodate the new hosts before dropping dead.

Gekko's body is right behind him, wounds littering his skin and your coat covered in amounts of blood it freezes your heart for a moment.

You know he is alive thanks to the vitals of radianite inside his body, but you fear you might lose him if you were to stick here. 

Reloading your gun, you throw his whole body on your shoulder. You've gotta take advantage while in this mode, strength won't be lasting for long with how close the spike is to exploiting.

Gekko grunts in pain when you start running, you mentally apologize to him but won't slow down.

Is not until you reach snowman that you finally hear the spike detonate.

Weakness takes hold of you and, without the energy from before and the bullets that Yoru shot you, new wounds start opening up, making you tumble down onto the snow with Gekko by your side.

The boy wakes startled, gasping for air and choking onto his own blood while looking around him. When he spots you shaking next to him, he crawls next to your side to cradle your head, unaware of the many wounds hurting him.

Turning to your side, you finally make eye contact with Gekko, happy to see him awake and somewhat okay despite his injuried. Before you can ask him yourself if he's okay, he lets off a scream, backing off until you are no longer touching. 

The terrified expression on his face should be enough to offend anyone, but dizzy and tired with the whole play you've done, you cannot figure out why he is making that expression.

Until you blink. 

You are not wearing the shades.

It must have fallen off when you ran away from the detonation and didn't notice because of the rush of adrenaline. He is staring right into you, an expression you are not able to discern through the wisps of blizzard and ice cooling you down. 

“Tsk, tsk. You've gotten away, then.”

Your hair stands on its ends, turning slowly until you see Chamber hovering over your form with his weapon in hand. Gekko gasps, choking in his own blood until his throat is sore and hurting, but closing the distance until he has you within reach.

Chamber looks down at you, his operator aiming right at your head while you try to hide Gekko’s body behind you. The poor boy grunts in pain, eyes wide in fear and body trembling for the loss of blood; he can’t even utter a word after what has happened.

Is this how you both die?

There is one shot, a second one follows after that and Chamber clicks on his comms.

“The subject was found dead.” Is what he says, to your horror. There are two holes next to your leg where he's shot, clearly missing the target. “I’ve dealt with his partner as well, I’ll be going back as soon as the spike radius goes down.”

There is a conversation going on between him and the Viper that escaped before the spike detonated. The chance of jumping him while lowering his guard is high, but would prove it to be fatal if his reflexes are sharp with the shotgun he has strapped on his hip.

Giving a brief glance at Gekko, you are safe to assume he will be okay for the time being, but not for long if Chamber decides to act on his words. 

Moving slowly, you try to reach for your knife. Maybe if you’re quick enough, you can slice his neck and leave with his weapon.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He warns. There is not an ounce of pity in eyes, which confuses you as to what he wants to do with you both.

“If you’re going to kill us, why prolong this? I knew you were sick to the head, but not to this point.”

Walking slowly around you, he regards you with quietness and a pensive expression. The closer he gets, the more you cover Gekko with your body to create some sort of shield against the other. 

You know you wouldn’t be able to do anything if he were to manhandle you or hurt your partner; the amount of blood pooling around you was alarming enough to not do anything drastic.

“I’m taking a look.” Is his answer. With the barrel of the gun under your chin, he raises your head with gentleness. “You’ve never given me the chance to see you in action, I’m taking the time admiring those beautiful eyes you have there. Enchanting, aren’t they, kid?”

Gekko frowns at his words, with the last of his strength he scowls at Chamber and holds your arm with a weak grip.

“Territorial as well, how amusing.”

He straps the operator on his back, extending a hand to you. “Stand up. Time is running out for you and they won’t take long before they ask why I’m taking so long.”

Accepting the offering hand, you let go of Gekko to support your weight on Chamber. The moment you’re on your two feet, Chamber feels the sharp sting on his neck of your knife threatening to cut the skin. He tries to reach for his shotgun, but the pressure of the knife gets the better of him and he stops.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You warn. He laughs at that. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t slice your throat and leave you to die.”

“Just kill him!” Gekko chides in, frightened. “He’s the bad guy, anyway!”

“Now, now, that’s not the way to treat your comrades, is it?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spat, hand trembling with anger seeping out of you. 

“You better get running, the spike radius has gone down by now. I have to report back that your bodies were sadly disintegrated by the explosion so there is no proof of you leaving.” Pointing at the pile of snow covered in crimson, he continues, “The blizzard has not gone down yet, it will be no time until your trail is covered if you leave by now.”

“Why should I let you go alive?”

Smiling, he coyly asks back, “Say, who do you think gave you the information you have now? Quite promising, isn’t it?”

Dropping your arm, you let him go easily. Chamber doesn't strap his gun off nor threatens you when he makes distance, giving you the time to compose yourself and think for a moment what will be the course of the situation.

Gekko hiss loudly, gasping for air when the current gets colder. Not even giving a look at Chamber, you fall to your knees to get your partner before he hits the floor. 

You need to leave.

With your busted leg and the last of your strength, you try to carry Gekko on your back. Chamber approaches then, to help you on your feet with the boy secured on you.

“I'm sorry…” Gekko whispers in your ear, coughing up some blood and sniffing back some tears. You shush him softly, holding his legs tightly.

“Is alright, Gekko, I'm going to take you back home.”

He hums, nuzzling your neck. His cheeks are freezing, “With you?” he asks, words slurring.

“Yeah, Gekko, with me.”

Nodding to Chamber, you start walking away.

“Give my regards to my counterpart, I bet he is doing fantastiqué!” 

You don’t turn back, ignoring his words and moving forwards where you left the jett. Gekko has long passed out, having his full body weight on you slows the trail to safety, but you won’t be leaving him behind just because of a little setback.

Your only hope is he is going to be okay by the end of this.

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

Reporting back everything that happened feels like a far off dream you wouldn't believe your tale if you were to not be there. 

From the files, to the samples Gekko did get and held onto them so he could fulfill his mission; you think you deserve a little rest.

Your conversation with omega Chamber still nags your brain, leaving many questions unanswered and many things inconclusive. There is no one you can confide this information to; you decide to keep it out of the report.

Gekko seems to be recovering well—Sage did an amazing job calming you down when you arrived at the protocol. Worried sick and begging her to please heal him as a priority, she did not fight you and complied with the request. 

The boy has said nothing from the moment he woke up and has avoided talking with anyone but you. Being sedated and under many medications to his full recovery, he only has asked for you to accompany him while bedridden.

Gekko is cute under the effects of sedatives.

He asks for your hand to hold his, to please talk to him to avoid the silence, to kiss him on the forehead and whatnot; you are amused by his straightforward attitude, and appreciate the direct requests with pure intentions—you don't fulfill his requests, much to his dismay, but do talk to him softly to help him sleep better.

One would think that after such a mission and adventure you both went, the relationship would change eventually. 

Under sedatives it looked like, all cuddly and emotional—but after he was discharged and time passed by, it was the opposite.

Gekko is acting weird.

Weirder than you think he could get.

Confidence is something that oozes off him constantly, finding him caught off guard is not right nor an event that happens often; so you wonder, why does everytime you cross paths with him it seems like he gets scarred for life.

He gets all flustered, stammering over his words and fumbling hands all over the place trying to excuse himself, avoiding your gaze like it was the plague itself, and then escaping from wherever room you are situated.

There is no moment where you can go and stop him because he always finds a way out. Is bothersome and annoying that his childish behavior gets the better of him instead of confronting you about whatever has happened or is bothering him.

“Say now, what have you done to our new residential kid?” Cypher asks, tinkering with his camera. “He seems…skittish around you, haha.”

Grunting, you kick him under the table until one of your hits gets him. “Gekko is acting so fucking weird. I’m not in the mood to entertain you with my dramas, you devious man.”

He chuckles, caressing his offended appendage after your attack, “Devious, you say? I’m stating the obvious, the eyes don’t deceive from what I’ve observed, dear.”

“Oh, yeah?” Crossing your arms, you dare him to keep talking. “Go on, then, speak.”

Leaving his tools on the table, he leans in one of his arms, his whole posture seems to change from the relaxed stance towards a more formal one. “Everything comes with a price, my dear. Nothing is free in this world.”

“Your annoying self is.”

Cypher hums, fascinated, “Is it now? Go on, you know what I want to know. Tell me, and I’ll offer the knowledge of what’s going on with Gekko.”

Drumming your fingers against the table, you consider his offer for a moment. 

The weight of the information he is offering is not worth what you know. What you’re asking for is a more personal matter. What Cypher is asking for could potentially endanger the protocol and its integrants if mistakenly shared with the wrong people. And under an oath, it is impossible for you to disclose it to him this easily. Brimstone would have your head on a stick if he were to know.

The keyword here in play is know.

Cypher won’t tell a soul, there is no unless, you know he won’t tell a soul so there is nothing to lose here.

Maybe a little bit of dignity because you’re this distraught over a boy, something you thought were beyond and above, but that is a matter for you to figure out later.

“We found part of the coordinates of the omega agents, most are scattered around their world, without the need to survive nor coexist within the same space like we do because the first light happened but the catastrophe was completely different. They are seen as heroes, not villains.” You begin, Cypher leans in, interested. “Brimstone seems to believe they are using radianite to support their own world and create matter from the power it gives them since they can’t afford to. Their world is dying at a fast pace, so the attacks with spikes might occur sooner than we think.”

“How so?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sure, Killjoy is investigating that aspect as we speak right now. I don’t think they are going to share that information with me nor any of us except Viper and, perhaps, Sage. And until we get assigned another mission, we have to pretend everything is under control.”

“Anyhow, we’ve got another problem.” You sigh, “There is one amongst us who is giving the omega counterparts our information, and vice versa. Viper seems to believe it could be Chamber—so do I, but we have no proof to support the supposition. They’ve yet to discuss how to tread in to obtain more information.”

Keeping the conversation you had with omega Chamber as a secret might be the wrong move, but if you can work on the shadows and try to get in contact with him once again, maybe you will get a lead as to how to read their moves before they act.

Risky, but willing to test it out.

“Anything else?”

Thrumming against the surface, you consider whether to share this tidbit of information to him or save it for yourself. Because, how do you tell the man who has lost everything and everyone, that his counterpart has been able to get his wife and kid back, unlike him? 

Cypher has been your friend for many years, you cherish him enough to not want to hurt him in any way; for his sake, this will also die with you.

“Nothing more, is just a summary of what I was able to get.”

Cypher hums, contemplating your words and the information given before nodding, satisfied with what he’s learnt.

“Gekko seems to have developed quite the feelings for you, dear.” He announces after a moment. Blinking, completely caught off guard, you scowl at him.

“I’ve given you all the information I've gathered so you could laugh in my face, fucker?” Cypher watches your hands close into fists, holding back the need to punch him in the face. “What else, are you going to tell me he is in love or something?”

“But he is!” He defends himself, both of his arms shown in surrender. “Is it not my fault the boy is completely enamored with you now, you can ask him yourself.”

“You are an idiot.”

He laughs, “Maybe, but in matters of love, dear, one is not deceived so easily. Gekko is in love, if not a little obsessed with you now. Say, you don't know how he looks at you when you're distracted.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “He's scared of me, I think.”

“Says who?” Going back to his camera, he keeps going, “If only you were to see how much he hates our close relationship, or how heated his gaze is whenever I approach you. Ah! Young love, murderous and territorial.”

“Someone said something like that before…”

“See? Eyes do not deceive what we perceive.” Cypher chuckles, putting his tools back into its bag. “He won't make a move, and it is up to you whether you want to pursue something with this kid or simply start bedding someone else until he gets the idea, hm?”

“You are disgusting.”

“But I'm not wrong. Better break his heart now than later.”

If Cypher isn’t dead by the end of your little chat, it is only because of the years you’ve known each other or else the protocol would be one less man on their lines. 

Something he’s said is true though, you can ask Gekko directly the fuck is going on with him to solve the problem. Bedding someone else is not an option, disgusted by the many men inside this place, Gekko and Phoenix are the only ones you might consider handsome and eye candy in your opinion.

You have the lingering suspicion that what happened at Ice box had something to do with his shift and new perspective of you. Which you find unfair, since all you did was try to save your asses and he was only awake partly through the end.

Why would your eyes be of enough importance for Gekko to run away from you? Something wasn’t adding up here. Nothing about what Cypher said of Gekko's newfound love for you made sense with the way he was acting. It could almost pass up as if he was afraid of you, right?

No matter. You are going to find out one way or another.

Gekko finds that you can be terrifying when you really want to, finding you hanging and waiting in the darkest corner of the base to ambush him or worse, kill him. Is a ridiculous thought, in truth, he doesn’t think you would be capable of such a thing.

But right now, after what’s transpired on Ice box and witnessing how fierce, methodical, hot, you were, he is sure you can snap him like a toothpick and he won’t complain. Which is why he is so concerned! That is the main reason why he’s so scared right now, because if you asked him to bend over, Gekko would do it without hesitation! 

Too much, that’s way too much. His own thoughts are embarrassing, and he doesn’t know what he’s capable of when you’re in the vicinity. He needs to keep his libido in check or else he’s going to burst if you were to direct a word at him.

But of course, life never wants to give him a moment to breathe in peace.

You are able to corner him once his practice is done in one of the empty hallways of the base. 

Patience has been a key in the whole process of waiting for Gekko to be left alone. The boy seems to be surrounded by people all the time, which infuriates you because you wanted nothing more than to squeeze out the information from the source from the moment your conversation ended with Cypher.

Gekko looks like a second away from passing out with his red face and how hard he is shaking from the close distance. You thought if you were to put your arms and cage him with no way to run, it would be easy to talk to him, but he isn’t even looking at you!

There is no moment to waste, “Gekko, have I done something to you? Something to offend you?”

“N-no.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? We’ve literally gone through a life threatening situation together and now you won’t just direct a word at me?” 

He whines low, eyelids lowering and refusing to meet you in the eyes—or the shades, to save yourself some embarrassment— and something about his voice, the way he is acting so vulnerable and weak, ignites the same fire inside you like it did the first time; and to your horror, you are able to discern it wasn’t anger what you were feeling that day, but something entirely different.

Great, now are two who are flustered enough that the conversation won’t be able to go on.

Gekko gulps loudly, eyes darting everywhere except your face and fidgeting slightly. 

On a sudden rush of adrenaline and braveness, you take your shades off, closing it and hanging it on your shirt. Once the other gets a hang of what you’re trying to do, his eyes widen in panic. But by then it was too late.

Your fingers close on his chin, making him raise his whole face to level with yours and finally, his hazel eyes make contact with yours.

Is a gamble, but you are ready to accept whatever happens here.

There is a whole shiver that runs down his spine when he tries to speak, stuttering over his words but his eyes never leave yours. Too many things, so much blabbering of his trying to fill in the silence to keep his hammering heart at bay, you’re getting tired of it.

Unspoken things sometimes should stay that way, unspoken.

Your lips crash against his on a bruising kiss, stealing his breath in one single contact and swallowing his whines when he tries to protest. Gekko is quick to reciprocate and deepen the kiss, letting his tongue invade your mouth eagerly in an attempt to savor every crevice and keep the contact to last long, for as long as you want, anything you give him he is going to devour with fervor. 

One of his hands finds purchase behind your neck, obligating you to push him against the wall while the other snakes his way under your shirt, feeling every inch of skin available until his fingertips toy with the hem of your bra. 

His mouth moves in tandem with yours, desperate and wanting. You cannot escape from the iron grip behind your neck nor the other hand trying to figure out how to take the clothing off. 

Gekko wants you, wants you, no kidding. With the way he is grinding against you, and how he keeps making these noises when your tongues connect in his mouth, to the low grunts he slips when you regain dominance. This boy is desperate to bed you, and you cannot deny you don’t share the same sentiment.

You groan loudly when his hand gives up and tucks under the bra to grab your right breast, toying with the mound and fingers stimulating the nipple. Gekko smiles against your lips when he hears the reaction, sucking on your lower lip and claiming your mouth once again.

Your hand finds purchase on his hip, guiding his erratic movements to a slow one, making the friction harder to pursue but more aware of the pleasure flooding his system.

“More, please.” he whispers, kissing your cheek and leading his mouth down your neck to suck on the skin. “Give me more.”

Submissive.

Holding his cheeks you redirect his lips to yours, giving him what he wants. Rising your leg and applying pressure, he groans loudly for you to stick your tongue down his throat. His cock feels hard rock against your thigh, twitching with the need to be touched directly by your hand alone.

Gekko doesn't know what comes over him nor how he finds the courage to be touching you without shame. From kissing you, to feeling your breasts fit perfectly in his hand and having you ride his thigh unconsciously, is all too overwhelming and hot and it turns him on so much he wants to be devoured by you.

Own me, he wants to say, own me, mark me, make me yours only, please.

His finger racks down your chest with the many sinful thoughts running his head, leaving a red trail of his mark on your body. Gekko’s hand lowers until he grabs a handful of your ass now and tries to bite your lips in an attempt to seduce you. But somehow gets to draw blood because of his eagerness to feel you too. You stop for a moment, whining in pain and catching your breath from the make out session.

Taking distance, Gekko grunts in protest, eyes begging you to keep going. But when he notices the slight blood, he panics wildly. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” His hands hold your head with tenderness, and he watches your lip bleed slightly and get swollen with how hard he was chasing after the kiss. “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Huffing in amusement, you grab him by the neck and push him against the wall once again, his hands fall to his sides. He seems caught off guard, a surprised expression painting his features while he figures what you’re trying to do. 

Leaning in, you whisper in his ear, “You’re such a brat, you know that?” 

Gekko sighs at your words, melting under your touch, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I am…”

Wanting to test the waters, you tighten your grip on his neck, Gekko moans at that, bucking his hips.

“Who gave you permission to talk back, hm?”

You feel him gulp, having enough braveness to let his hand fall on your waist and caress you softly. Your eyes soften looking deeply into his eyes, finally understanding that his feelings are real.

The tenderness in which he looks at you fills your heart with this unknown feeling. Overwhelming, blooming, that is suffocating. In a good way, though, is pleasing.

“Are you okay with this, Gekko?” you ask. Gekko blushes and nods. Leaning your forehead against his, you smile gently.

“I-If you are, yes, anything.” Your stare is heavy, scorching, but he thinks that has nothing to do with the fact your eyes hold so much power and weight; but because he’s made you this flustered with his kisses.

That alone is enough to rile him up even more.

The blood has dried by this point and you are more than eager to keep going, but the fact anyone could find you both like this, and Gekko would be unable to hide the hard on he is sporting right now, obligates you to keep your feet grounded.

“Want to continue this behind doors?” you ask him, your hand touching his lower lip with care. Gekko nods excitedly, kissing your thumb. 

“Yes, please.” 

Oh, you cannot wait to wreck and ruin this man for anybody else.

Bold of you to assume he would want anyone but you on his bed by the end of tonight.

[bulbabutt]

ok. elephant in the room or shit i thought about a while ago but didnt post, my going theory on the rise cancellation which idk if its a theory more-so as reading the room and putting the pieces together.

it seems like playmates fault to me on account of the toys being shit and then cancelled outright. like waves of toys ready to go in 2019, none saw the light of day.

obvs a lot of them were shit, not the point. the point being theres up to 6 waves of toys on the table at 2019 toy fair, only 1 and 2 were made. compare to the last toyfair showing the mutant mayhem toys.

playmates made both of these era of toys. do you see how much more effort went into one than the other. you can say movies are more popular blah blah blah. but playmates has made ALL tmnt toys since they ever existed, and comparing the rise toys to even the previous shows toys it seems obvious where they put the money.

anyway my theory here is playmates got told (or given or offered or whatever) mutant mayhem. they immediately went. oh. yeah this will make us money. lets start prepping moulds for this now, lets get ready to sell a shit ton of different stuff. and they just left all those rise things on the cutting room floor. they didnt tell anyone on the team they were gonna do that. they didnt say "yeah it doesnt matter what you do cuz we have this NEW thing coming" they just abandoned it. they pretended theyd give it a chance to come back if their movie went well just to appease them and us, cuz they saw more money elsewhere.

the dumb shit about that is like imagine saying that about like. batman or the avengers or something. yeah we wont make this cartoon anymore cuz we have a theatrical movie coming in 3 years. like. you can have more than one iteration YOU DID IT WITH 12.

truly this is nothing against mutant mayhem by all accounts it looks amazing, my point here is that im sick of playmates fucking over each tv show with their stupid hunks of plastic. it has in fact happened each time, rise was just faster

87 was good, then there were the 90s movies that got popular enough that the show needed to be closer in style to.

03 was good, then it got dark, told to be more fun (cuz kids like ben 10 now) so they made fast forward, which was also good but in its own way, but then tmnt 2007 came out and playmates literally said "nope nope, we want to save on moulds so change your show to look like this movie" then 07 didnt go well cuz warner bros didnt fucking market it (what i heard from a podcast w nolan north was that they were super preoccupied marketing the shit out of 300 at the time. which. ok very weird choice for kids toys)

then we have 2012 after nick buys the franchise. and 12 has the weird tonal dissonance of dark stuff and kid stuff, with the most "designed to be toys" characters in it, clearly messing w things in the show itself while it was going.

then bayverse comes out along side it and once its over we get rise, where the designs clearly take inspiration from that movie (donnie and raph specifically)

then mutant mayhem is announced and rise just. fades out of existence. planned seasons cut and cancelled. planned toys disappear.

anyway. none of those shows are bad. none of the movies that come out along side them are bad. its just the dumbassery of like. not being allowed more than one iteration at a time, and its nOT on account of popularity or brand synchronizing like youd think, its literally to not have to make as many DIFFERENT SHAPED hunks of plastic! its fucking stupid. rise's downfall seems to be POOR FUCKING PLANNING on playmates part for THEIR shitty toys and then also being cheap/unwilling to have TWO DIFFERENT KINDS OF TOYS AT ONCE (proof being the 03/07 thing)

anyway. thats my theory or whatever that fills me with rage. i hate playmates and i think its insane that the downfall of rise literally comes down to two stupid companies and their desire to sell garbage to children.

[shessofineliterallyhitmewithacar]

south park genderbend hc’s

For names I think as it’s widely accepted Kyle would be Kylee, but it seems like no one’s rly decided on what to call Stan. I hc her name would be Stace, shirt for Stacey like Stan is for Stanley yk?

u cannot convince me that Stace doesn’t dress like a little grunge punk band type little Pinterest board. I’m talking band shirts, loose long sleeve u der tshirts, baggy jeans, smudged eyeliner, black and white converse (except Stace doodles on the white parts), and she definitely rocks the short, shaggy, mullet-y type hair style, like tell me u cannot see her wearing this shit

however Kylee on the other hand, is the opposite side of Pinterest. She wears more of an academia, neat, flowy kinda style. I can just picture her wearing pleated skirts, some nice fairycore kinda flowy shirts, some long flowy skirts and dresses, and 2 plaits hanging by her ears and reaching the middle of her spine (that is if she’s not wearing her hair out and letting her curls flourishe (which is stace’s favourite)). Kylee defo wears no makeup, save curling her lashes and occasionally wearing mascara, however her gf is the opposite, constantly rocking the heavy smoky eye, smudged eyeliner and fading mahogany coloured lipstick.

when they were younger tho, like before highschool I think they just wore basically what they do in the show except with cute lil skirts

While I think mlm style is bi/gay love, I think in the wlw universe they’re just big lesbians, and only for each other

ever since anyone could even remember Stace and Kylee were very much so anti-boys, always laughing and exclaiming ”eww” when the other girls started becoming interested in them. When it got to that stage that the other girls started dating boys, no one was really surprises when the 2 didn’t do the same, they were just Kylee and Stace the same they had always been ( this is mostly just cause I can’t even picture them with anyone else lol)

they definitely go on double dates with Marjorine and Kenny (I can’t decide if I hc Kenny as staying a boy or girl, either way I fucken love kenjorine)

stace and Shelley made a deal with Randy to work in a food truck selling weed cookies and stuff for tegeridy farms at the markets on Saturdays, in exchange for them not having to stay at the farm when it’s meant to be their week for staying at Randy’s (I hc that Sharon and Randy divorced and got split custody but Shelley hates him and Stan just hates being away from everyone one and that’s why they don’t wanna stay at the farm every 2nd week (i actually love Randy in all his dumbassery and don’t think he’d be as abusive he as he’s portrayed in all of those style fics)). Kylee stays at the truck every Saturday, sitting below the counter on the floor cause he’s technically not allowed to be there, sometimes bringing marj and Kenny too.

I hc cartman to be a girl but still go as cartman, her first names now just Erica. She had a little crush on Kylee when they were younger but when she ran into Stace going through one of her depression cycles on a swing set near starks, and let Stace rant abt how her life sucks and she loves Kylee so much it hurts to see her not feel the same (she’s clueless cause Kylee’s literally obsessed with her), cartman kinda realises how perfect they are for eachother and starts scheming to try and get them together. Stace tries to talk to cartman abt the swing set dilemma, but cartman simply says it never happened cause “why would I ever sit through u crying about ur f*ggy crush on the Jew” (she says this with love ofc)

cartman is now dating Wendy tho, after a tension filled fight (that cartman ofc only started “bc goddamn the purple wearing bitch is hot asf when she’s angry”) ended in the two of them aggressively making out in the janitors closet and rutting against eachother. Ofc it took them a month of denial to actually start dating eachother after a final fight ending with confessions of love coming out through rage-filled screams.

I think that’s pretty much all my hc’s for now, let me know if y’all would like to hear more, also sorry for any grammar errors ur girl did nott proofread haha

[readingasoiafachapteraday]

now im not very sure if a world of ice and fire is counted as a part of the original series (prolly not) but i have unfortunately started to read and compile notes from that silly little 300 page infant instead of picking up agot and starting it for the third time (which i am supposed to be 113 chs in its ok I’ll catch up before 364th) and i dont wanna be persecuted but the order in which the information about this universe has been consumed by me is downright filthy if not just illegal by even my own standards.

I watched the show for the first time when i was 18 and before season 6 came out. Naturally the timing and what i know now to be a hyperdependence of the neurospice on dissociative media properties led me to consume everything on the internet about r+l=j and in the following years of nightmarish hell that followed all other 1-3hr yt videos i could find that expound on the lore (except the icebergs). Now, thanks to whatever degenerative brain disease ive surely developed by now, a good solid portion of those postulations and theories are now not recalled by me, other than the some truly sus sussy sussaf things from the lore that have stuck out.

These things, combined with my ability to read/consume jondanysansabriennejaimepodjoryetc fanfiction on our enabling site in very short time spans, like truly short, has also given me a somewhat interesting understand of ff tropes, favoured characters, common dumbassery, etc when it comes to time travel fix its. But but but with my ability to successfully forget a lot of what doesn’t stand out and stay w me for sure, i genuinely attempted to finally write the one that I wanted to read. it has to be cuz ik no one else will be able to write what i have envisioned already in so so much detail. And because only i know what fucked shit i want to read. It has to be me.

Yesterday on the 112th day of starting this false journey, i finally put my hands on that sweet strong thicc & heavy truly sinuous hardback of awoiaf, and actually compiled notes, something that has happened only for 7 dany, 3 bran & 4 jon and ned chapters in the past 3 readings of agot (i don’t count f&b because 1 gyldane is much more biased than Yondel and 2 the notes are filled with more names and much less fact, there’s a lot of intentional informational overload to fuck with the reader which manifests itself as gyldanes spirit live fucking with my notes in the form of excessive use of ‚????????????????‘)

PHEWWWW THAT SAID I’ve taken to editing chapters character wise and I’m happy to report that dany‘s situation, setup and early chapters are FINALLY solved, at least for me, for now (gonna switch jorah & barristan - another reason i have been pushing this, i absolutely ADORE iain glen and his and emilias friendship has been sacred to me and book!j welp nuff said)

If you managed to wade thru that word vomit - and you have no idea what’s going on or even if u do, here’s a link for my totally beginner will probably never finish startup i mean crossover

Ps- can you tell i have been writing too many cover letters

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

Propaganda masterpost for desertduo

They are two idiots thinking eachother's udeas are good and then somehow winning

They are two idiots thinking eachother's udeas are good and then somehow winning

They don’t have a single brain cell between them. They poked the goat to “see what would happen” and ended up getting their bases covered in duped ender dragon eggs.

Particularly in Hermitcraft, they are the most chaotic together. Chaotic in the most stupid of ways. Example: they blew up an intricate machine from one of the most "threatening" people on the server, stopped posting for a while, tried fixing it and failed, and tried apologizing with diamonds (Grian), theme park gifts (Scar), and by calling the victim "handsome" and "smart" and everything they could think of. And THEN, when Doc (the victim) retaliated with very intricate pranks that take a lot of skill and knowledge, they teamed up, went to the perimeter they were banned from as their alter egos as a loophole, and FILLED the ENTIRE PLACE (and it's a ginormous hole down to bedrock, many chunks wide) with CHICKENS. Just. A lot of chickens. Chickens everywhere. Oh my god. And another thing. Grian loves pressing buttons, like ADORES it (that's how the machine broke in the first place) and Scar... well. He gets confused easily and also breaks a lot of machines. So when people in the server build stuff, they have to both Grian-proof it (make sure an overexcited person who loves pressing buttons won't break the system) and Scar-safe it (make sure it's easily understandable and won't be broken like that). But now they also have to GRIAN-AND-SCAR-PROOF their stuff, because i swear, they multiply each other's dumbassery like by 100. And all that is just from the current arc of Hermitcraft season NINE. If we go back to season eight for a second, Grian decided to fake being AFK in all his friends' bases, and when he got to Scar's, Scar built him a ROLLERCOASTER RIDE to the BOAT TOTEM (boatem) HOLE THAT GOES BEYOND BEDROCK. People constantly fell there in the season and it was hell gearing themselves back up. But Scar was sure they were gonna land on the boatem and thought Grian was asleep because of time differences. But he failed and both died either way. And good fucking thing Grian was watching it all happen. Scar was SINGING him a SONG. You could even HEAR HIM COMING UP WITH IT BEFORE THE ACTUAL RIDE. Scar by FAR had the BEST reaction to the AFK experiment. And GODDD they're such idiots together. Unless they're in it for survival (aka the Life series) in which case Grian basically becomes his nanny let's be real. Scar is way too prone to die. He dies literally all the time and someone's gotta have him on a leash.

grian thinks that hes the responsible one in the dynamic but really hes just as much a chaos gremlin as scar is

they enable each other constantly. fellow builders to friends to enemies to friends to enemies to f

they share two braincells with each other and they do not work half the time. The number of things they fucked up is not even countable. One of them will be like "I'll save you!" and then both of them need someone to come and save them. They also are connected at the hip and love to annoy each other and other people so so much. they need help

They are so. so. Pesky british bird who loves explosions and has an attention span of 2 + catboy scammer who likes to lick magic and die badly. They are perfect for each other and their friendship is so precious to me. They are canonically soulmates. Currently theyre camping out on the edge of their enemy's giant hole because they accidentally exploded his machine together while Grian was procrastinating. The situation escalated because Grian likes war and Scar likes chaos so now theyre sitting directly in the path of their enemy's giant TNT-pooping goat mecha. Their plan? Build a buttercup-themed mecha to fight it because buttercups are poisonous to goats

They have caused a lot of chaos and destruction due to their lack of braincells /pos

Scar dragged Grian to the desert on a llama to monopolize on its sand, they blew up their friend’s tunnel bore, and rode a roller coaster together. They just bounce a braincell back and forth basically.

They ping pong a brian cell between each other and the few times it produces a thought the idea is always a bad one

they have two brain cells between them and they are not sure where they left them, they actively search for trouble and act sincerely shocked when it bites them on the ass, very orange cat coded if you ask me

Things only work out for them by pure luck. They both think they have the braincell and will be the one to pull each other through but they are both wrong. Tripping over their own feet and stumbling so hard and yet still coming out on top just because the others fall over harder

They get in a room together and its like all braincells disappear. They blew up their neighbors redstone, they filled his base with thousands of chickens, they die nonstop, they bully the other (in a friendly way) constantly and then do the exact same thing, theyre dunbasses ur honor

Theyre literally, just an echochamber of dumb. They actively lose braincells when around eachother. Grian seems smart and calculated but he can never get anything to work properly and scar is just an absolute hazard to himself and grian tries to keep him safe. They both die in minecraft so much. Grian also just has a habit of pressing every button lever or chest he ever sees. Even if its an obvious trap. He breaks stuff so easily. Grian WILL press the big button on top of the tnt block thats in plain sight. Especially right after scar says "i wonder what that does". Theyre duo can be summed up to trickster dumbass and dumbass with a heart of gold. They literally started a prank war by accidentally blowing up someones redstone. They are the unattended children on every server theyre in.

long live the science bros.

One owed the other a life debt for killing them with a creeper (it was just a prank, bro) and so they spent the season trying to monopolize all of the sand in a desert, and that's jusr scraping the surface of how stupid they are.

[skriveting]

hi!! I hope you're doing well! Um, I guess I'll just go ahead and say what I was thinking of?

Person A and Person B have been married/dating for a while and have also worked at the same establishment for an even longer time (so, like, coworkers to friends to lovers) And uhh one of their coworkers is really really annoying and neither A nor B like them. Could you do dialogue prompts of them ranting about something their annoying coworker did after their shifts?

Hi! I love this scenario, haven't considered it before. I'm dubbing the coworker a him but feel free to change it however you like. Hope you like these!

"If I ever hear that noise again I will throw him down the stairs." "What noise?" "His voice."

"I'm going to kill him." "I'll help you."

"Can you believe what he did at work today?" "You mean exist?" "Yes!"

"So let's be clear, next time we see him, I'll fill the water balloons and you'll throw them?" "Yep."

"Look on the bright side, though." "What bright side?" "At least now people don't think you're the most annoying person at work anymore." "I'm thrilled."

"How is it even possible for one person to be so monumentally incompetent?" "Maybe he's going for a world record." "In what, exactly? Dumbassery?"

"Did you see what I saw?" "More importantly, did you hear what I heard?"

"Time for the daily debrief." "You have no idea how much I've looked forward to this."

"He's such a gossip. Can you imagine going around talking about people like that?" "I know! Good thing we don't do that sort of stuff." "Absolutely. Now, what was it you were going to tell me?" "Right, so-"

"Are you sitting down for this?" "At this job I do very little else, but go on."

[gravitycoil]

DO U HAVE anymore hcs for bill .. or ellis or any other survivor u feel like talking about tbh i enjoy hearing yer l4d thoughts :D

(This is my second time rewriting this because when I went to post it, it CRASHED FOR SOME REASON AND I LITERALLY SCREAMED)

I do have many... many thoughts about everyone.

In my mind Bill does not wear that ugly ass boot outfit after realizing the military and government screwed them over. He loves the group like a family and doesn't hate anyone even if he seems mean and sour towards Francis although he does think he is a giant dumbass but loves him nonetheless. Francis' dumbassery kind of gives Bill humanity because he can't believe someone like Francis has made it this far yet he's glad he has and he can smile about that. His dynamic with Zoey is hardcore Father-Daughter/Grandpa-Granddaughter and he loves her so much despite none of them really revealing how much they mean to one another and Zoey especially curses herself because she never got to tell him how much he meant to her when he died. When he did die, I like to think he turned maybe an hour later after the whole generator shit he didn't turn into an SI but if he did I feel like he would turn into a smoker or tank which, I think tank fits more and is more fuck you to his character cause it's all like. Die to 3 tanks, become one in the process which I should mention that I think yes you can be immune but once you die and your immune system and shit are dead you can still turn. When the group sees that he turned and has to shoot him themselves Zoey has to step away cause she can't bare to look at him like that and physically cannot pull that trigger. I like to think when Bill was alive he taught Zoey like literally everything he knows to her. Every little survivalist thing he knows was passed onto her like making animal traps, reading animal tracks, fishing, how to properly fire and hold different guns, aim training and all everything else. He loves Zoey so much as if she was his own Daughter/Granddaughter. He believes Louis is the only other like-minded one in the group his positive attitude and hopefulness is enough to make Zoey happy which in return makes him happy. I do think Bill is very sensitive/emotional yet bottles every emotion he can but I feel like he has many restless nights thinking about if the group were ever to get hurt or even so much as if they died and these scenarios play in his head over and over and it's enough to make him cry even if it's a little. He doesn't fear death but he does believe that if it were to claim him that it should just claim him instead of linger and draw out his demise. Which is why he was open to sacrificing himself he already lived his life, the others haven't especially Zoey. He wants them to have a chance at a normal life, one that isn't filled with the dead. He wants them to have a life.

Ellis is so autism and adhd to me. He sees nick as a brother even if nick doesn't view him as the same he would still take a bullet for him even after every mean thing he has said to him. Ellis is not stupid or anything like that. He's really bad at social cues and just everywhere at once. He is very warmhearted, hopeful, and caring which some will see as being naive especially in a situation like this. Rochelle sees him as a younger brother and is very protective over him, nick slowly gets protective over him to in a brotherly way. Coach is the only one that tries to teach him cues and tries to give him a better sense of judgement and is extremely patient with him. Every single story he has told of him and Keith are all real and not exaggerated they just have gotten into really insane shit. I like to think they have matching tattoos I imagine it's either fish related or car related. They were both mechanics and made all sorts of shit. I also think that Ellis never had a dad and was only raised by his mom and he still believes that Keith and his mom is out there somewhere amongst the hell. If he were to ever see them dead/turned... hmm... well... :( he'd be broken.

[mikuni14]

Twins - Ep 10

So, I'm the type of BL series enjoyer, who can forgive a lot as long as the series gives me something in return and makes up for its issues with something else. Twins was a very silly show that I liked anyway because it made up for its dumbassery with other things. I really liked Twins a lot, in some way I still do, I LOVE SPRITE my babyboy, but what has been going on in this show for the last two episodes is beyond comprehension and is turning my hair gray. In general, I have the impression that the last two episodes were filmed just to somehow fill the time and wait until episode 11 OF DOOM, in which the shit will finally hit the fan. And it's very, very stupid, because Sprite could have confessed the truth to First in this episode, he could have spent the entire episode 11 regaining First's trust, and in episode 12 we could have had a happy boyfriends era, like they did in Laws of Attraction, for example 😶

Watching the last two episodes is actually painful because what's fun about watching First suffer? The worst thing is that Sprite SEES IT and DOES NOTHING ABOUT IT. THIS EPISODE HAD A FEW MOMENTS WHERE ANYONE WHO HAS A HEART WOULD JUST TELL HIMTHE TRUTH. The weirdest thing is that there is absolutely NO reason to continue this sick situation, the series, as far as I know, never explains it, apart from this being a Zee's whim, which everyone just agrees to, instead of smacking him on the head and telling him to get his shit together. That's why I don't understand and I can't forgive Sprite for what he's doing, because at this point he's putting himself, his fucked up family, and I don't know, Zee's volleyball career?? which I don't even know if he wants to continue?? instead of the guy he loves, who is worried, confused, hurt and probably a little scared. Nothing about this situation makes sense, what is the purpose of all this? What are the true intentions of Zee and Sprite? Do they want to continue this…. FOREVER?? omg lol

Moreover, simply pretending to be someone else, making someone fall in love with you by pretending to be someone else, having sex as someone else is simply morally unacceptable. I would understand it maybe in some life and death situation. This is NOT such a situation, they are just selfish and extremely stupid. And First could simply start to suspect that either Sprite or he himself is ill, hallucinating, or having a split personality, WHAT'S ROMANTIC ABOUT THAT??? Does Sprite really not know what Zee is like and what he is like towards First??? Doesn't Salmon know this??? Sprite is so worried about his relationship, he wants to be with First, he begs him to ignore his "strange behavior", but at the same time he forgets that Zee can destroy this relationship with ONE WORD. Gods, this pisses me off so much. Let's remember that these are students, technically they are adults. If each of them took 1 (one!!) minute to analyze this situation, they would realize how stupid what they are doing is. AND THAT THIS SITUATION HAS NO FUTURE. I was sort-of ok with the whole twins swap at first because I understand the convention of this series (although I hate this trope). But now it really doesn't make sense and is just TOO stupid!!

*screams*

The best thing about this ep is their date (when Sprite is like he was when I first fell in love with him, with his goofy, dumb smile and attitude) and the cross pendant dangling between their naked bodies as they have sex, which basically is a

✨poetic cinema✨

Also. Drunk sex. Really? Are we still doing this in my BLs? Ok, I'm not very strict about this, there are different situations, sex is not always perfect. But this is not a situation where someone is only slightly drunk, where the relationship is already "in progress", where both are attracted to each other and are aware of each other's attraction, and alcohol only somehow gives them a "boost". Sam was drunk to the point that he couldn't stand and he doesn't remember anything, wtf.

So. Twins. *screams*

[notmuchtoconceal]

- Yo Broey. Got a minute?

- Several. What's on your mind, Brother Jacek?

- Not much, tell you the truth, bro. It's more like … I can feel myself engaged in a process wherein I return, with sometimes subtle, yet sometimes extreme, variance to the same spot, with a repetition which would seem to be carving a shape into my mind, or like … mind being abstract, the neuronal circuitry from which my mind seems projected.

- You fear your ruminative thinking is trampling hiking paths through the bright and splendid open field of your mind, leaving spiderwebs as seen in aerial which not only jostle the natural beauty of your thought's own carriage and environs, but may tempt you, again and again, down roads which you are better sealing with fresh sod and seed, to create simply uniform splendor?

- Yeah, so. Not sure if if I'm more impressed with how well I seemed to articulate something which can't really be said to be real, as it occurs only in a lil TV window inside my skull nobody else can see into, or like… if it's that you were able to just run with that and carry the metaphor … the metaphor which I'm now realizing is simply the practical marriage of image to idea, and not like … I don't know. A way for people to trick you into thinking one thing is another thing. It's more like… a thing is already more than one thing and by constructing our language in certain ways, we can highlight rather than obscure what seem to be such true and beautiful terrors. 

- The true error of time is hardcoded into the nature of linear sequence. That one moment must be one moment, isolated from the whole, biases our readings of subject and event, for it forces us to extrapolate from an incomplete picture; the negative space of which we may fill only with our own projections. One may hold multiple ideas in their head at the same time, ponder disparate subjects near-simultaneously out of time, but one may only speak one thing at a time, feel one feeling with its completeness at a time. The intensity of a thing being complete within the moment, but that completeness being far from the completeness of the whole, induces such palpitating anxiety in some poor souls. It seems as though people change, rather than simply reveal. It makes one think all change is permanent, rather than simply one reaction to an action, waiting to be re-fulfilled by a corresponding and reciprocal reaction which is itself an action. 

- Sometimes it's like I feel real fuckin high when I talk to you, bro. Even though I know I'm sober. It's like I feel sober. But I'm also definitely fuckin high. There's a dizziness. There's shakes. The blood is rushing through my face and my teeth are orchestra pits waiting to line up and string. Yet also… I'm still totally clear-headed. My capacity to think is not at all diminished; in fact, it feels subtly to incomprehensibly vastly increased. Feels totally casual, though, like, yeah… Right now, I'm sorta leanin into how awestruck I am, but as I was sayin that shit, it's like … it felt totally normal, and I think there was only a second afterward where I was like … huh.

- Truthfully, Brother Jacek, you likewise induce a strange paradox in me wherein I feel more totally myself by absolutely diminishing myself. There are times where you are so fascinating to consider, I would simply like to give myself all time and be beguiled by your speech, for every word feels like the unsprawling of a sonic pattern which reveals the true boundless expanse of that open grassland that you are! To think, even now, I can hear the deep forest calling beyond!

- I'm the cultural inheritor to the proud Knights of Dumbassery, bro. Where I come from, people don't talk this way. I find it hard to believe people talk this way where you're from either.

- Where I come from, people only talk this way in books.

- Pretty as I picture.

- Where I am, I would prefer many more to talk this way on-platform. 

- Put your words in my mouth, bro.

- My foreign tongue tantalizing you, tip to tip, to tunnel into your darkest recesses.

- Turn all syntax into sodomy, gushing flourishes of grapevines and goat dick.

- An herbaceous cheese to warm our spread. The spelt sacrament of us, flavored by the purest and the blackest salts; volcanic springs in which we let seep our tea.

- Take me, bro. I'm a slack jawed mute fit only to drool and flex for you. 

- You're a majestic steed. You will take me far, riding you long into the night, til upon the cliff edge you rear up so safe and well-reigned in your bridle, together we meet the rising dawn.

- My king … mount me as a knight, depart me as a God. 

- To heaven you will come with me. I would not leave behind such a loyal friend.

- Bro.

- There.   

[theflyingpimphat]

Now the dumbassery has a text version. Very much not safe for Dumpstr, as it features two insectoid aliens banging and rather colourful dirty talk provided by a third.

Talk dirty in Idrath to me

The meeting at the Cinnabar Hall had been a pleasant diversion. It was exciting and there was plenty of tasty food around, but Arqeez was also maintaining a charade of presenting himself as Arthaleis, the Prince of Idrath, with Zekra being his servant and translator. He was to use his native language only, while Zekra provided the 'translations', carrying out a plan to get information in a place where endoskeletals like ger weren't allowed to be. And right now, ge had left him to steal the Baroness of Ulumoura's data storages, leaving him behind with said Baroness to entertain.

As enthusiastically as she was telling Arqeez about the miner strike, she still didn't manage to get him interested in the subject. What he gathered out of it was that underpaid workers were unhappy and her uncle, who owned the mine, improved the housing once and created some competition with another mine that let the workers forget about their wages. Listening to her made him hungry. He cast a brief glance at the plate he had emptied a while ago, nothing but a few crumbs being left on it.

The Baroness noticed. “Oh, you wish for some food? Well, all this talking has made me hungry, too. I think I will pick up something for both of us,” she said, rising from the seat and stretching her limbs.

Arqeez looked into the direction Zekra had made off to, then nodded. Out of the attention of the Baroness, he looked around, his eyes lingering on the commotion to the right of him, where a horizontally-oriented individual had their back claws outstretched while shouting at a bigger, mix-oriented one holding their front body upward and extending their colourful neck flaps in response. Zekra was taking awfully long. Any time longer and he would leave the seat, towards one of the restrooms with the Baroness accompanying him, communication issues or not...

She returned soon after, only one plate in her hand loaded with a variety of delicacies.

"Let us start with this one,“ she said, picking a ball-shaped object with multicoloured decorations off the plate. "A chuur, made from the most exquisite sugars Ulumoura has to offer and popular with the aristocracy for centuries. Pity it was the only Ulumouran speciality left on the table.“

Arqeez took the orb from the Baroness' hands and examined it with his antennae. The smell was faint but pleasant, not too dissimilar from some of the edible plants on Idrath. He took it into his mouth, noticing its overwhelmingly sweet taste. The grinding teeth of his inner jaws crushed it, surprising him with a creamy sour filling.

“Now, select one for me.”

Looking at the Baroness, Arqeez figured he was now supposed to do the same she did. He picked up a light blue, rounded item with four seams running along it. “This is... a round thing I don't know anything about,” he awkwardly said in his native language before handing it over.

The Baroness chuckled as she took the food item. “A souum. A root flour dumpling made to resemble sou fruit. The aristocrat version of a popular commoner's dish, made from higher-quality ingredients.” She brought the souum to her mouth, her four jaws picking it up and tearing it apart by working in pairs. Then it was her turn to pick up a food item again.

“Louash. It's actually a Lacati dish, said to have been served to successful warriors in older times. I do think it's fitting for you. When your translator returns, I want to ask if you are involved in the military on Idrath.”

The item in question was fashioned of a hard, pale substance and might or might not resemble a face. It crunched under the flattened teeth of his internal jaws.

As it was now his turn to select, Arqeez was studying the plate again. One item looked especially peculiar to him, a colourful arrangement of prepared leaves, glazed in a shimmering layer. He handed the leaf arrangement to the Baroness.

“Oh, how charming! A bouloquin, usually gifted among young lovers. My dear Arthaleis, this day is promising to become a very special one.”

Arqeez did hope so, and was anticipating the moment it would become 'very special'. He watched the Baroness pick out another food item, some sort of baked pocket.

"A piekif. Popular among the males, as it is said to grant them power.“ Arqeez ate it, tilting his head. Compared to the other items offered so far, this one was rather bland. As it was his turn, he looked at the plate to find something the Baroness would consider interesting. Before his hovering hand could pick up a layered roll, her fingers closed over his.

"My dear Arthaleis, I do think we have had our fill. I prefer not to burden myself with food too much, especially when I have...“ the Baroness paused to blink slowly „...other plans for today. If you don't mind, we shall go to the restrooms. While there are surely cleaner places in the city, getting there is such a hassle.“

Arqeez knew exactly what she meant, his shaking antennae capturing an alluring change of her smell.

"But Zekra is still gone.“ He pointedly looked into the direction of the toilets.

"Your translator? Do not worry about it. I'm sure we can communicate our desires sufficiently. Besides, its ghastly sight would kill my mood.“ She did another slow blink and gently pulled on the hand she held, urging Arqeez to follow her. The half-full plate was left abandoned on the couch.

After the thrum of many different conversations, the playing music and the noise of various other offered entertainments, the corridor with the restrooms was surprisingly quiet and empty. A thick, padded door separated it from the main hall, the dark drapes covering the walls and the dim lighting giving it an air of privacy and seclusion.

The Baroness pulled back one of the drapes a bit, revealing a bit of a room behind. Before Arqeez could see inside, her long neck jerked back and she let go of the drape to let it cover the room's entrance again.

"Occupied.“

Passing a few more drapes, she pulled back another one, appearing more satisfied with the sight. "Come in, my dear Prince of Idrath.“

The room wasn't big, half of its space being filled out with a low, wide couch with various differently-shaped pillows on top. The floor was covered with a thick, soft mat swallowing the sound of their footsteps as the Baroness entered.

"My dear Arthaleis, I hope the delicacies have put you in the mood as much as they did me,“ she said, pulling herself onto the couch. "As I have no interest in waiting.“

With one leg still on the ground, the Baroness reached around and began to fumble on the hind part of her robe covering her postabdomen. Some strings were loosened, then she pulled the cloth back, revealing her plated, flanged hind body with purple markings. Her eyes met with Arqeez', who had been staring at her from the moment she had started to undress.

"Enjoying the sight, I see? Well, I do expect you plan to do more than just looking.“

Right. After Arqeez had developed the wanderlust of maturity, he had been searching for a mate, and now he had most unexpectedly found one who was interested. Zekra might offer an appealing sight, but the Baroness willing to go much further than that would mean he had to take action rather than holding back. He reached for his pants, trying to remember how that little tailor had tied them shut. To his luck, he could quickly find a way to loosen them enough and pull them down a bit, just in time to see the Baroness raise her postabdomen and reveal its pale underside. On one part, the plates began to shift and revealed a hidden orifice, its yellowish-orange flesh already having an inviting shimmer of wetness.

Arqeez couldn't take his eyes off it, which captivated him enough to barely notice the hot rush of blood down below when his own organ pushed itself outside. The Baroness eyed it, moving her mandibles.

"Oh my, that is unexpectedly large, even for someone your size...“ She shifted her position on the couch. "And those wriggling tendrils, this is promising to be a special experience.“

Arqeez made a humming sound when he stepped closer. The basics of what he had to do was clear, but the details were a whole other story, particularly since he had no experience with the Baroness' species whatsoever. His larger pair of hands closed around the flanges of the postabdomen, while the smaller pair held the flaps of his jacket out of the way, granting himself a good look, when his bright orange tentacled tip aimed for the Baroness' paler opening.

He let the tendrils first writhe all over the drenched flesh, then sunk into the waiting orifice.

With the sensible data copied and safely stored in the device attached to the base of ger tail, Zekra climbed down the twiners. Soon enough, ge was back on the roof of the Cinnabar Hall’s right wing, washing the mud off with water from the canister. The liquid was soaked up by the thick layer of epiphytes covering the roof. With the garish costume of Arqeez' living translator back on, ge slipped through the narrow window into the toilet cubicle and reached for the doorlock.

This was way too easy. The information easily-obtained, the hotel being close-by, the room easy to reach from the outside, the lock barely-protected… this all stank of something colossally failing along the way.

Yet when ge left the toilet wing and went back into the Cinnabar Hall's din, it appeared like ger absence hadn't been noticed at all. Shrinking down and lowering ger head, ge assumed ger role of a low endoskeletal servant translating for the noble exoskeletal waiting on a couch across the hall full of disapproving glances, steps taken back and barely-contained expressions of disgust.

To ger surprise and further discomfort, the couch was empty save for a plate with different food items currently being sniffed by a Fijeiri. They retracted their trunk when noticing ger presence, appearing more guilty over having examined the plate's contents rather than being repulsed by the presence of an endoskeletal.

"Have you seen my master? He had been lounging here with a Nerikei lady when I had to temporarily leave him,“ Zekra asked.

The Fijeiri flicked their eyestalks. "I have seen a Nerikei with a big individual dressed in white heading for the restrooms.“

Zekra put on a smile. "This lowly creature thanks you for the information. That was indeed my master.“ Ge briefly lowered ger antennae and hurried off, leaving the Fijeiri and the abandoned plate to themselves.

Ge barely paid any attention to the patron's reactions to ger presence now. With the way the Baroness had spoken to Arqeez, ge hoped they either hadn't started yet or were finished already. The less time ge had to spend in the Cinnabar Hall with sensitive data in ger pockets, the better.

Pulling the heavy door open, Zekra entered the quiet solitude of the restrooms, allowing anyone who wished a break from the noises, smells and social interactions of the gathering to wind down and have some privacy. Ge looked at the row of drapes closing off the alcoves. Finding out behind which Arqeez would prove to be no fun.

The first was immediately disregarded due to the hushed voices in a foreign language already indicating occupation by someone else. Having walked a bit along the corridor, Zekra crouched down to give the chambers a telekinetic examination, nothing more than a short burst to identify the silhouettes. Most of the occupants ge felt were alone and none of them had the shape of a vertically-oriented large exoskeletal with six limbs. Ge stood up to move to the next section when ge heard a voice talking behind one of the curtains, having the distinct deep, husky sound of the Baroness of Ulumoura.

Them talking was a good sign; Zekra hurried over to where ge had heard the voice, with a rumbling reply from Arqeez allowing ger to pinpoint the drape behind which they were having their conversation. Pulling the drape aside, ge inhaled to announce ger return, but the sight that revealed itself to ger made ger pull the drape immediately shut and the air escaped from ger with an embarrassed squeak.

Ge had found Arqeez, in the middle of screwing the Baroness.

Ger intrusion didn't remain unnoticed. "Oh my, looks like your servant has returned!“

Arqeez had barely noticed that Zekra was back again. He was fully occupied holding and stroking the baroness' postabdomen while he slid in and out of it, his tendrils wriggling through the multiple compartments of the postabdomen's inside along their way. The sensation of the soft warm channel around him, grabbing and twisting with the Baroness' movements was his entire focus by now, even the smell of her exotic pheromones had moved to the back of his perception.

"Oh my, looks like your servant has returned!“

The sudden words let Arqeez lose his pace, stopping halfway in. He answered with a quizzical hum, his front eyes meeting the Baroness', seeing her folding her hands.

"This is wonderful news, now we can finally talk to each other again.“ Her neck turned around to give him a good view of her slow blink. "I want you to talk dirty in Idrath to me.“

Zekra couldn't believe what ge had just heard. Ge had hoped ger transgression would be ignored, allowing ger to wait out the act somewhere out of earshot until they were finished, but acting as a translator for the sweet nothings the Baroness wanted to hear was several more layers of embarrassment. It appeared ge had finally found the part where the offset to the data theft's convenience was.

Arqeez gave a brief reply. Not being able to direct the length of his speech with the antenna signalling they had agreed on, it would require ger to come up with something of an equivalent length; together with this part being completely unplanned and the juicy situation, this would prove to be far more challenging than extracting all the information about the data had been.

"The Prince of Idrath is delighted of the idea,“ ge awkwardly said, sitting down next to the drape and slinging ger tail around gerself in sheer discomfort.

The Baroness liked Zekra's answer, judging by the squeeze her postabdomen gave Arqeez upon hearing the answer. Her expectant glance told him she wanted to hear more.

"But I really don't know what 'talking dirty' is supposed to be.“

"The prince of Idrath is enchanted by the sparkle of your eyes,“ Zekra provided from behind the drape.

"Hmm, yes,“ the Baroness hummed with her insides clenching, a slow roll along Arqeez’ length that have him briefly lose his pace again.

"I just say anything and you like it.“

"The great Prince of Idrath compliments the curvature of your neck, comparing it to a hrai sprout.”, came the 'translation'.

Delightful! Ooh, tell me more, tell me more!“

Having adjusted his pace to the commentary a bit, Arqeez rumbled when the accompanying squeeze happened as he pulled out, a delectable tug on his member that made her canal feel longer than it actually was.

"This is good.“

"The Prince of Idrath is complimenting your performance.“

Another squeeze. "Delicious! Your company is a pleasure!“

Arqeez considered it more of a pleasure to push his organ in as deep as he could, until his abdominal plates scraped against hers. "You are a pleasure,“ he said emphasizing his words with a roll of his hips and a flaring of his tendrils, making the Baroness curl her fingers in response. "Let me try one myself. Your insides feel great around my-“

"Yes, yes,“ she cut him off. "My dear Prince of Idrath, it is a joy to listen to your compliments, but I requested you to talk dirty. We are not in a council hall.“

Arqeez put his antennae askew, slowing his pace. "If I knew what talking dirty really meant, I would do it. But I don't know how dirt would make this better.“

"The Prince of Idrath wants to fuck you into the couch so hard the squelching of your greedy hole can be heard in the cubicles eight doors away.“

"Oh, oh my! Glorious! More!“

Where the compliments had the Baroness' body react in a most appealing way, Zekra's saucy commentary made her insides squirm and her postabdomen curl. Not only that, but the words themselves made Arqeez‘ antennae stand straight up. Zekra‘s choice of words was nothing new to him considering ger frequent swearing, but the context they were used in awakened something in him that let him want to do exactly what Zekra had provided. He got a firmer hold on the Baroness' postabdomen, readjusted the angle and began pushing into her harder and faster.

"If only Zekra was as willing to do this with me as you are. Because I would love to do that in the ship from launch to landing with ger.“

"The Prince of Idrath wants to wreck your insides so that they will ache for the next five revs and the opening will gape and drool for the next two.“

Limbs tensing upon the words, the Baroness looked back, giving Arqeez a slow blink, her insides now feeling more tense in general than before.

"Hnn, more...“

The mental images Zekra managed to paint fed Arqeez’ lust almost as much as the squeezing and tugging sensations surrounding his organ, pushing him towards a satisfying finish in leaps. "I-I... don't even know... what to say even more. This... this is... fuck.“

The Prince of Idrath tells how he wants to drown your reproductive tract in his semen until your fat, swollen postabdomen spills its contents all over your robes while your body trembles and shivers from the best climax anyone has given you.“

"Wonderful!“ the Baroness cried out, throwing her head back, her postabdomen curling and squirming in Arqeez‘s firm grip as he pounded it harder and faster, until he jammed his entire length in, tendrils writhing and flaring. His lower abdomen became a tight, pulsing knot pumping copious amounts of hot fluid into the Baroness‘ insides beyond his organ‘s reach, the restless tendrils stirring through it as they lost more and more contact to the undulating walls. As the spasms waned and the haze cleared, allowing him to focus on any other sensation beside those coming from his still pumping reproductive system, Arqeez‘ eyes met the Baroness‘.

"Hnn, you sure do keep your promises, my dear. I can‘t say I had ever had any acquaintances that were this… filling.”

With shaking limbs, she pulled herself further up the couch, and lifted up her postabdomen out of Arqeez’ loose grip, his softening organ sliding out to be followed by a torrent of thick white fluid gushing out onto the floor.

“I for sure won’t envy those who have to clean the restrooms,” the Baroness commented the splattering noises. “But who cares about those, anyway. My dear Prince of Arthaleis, this was a most welcome encounter. I do hope we can repeat it some time, when I will visit your home.”

As the cableway rolled away from the Cinnabar hall towards the district where Ak-Shmay had his dressmaker’s shop, Zekra still felt slightly nauseous, even after all the time that had passed after the ‘incident’. Having to provide the commentary while ger companion was fucking their target individual had been one of the last things ge would have expected to do for retrieving the copies of her sensitive data.

At least the Baroness of Ulumoura had quickly lost interest in Arqeez after she had stepped out of the restrooms on slightly shaky legs, heading for the buffet, which allowed Arqeez and Zekra to leave the meeting without any hassle, just telling the guards at the gates that the Prince of Arthaleis was exhausted from all the social mingling with other exoskeletals.

“That… had been a thing,” Arqeez said, now speaking Unicomlang again. “The things you said there got me up as much as actually-”

“Arq, just shut the fuck up. I don’t want to be reminded of that,” Zekra replied. Ger tail was still in loose coils around ger feet. “Having to listen to you two doing it was already bad enough, as you sounded like two greased-up Molurians wrestling in a slime pit.”

Arqeez shrugged. “Maybe you can show me how to do it quieter once we are back in the ship.”

“You just ejected what sounded like half your body mass’ worth of fluids there, I think you had enough for now,” Zekra replied with ger tooth plates showing. “Now let us do our delivery, then leave.”

“I thought you like it here?”

Zekra snorted. “Arq, I’m short of getting me a memory wipe, the side effects be damned. I don’t want to be around anything that reminds me of that situation any longer than absolutely necessary.”

Arqeez gave ger a worried look, which ge noticed. “But for you I’ll make an exception.”

Sequel to https://theflyingpimphat.tumblr.com/post/189736561295/just-me-lewding-up-the-fourth-a-to-z-episode, just some dumbassery spawned from changing an event in the fourth A to Z episode.

[supernatural-bias]

—THE FILL IN

—Getting called up to be a stand in mic operator was something they were used to. Being a stand in that is. But working on the most popular show at Buzzfeed all about the supernatural proves for an interesting experience. In more ways than one.

—Word count: 2.7k

—Extra: tagging @beep-beep1

It would have been nice to get a heads up.

I mean, (Y/n) was used to random calls durring spotty times in the day. To come be a stand in for this that or the other was their job after all. The sole purpose of their jobs contract was to litteraly be a substitute for whatever called. They'd been on sets as things from a water boy to just a cam guy and still got paid the same.

But this was a little out of the blue. Being called up at four in the morning (read again: four in the goddamn morning) for an emergency job to some fucking—mental, obscure, supposedly haunted, insane assylum in the middle of the country? Just to film?

Still, who were they to deny working along side the most popular show at the office right now. Anyone would be lying if they didn't say that Buzzfeed Unsolved was carrying the corporation at this point. Aside from the Try Guys that is.

Personally (Y/n) saw why they, they being the fans and people who tuned in, thought that way. In fact, in one of the earlier instances of their start for working at Buzzfeed, they had been on one of the first ever filmings for that show and had met Ryan Bergara before—allowing them to see why such a large amount of people had taken a liking to him. Ryan was a kind fellow, if a bit of a wimp when it came to interacting or even thinking about interacting, with spirits—along with some other guy that would sit by his side. All they had remembered was that he had a beard and redish-brown hair. And that he had quit the show a few episodes in opting for a replacement, not finding it that much his style.

Of course, (Y/n) being (Y/n), had to try and remember all this on the drive towards the sets location. It had been a year or two since that initial interaction after all, and they tended to not do their reasearch. Classic.

Aching feet touched a gravely asphalt road as they stepped out of their car with an almost inaudible groan, still stretching the exhaustion out of their bones from this mornings quite litteral wake up call. They would have to either set their phone on silent next time, or be prepared to cuss out anyone who's not their boss on the other end. Emphasis on the not their boss part.

Still, they rubbed their eyes while walking up to a hotel in front of them. It was nothing they hadn't seen before when traveling for work. Just a small, cream colored thing that was probably on its last limb, jumping paycheck to paycheck just to tie up loose ends if they had to guess.

They had been given directions via email this morning to meet up with Ryan before any shooting had begun. The team had wanted (Y/n) to know what was going on before just diving headfirst into an episode riddled with spirits and dumbassery.

Yeah. Probably a good decision. It was too early in the morning for any dumbassery.

All the same, they found themself in front of two rooms with faux gold numbers on them, the sickly yellow paint chipping from some corners. Both presumably Ryan and another guys room, Shane, they belived, based on the message that had popped up in their inbox.

Jeez (Y/n) hoped they weren't secretly a pair of giant assholes.

A quick knock on the peeling doors gave way to one, then two, swinging open with their respective residents quickly assessing their summoner.

It took Ryan a second, standing bleary eyed and disheviled in his rooms doorway, but eventually his eyes lit up.

"Oh hey! I remember you! Corporate told me we'd be getting a stand in for Jake." A friendly smile blossomed on his face, bringing his almond shaped eyes into a squint with the effort.

(Y/n) just nodded at him with a slow grin, choosing to assume Jake was the mic guy they'd be standing in for durring filming. They took note of the way Ryan spoke with a mix of polite professionalism and genuine joy, finding it a nice change of pace from the dry orders and comments they normally received at work.

This guy on the other hand—

"Ohh so you're the jack of all trades!" Somebody else had entered the scene durring the brief exchange between Ryan and (Y/n). A very tall somebody, practically reaching the tippy top of his hotel doorframe.

From in his own private domicile, Ryan shot Shane a look of disbelief and disappointment. But (Y/n) had to resist the urge to snort out loud.

It was funny to say the least, to have this random guy that looked more like a homeless dude crossed with a stereotypical white dad, call them the Jack Of All Trades at eight in the morning with the stupidest smile they had ever seen from someone.

Goddamn he was one goofy motherfucker.

“Really, man? Everytime. I swear—” Ryan sighed, but his face lit up again when he looked back over at (Y/n).

“So! Basically I’ve heard that this place well be heading out to is pretty haunted. Have been doing a lot of research this past week about it, so I dragged my buddy Shane all the way out here to investigate with me!” He said, basically bouncing on his heels with far too much excitement for the early morning hour. The person across from him nodded, casually admiting they knew how the show worked from the snippets they had seen.

“You’ll be hanging out with us all night, er, day I guess, trying to get some sleep. So be prepared for a lot of headaches. Little miss ghost hunter got plenty of sleep on the way here so he's ready and rearing to go.” Shane sighed, motioning his head towards Ryan. Ryan pretended not to notice, opening his door up wider.

“Here, you can get your stuff set up in here!” Thanking him, they stepped in. It was a bit new to say the least, staying in another person's room less than five minutes after meeting them, but worse had happened to them. And besides, less than average budgets were often used on shows that required a lot of traveling, like this one.

Once entering the small hotel room (Y/n) realized there was a door connecting the two boy’s rooms. They also noticed a large pile of various mic stuff in the far side of the room, conveniently placed on top of what they assumed would be their bed. Suppose somebody had thought it was best to think ahead.

Whilst sitting on the ground in a kindergarden remanicent criss cross applesauce pose, their fingers would halt every now and then from untangling wires. A feeling of something pricking the back of their neck would alert then of an unsettling feeling. Almost like they were being watched.

Yet every time their neck straightened itself up to look around and search for the source, nothing was found. Ryan was just laying on the bed typing on his phone, assumedly working last minute on the script for the video.

It was unnerving to say the least.

Shane eventually came into the room through the shared door, and gave them the same carefree smile.

Something about it felt—off to say the least. But they wouldnt be able to describe why even if you asked them.

He sat next to Ryan, and they started quietly talking about the plans for the video. (Y/n) turned back to the mess of technology, finally getting everything untangled and set up; and eventually stood up to walk over to the boys.

They met Shane’s eyes, and the pair glowed a soft red. Like a cars backlights in an early morning fog.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and paused. They itched to rub at their eyes as if cleaning them off to make sure what they had seen was correct. But by the time they had blinked, the light hue was gone as quick as it had came.

"You alright?" Their gaze flitted to Ryan, his question taking a second to penitrate their brain.

"Yeah. Yeah no I'm okay sorry."

"Alright." Ryan hesitated. "Hey, could you come proof read something for me? I need to make sure you're okay with it before shooting."

Even while (Y/n) walked over to the side of the bed, that feeling of being watched didn't go away.

They had the feeling it wouldn't for as long as they were on this trip.

"And cut!"

(Y/n) finally lifted the mic they had been so graciously lugging around for the last three hours off their shoulder, an ache flooding their arm—! sure sign of a big bruise to come tomorrow morning. Compared to how disheveled Ryan looked just then though, and how he had been looking throught the entirety of filming, they would be okay.

"Great job. Really everyone. Absolutely amazing. Now can we please get the fuck out of here?" Ryan was still pointing his flash light every which way despite the cameras being off. "I swore I saw something a couple minutes back and I'd rather not end up with my insides on the outside."

"Yeah yeah whatever you big baby." Shane teased his friend while walking towards the exit, Ryan in the lead with everyone following in the pairs footsteps.

The trip out to the assylum hadn't taken long. Apparently Buzzfeed had taken the courtesy of booking the place out for the night so that way it would be devoid of tours full of spirit obsessed family's. (Y/n) hadn't been able to decide if they felt like that was a good thing or not. One the one hand shooting was ten times easier without mics picking up screaming children in the back ground. But on the other hand as Ryan pointed out, if they died no one would find them for at least a day. Fun. But at least now all they had to do was make the treck back to the vans. Nothing more.

"So (Y/n), what'd you think of your first time on set with the infamous ghoul boys?" Shane asked only after flagging the mic operator over to his side. His eyes scowered their face with a curious look. Like he was expecting a certain response.

"Technically it was my second time filming." Ryan nervously backed up that statement with a nod, still on edge. Shane just outwardly laughed at that. "And it was okay. Honestly the prospect of ghosts and stuff doesn't scare me, but I'd rather not stick around any longer." They shrugged.

"And I wouldn't call you guys 'infamous'." They accentuated their words with air quotes and a playful smile. "I don't really see any other ghost hunters names being tossed around as much as I see you two's."

"Please don't call us that. I prefer to think of myself as someone who gets paid to deal with Ryans bullshit." Shane playfully groaned, fidgeting with his ridiculous looking camera vest. Ryan just shot a panicky glare at him out of the corner of his eye sarcastically laughing.

The rest of the walk through the winding hallways—had it been this tedious of a path on the way in? Certantly didn't seem like it—was filled with the idle conversation between (Y/n) and Shane, Ryan occasionally joining in to keep his mind off things.

"Yeah I just think tha—"

Darkness fell over everyone in one fatal swoop, words respectively dying in everyone ls throats for a moment. More suprise than anything.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" Was what broke the silence. (Y/n) heard what they guessed to be Ryan cussing rapidly while hitting the side of his flashlight in hopes of turning it back on.

"Hey come on. It's not that big of a deal. We can find the rest of our way back with the go pros." (Y/n) attempted to soothe Ryan. When they turned to look at the big black blob next to them who they hoped was Shane, all they got in response was a simple claim that the cameras had fritzed out.

"Fuck!!"

"Calm down Ryan. If we die I'll give you my inheritance what about that."

"That not how that works dumbass!"

While Shane attempted to curb his shorter friends anxious shouts and groans, (Y/n) couldn't help but notice how relaxed he seemed. Yes, they knew that Shane didn't belive in spirits. Yes, they were well aware he had carelessly asked said spirits to muder him if they weren't too pussy multiple times. But they had to admit even they were a little spooked. And his attitude made no sense. It made them think of the weird thing that they had seen in his eyes back at the hotel. Or at least what they thought they saw.

"Come on. Let's bounce."

"Please don't say that." Ryan whined. Yet he still headed for the nearest exit, a pair of barely visible double doors.

(Y/n) went to silently follow before a small wisper made them freeze.

(Y/n).

Whipping around quickly, they had to resist the urge to hold the long mic out like a jousting weapon. Even in the pitch black it was better safe than sorry.

They hardly even heard the call of their name come.

"Hey. You coming?"

They snapped out of it to look at the source of the voice, seeing Shane a few yards down holding a pair of double doors open, the moon from the sky outside lighting up his lanky figure.

His shadow was even darker than the surroundings. Stretching across the barren hallway and consuming everything. Horns and wings protruded from his ba—

Wait. Horns and wings?

(Y/n) swallowed thickly and blinked. And it was gone.

"What planning on staying the night?" Shane goaded them again when they offered no reponse. But his smile held a silent message. An amused one. Granted none of any malicious intent, just like he knew something no one else did.

They mummbled a wide eyed no back in his direction. Shuffling down and out of the building and past Shane took a lot more nerves than they cared to admit, hairs standing up on the nape of their neck for seemingly no reason.

"Pretty fucking ceepy night."

Shane just grinned.

[aveegrex]

COWORKER!SANJI

coworker!sanji has a crush on you and reevaluates his everything upon learning it its reciprocated. genre: fluff, coworkers (friends) to lovers pairing: coworker!sanji x gn!reader word count: 1,1k trigger warnings: none except for a little dumbassery on sanji's side, a couple of curse words and mentions of alcohol and cigarettes. author's note: I've recently started One Piece and I am now infatuated with this blondie

coworker!sanji who always compliments you on your looks, making sure to address not your body, but your clothing choices or your make-up

coworker!sanji who knows you hyperfocus on your tasks and don’t pay attention to the clock, and gives you a little shoulder squeeze in the beginning of a lunch break

coworker!sanji who shares his lunch with you, telling you he just ‘accidentally’ made too much for himself

coworker!sanji who smiles shyly when you compliment his cooking, and makes a mental note to himself to bring you something special the next day

coworker!sanji who put up a cute picture of a cartoon monkey with a cake on your desktop on your birthday, and then denied all allegations with a playful giggle

coworker!sanji who lives for the moments when the two of you go on a smoke break while it’s raining and he gets to stand closer to you since you always manage to forget your umbrella

coworker!sanji who lives for the days when you come to the office wearing hoodies and little to zero makeup, stealing glances at you throughout the day to relish in your domestic vibe

coworker!sanji who also doesn’t really enjoy office parties and eventually you two end up on the couch in one of the rooms, chattering away with soft drinks in your hands

coworker!sanji who plans on making a move on you for the fourth party in a row, but is too scared to ruin the special intimacy you two share 

coworker!sanji who stands up for you when the hr people stick their tongues in their asses about your boss overworking you

coworker!sanji who is dying of happiness inside when you ask him to give you a ride home since your car is stuck at the mechanic’s 

coworker!sanji who dies internally when your fingers brush against his as you’re trying to lower the volume of radio playing some random song

coworker!sanji who stummers on his little ‘what?’ when you ask if he’s busy this evening, and quickly composes himself enough to mumble a ‘oh, sure, thank you’ when you invite him for some tea

coworker!sanji who looks confused as you then fetch two wine glasses and a bottle, saying he can’t drink as he has to drive home later

coworker!sanji who thinks he’s gone to heaven when you rub his cheek with your thumb, your lips too close to his own chapped ones, and whisper ‘stay’, giving him a feather-light kiss 

He thinks he’s lost his mind, unable to believe a single ounce of reality, because it simply cannot be. It is not. You’re not kissing him right now. It’s not your soft lips he feels on his own. It’s not your house, it’s not you. It’s not him here. 

It cannot be true because it’s just against every law of nature that he wasn’t alone in his feelings. So Sanji quickly breaks the kiss, looking at you as if he’s seen a ghost. 

‘You - his hands shaking, every cell of his being on fire. - You..’

Your eyes widen and you almost jump away from him, covering your mouth, a tiniest ‘Sorry’, not louder than a mouse’s squeak breaking the silence. 

‘I’m.. I’m so sorry, Sanji, I-... - you avert your eyes, quickly turning away to the counter, fidgeting with little misplaced utensils that you forgot to put away in the morning. - I just, I’m so sorry, I just assumed you liked me - oh, silly me, heh, - and I…’

You turn back to him, the overwhelmed state you’re in filling your eyes with tears, and you sigh, meeting his confused gaze.

‘Let’s just for the sake of my dignity - well, whatever’s left of that, - let’s pretend it didn’t happen and I didn’t just do … that’

Sanji was borderline going insane. He should’ve closed the damn distance between you two and kissed you, should’ve pulled you snug against his chest and crashed his lips against yours to muffle the mumbling mess that escapes your mouth and to finally have what he was craving since the first day he saw you. 

Sadly, Sanji was an idiot. 

‘You kissed me. - he gulped, his stare still lingering on you as he hesitantly brought his hand to his lips. - You kissed me? Why?’ 

Sanji’s CPU malfunctioned exactly the moment you made your initial move and ever since was quietly resting in peace with all the smart words and cute flirts and sleazy pick-up lines the man has ever come up with. 

Not a thought flashed in his brain, all built-up neuron connections ceasing their work for the day and calling it quits since one of the fundamental beliefs of Sanji Vinsmoke 1.0 was butchered by your lips and a single word that escaped them. 

‘Sanji? - you took a step towards him and your next line sounded too much like a question. - Sanji, I like you.’

Dead as a grave. 

‘Sanji, I’ve liked you for about two years now’

Try again. 

‘Sanji, kiss me right fucking now or I swear I’m gonna kill you so this shame dies with yo-mmmphhh’ - and you melted in the man’s arms as he obliged, kissing you feverishly, religiously, pushing you two towards the wall and outright moaning as his tongue found it’s way in your mouth. 

It was autopilot Sanji, the one that took charge preserving man’s life in the craziest of moments, and this Sanji knew damn well to not break the kiss. To hold you so tight against him that you were borderline asphyxiated, and never let go, because miracles don’t have a habit of happening often. 

His hands hooked under your thighs and he raised you oh so easily to bring you on the couch, stumbling yet dead set on having your full body pressed against him. Falling to the soft cushions he let his hands into your hair, his lips raw of bites you’ve left, and only then he broke the kiss. 

‘Is that really happening?’ - the puppy eyes stared into your own and you couldn’t contain a giggle.

‘Yes, yes it is, Sanji. - you smiled softly and he swore under his breath again, incredulous of how such beauty as yourself is even allowed to exist. - I sure damn hope it is’

A big foolish grin adorned Sanji’s face and he raised his hand to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your lips. 

‘If so, please don’t kill me. I won’t tell anyone, promise’ 

You laughed and nodded, your own hands finding purchase in his now messy hair. 

‘So, wine?’

‘Anything you want’

reblogs are welcome, MDNI, confess your feelings people

© 2022 AVEEGREX, all rights reserved. reposting and copying my works without my consent is forbidden.

[variousqueerthings]

headcanoning johnny as gay

I used to headcanon johnny as bisexual, but honestly season 4 has put me into "this is a deeply repressed gay man who's really struggling with overcompensation through toxic masculinity because he's this close to breaking and going to find a one-night-stand in the most far away place from his homebase to not think about daniel too much (eyy good thing he's going to Mexico)" space

earlier seasons (so far - halfway through season 2) didn't have him this obsessed with his masculine image in the same way - that was post-working-with-Daniel-territory (more on that in a sec)

yes, he had the toxic masculinity/dumbassery that had him say things like women have tiny hollow bones in season 1, yes he was deathly afraid of crying (more on that in a sec), yes it is season 1 where we get the amazing "a young johnny is enthralled by the sight of sweaty strong boys" scene however

seasons 1-3 johnny isn't in a relationship, although he is actively interested in two women (ali and carmen), the first whom he dated 35+ years ago and has put on a pedestal, the second who is the mother of the kid he's adopted and also has... put on a pedestal

the montage of him going on dates basically has the vibe of "this date would be so much easier if it were a guy" (like the now two not-date-dates he's had with daniel, s1x9 and s4x2) and the one (unnamed?) woman he does get on with he abandons without any thought to defend carmen's honour

point being, s1-3 johnny seems interested in women, but in s4 he is actually in a relationship with someone he really wanted to be in a relationship with and he kinda... doesn't seem to be interested in it at all - RIP carmen, this is because you have no interiority outside of love interest and mother, so they don't actually show what you two have... in common... but I'll take it for this

back to crying - the most obvious of the "johnny had toxic masculinity trained into him" narrative points, but also doubles - along with other factors (cream puff anyone?) - as the age old "don't be a girl" concept, which is 100% part of queerphobic rhetoric

season 4 - the season of "whaaat is up with johnny and masculinity serously???? and doesn't he know how to go down on a woman?" is the season which finally sees him Cry cry

it's one of the several fascinating implosions happening in season 4 where johnny is so scared of losing what little he's managed to get, despite himself, that he fucks it up - not in the same way as he's done previously, part of getting better is opening up new ways to fuck up right?

I actually really love how... quiet in a way... both his and daniel's narratives were (yes, yes, with one bombastic fight slapbang in the middle) -

if I'm reading johnny as gay, this protectiveness is the last vestiges of an armour that isn't doing anyone any good, so he's just having little implosions here and there - also ngl terry silver calling him Pretty Boy (callback to s1 Daniel "I don't remember calling him pretty") right before he kicks the shit out of him... that was hot to me personally

these aren't very organised thoughts, or with much depth yet, but I'm thinking it - I'm thinking about Pretty Boy Lawrence and his little implosions and his tying heterosexuality to masculinity while more and more being challenged with a queer youth and his inability to really relate to women (I'd say his best relationship is actually Amanda, followed by kids like Sam, Aisha, Devon) in a way that makes him a bad partner and his half-heartedness in being a lover and a partner to carmen right now - the performance is becoming ever more caricature, ever more frayed and see-through - he is ever more perceivable

maybe it's good he gets some physical distance to LaRusso next season, although it'll be interesting how he reacts to chozen filling his Spot

[crimsonxe]

So there's a lot of dumbassery in this from both @fndmstrugglecomments and @insaneoddball (tagging cause otherwise it'll be "too cowardly to tag them huh" or some other variation and I have no issue saying it to people's faces), so let's dive into this.

To the first moron:

a) Not only is the pinup label not within quotes, meaning its not a direct thing from Monty thus being more opinion; but that's further reinforced by I dunno using one's own damn eyes. Where the outfits are not outrageously fanservice or revealing either in RWBY or outside of it. That being said Monty wasn't some celibate monk, he was someone that grew up in a particular time and watched anime/manga, while also having a foot in gaming; so yeah he appreciated the femme form in fiction. He was also the joking type, hence the Yang modeling vid. What actually counts and matters? His actual work and presented views showing them. Work that shows little fanservice outside of their canon appearance (Zero Suit Samus is a canon thing for Metroid and DOA designs are DOA designs) and plenty of badass femmes, that in several cases also are LGBT+ (Samus, Nicole, Blake, and Yang). As has already been mentioned he also put in place the "void" under femme characters' skirts in RWBY specifically to avoid upskirt shots. Femme characters are not degraded in their specialty (fighting, strength, skill, intellect, magic ability, etc) to boost up male characters in their stead; femme characters are hit with fawning schoolgirl syndrome either; and they're actually allowed to fall for each other over a forced hetero option to reward a male for being "nice" or "good". The closest it comes is Weiss w/ Neptune, which didn't exactly go anywhere. inb4 "what about Jaune and Weiss": a) no guarantee anything is going to happen there and b) that'd have more to do with growth of characters than reward for "nice" or "good".

Also mind you even according to one camp of feminism having femme characters actually showing fitting amount of skin is good due to a matter of letting femme characters embrace their sexuality & not be forced into sweaters & jeans that's a form of repression in itself for purity culture.

So the only thing you've done is ignore the actual work, invoke purity culture vs. feminism, and intentionally try to spin comments to bash someone who's work very much shows his core.

Now for the other:

You mean they made the modelers and animators jobs easier by going for more general chest sizes vs. customized versions and in a manner that isn't even egregious? How dare they -insert eye roll- You morons really need to get on the same page cause one group bitches about bigger chests, the other bitches about how Yang's chest has been shrunk cause of the "woke agenda". It also isn't the pro-femme stance you think it is for the prior, cause it just goes to point out how you're staring at chests of the femme characters.

As for Alter-Blake/Nightmare-Blake, I've taken issue with that exact thing but as has been already mentioned it was a JP design choice. And as is common with M&K they try to take a hands off as much as possible approach to other creatives decisions. Also it being a spinoff and not part of the main show.

inb4 any "whiteknight" bullshit or "M&K coming to give me a kiss" like you aimed at the other person, everything I've stated is factual and using basic logic to push against intentionally spun bullshit to try to bash both the still living creatives as well as disgustingly their dead friend who showed more respect towards femmes than either you, fndmstruggles, or a large majority of rw/de has ever or will ever do. Especially given that rw/de is filled with sexists, homophobes, transphobes, and every other disgusting shitbag incel type there is that constantly bash femme characters for being the focus of the show and doing the damn thing; while latching onto any and every male they can. Also don't want or need a kiss, getting to tear into assholes like yourself is reward enough.

outfits

I just saw a post trying to argue that in RWBY the female outfits are more sexualized then the male cast.....because the female cast tends to "show more skin", and also part of this same post is talking about Jaune's armor and wondering if there is a story reason for that and questioning why more people don't wear armor in the show.

RWDE's once again showing their lack of understanding. First, the attire of the female cast is not really sexualized, especially compared to some redesings certain folks have made. Second, Monty and CRWBY purposlly put in "anti-upskit tech" so we see nothing when people like Ruby and Weiss do flips. Third, given the fact that things such as "individual identity" are part of the narrative it makes sense for the cast to be in outfits that are more focused on personal tastes rather than practicality. As for Jaune's armor, the story is about his growth. Jaune took the old hand-me-down armor and weapon and faked his way into Beacon because he wanted to follow in the footsteps of his forebearers. He wanted to be the big hero. He is stuck in the past. Then after The Fall he integrates some metal's from Pyrrha's gear and weapons into his newly reforged stuff. It isn't a lot, but now he carries his fallen partner with him. However he is more focused on offense, indicated by the Claymore Mode of his sword. After he talks with his team in Argus and they make it to Atlas he takes another step with a retooling of his gear. He gets more balance in his armor and his weapon focus turns to his shield which is now armed with a gravity dust reflector. But then things go wrong and he falls into the Ever After where he spends years allowing in his regrets as he is back to being stuck in the past, hence why even fully armored he is covered in rust. He hasn't properlly taken care of himself. When they get to Vacuo he will likely rebalance himself once more now that he can be with his team again and we will see a brand new look. As for why more character's don't wear armor, again it is purely aethsetic choice both in and out of universe. Out of univers, the character's without armor stand out more and feel more like the anime and video game characters that Monty and crew were inspired by, and this in turn lets the few with armor stand out in their own way as well. In-universe it lets more characters show their personal freedoms/limitations in their dress. It helps reflect parts of themselves. A number of folks in this fandom have already broken down such design choices.