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#and get voted off the second he lost
keefscafe · 1 year
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watching Survivor with my mom when a fully formed Survivor!AU but with rogue one/broader rebellion members sprang into my mind if only i could write
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5hrignold · 5 months
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glep being like thousands of years old has me wondering if that’s a critter thing like they either can be immortal or live to an absurd amount of time like that or it’s just a glep thing like it would be the case for him regardless of species
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disgustingtwitches · 2 months
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt. 3)
"All of us under one roof? Have you lost the plot?"
Gaz snorts, all of you sitting at the bar. You shake your head. The thought alone makes you dizzy.
"Just me and you is hectic enough."
Gaz stares at Soap. John laughs, sipping his scotch. You think for a moment before taking your shot. Wait a fucking second. You joke about how they have decided to make your flat nothing short of a base, and if they're gonna be at your place more than theirs they should at least pay some of your bills. They freeze. Johnny nearly jumps for joy, grabbing your face and kissing you,
"Smart fuckin girl. 'N' if we're paying 'er bills, might as weel move in aye?"
That is not what you meant.
"Who knows, maybe it'll stop them from trying to drag 'er in the walk-in."
John shrugs. They cannot be entertaining this bullshit.
"Doubt it."
Simon shoots back his glass. There's a pause. They look at each other. Oh my God they are entertaining this bullshit.
"I'll think about it."
Price finishes his drink. They talk like you're not even there. You're horrified. Four men and you. One apartment. Not just any men, them. Maybe this is all some sick joke.
"You can always say no."
Simon kisses you before you hop out his car. You're not sure if you believe that. Your phone buzzed in the middle of the night, it's the group chat. Soap sends a link to a three bedroom flat,
Thoughts?
Three dots pop up.
Ok.
Simon replies. That's the only they blessing needed to move forward.
Hectic does not describe the move-in process, there are arguments on who's furniture gets moved in, who sleeps where, who gets to use which bathroom. Eventually there was a vote held (not that it mattered, John always had final say).
Anything big enough to accommodate the five of you was moved in. There would be a bed rotation, making sure no one slept with Ghost and Soap at the same time (and if everyone got tired of their shit, there's three beds for a reason.) Gaz and Soap shared a bathroom upstairs, you shared the one downstairs with Ghost and Price (this made sure you and Kyle had enough space for both your skincare products.)
You barely wore your own clothes anymore; with a closet full of clothes that were comfy and looked good on you, why bother? All your love languages included physical touch, so at any given moment, someone was touching somebody in the house. Lots of shared showers to "save water". Simon mostly cooks with the occasional help of you or Johnny. Sunday roast meant the kitchen was off limits for everyone except Simon, God help anyone who even tries to step foot in his territory.
Holidays are chaotic, always loud with a lot of drinking. And sex. Your first Christmas together was particularly memorable. Of course everyone got gifts that they treasured, including you. But you didn't know what to get Simon. Of course he was the type to say he didn't want anything but, that wasn't right. He opened his gift from you, he stared at it, said a simple thank you and slid it into his pocket. There's a game of poker being played in the living room after gifts are opened. Simon leaves to the bedroom,
"M tired."
Everyone else says goodnight, too enraptured by the game. While there's an argument about Johnny's shuffling, you walk to the bedroom. There he is, cranking the little handle on the wooden music box you gave him; it played Danny boy, wasn't bigger than the palm of your hand, and had an engraving on the inside lid.
"It's the words on the first hoodie you gave me."
"Mhm. Didn't have to get me anything."
He says, still turning the handle. Avoiding eye contact. You sit next to him.
"Don't know if you know how much you mean to me, promise I'll show you though."
His voice the softest you've ever heard. He tucks the box back into his pocket. A quick kiss to your forehead before walking back to the living room with you. This was one of the many holidays Simon didn't have to spend alone anymore.
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wilwheaton · 3 months
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For some odd reason, moderator Jake Tapper told Trump in the beginning that he didn't need to answer the questions and that he could use the time however he wanted. Trump ran with that, essentially giving a rally speech whenever he had the floor and was unresponsive to the vast majority of the questions. He made faces and insulted Biden to his face, at one point calling him a criminal and a Manchurian candidate. If anyone had said 10 years ago that this would happen at a presidential debate they would have been laughed out of the room. After the debate when most of the country had turned off cable news or gone to bed, CNN aired its fact check. [...] Even had Joe Biden been at the top of his game, he would not have been able to parry all those lies and he shouldn't have been put in the role of being Donald Trump's fact checker. His choice was to either ignore the lies and let them stand so he could use his time to make his own case or spend the entire debate correcting the record. It was not a fair fight. It's obvious that Biden's terrible performance has caused panic among Democrats and liberal pundits and analysts. The calls for him to withdraw are loud and meaningful and it's going to be a very rough period in this campaign whatever happens. For me, this isn't really a question. As long as Donald Trump is on the ballot, I will vote for the Democratic nominee. If it's Biden or someone else, the calculation remains the same. Nothing is worse than another Trump administration and I suspect that at the end of the day Democratic voters will agree with that. So it's still a matter of those undecided voters in swing states, just like it was on Thursday morning.
CNN's debate was no fair fight
CNN, yet again, gave Trump a national stage to vomit an endless stream of unchecked lies, and today, CNN is telling itself and anyone who will listen that the network and its moderators did a great job. That’s just plainly false, and America is paying the price for their failure.
That doesn’t let Biden off the hook. Biden had a terrible night. He was so bad, it’s allowed the political press to completely ignore not just how much Trump lied, but what he lied about: January 6, all his indictments, his Covid response, and on and on. President Biden was a disaster, and his campaign should be at DefCon 1 to try and repair all the damage. I am terrified that his awful performance will obscure his surprisingly good record and leadership in the post-insurrection era, and give the political press an excuse to run with “Biden is old” in the face of Trump’s endless lies, his felony convictions, his pending trials, and all of his criminality. Someone at Salon said that Trump didn’t win, but Biden absolutely lost. I can’t argue with that, even if the facts are all on Biden’s side.
I’ve seen President Biden on TV today, and even last night after the debate, where he didn’t come across as an ancient dude who needs a walker on his way to some Matlock reruns. He looks and sounds like the SOTU Biden we all expected would show up last night. I have no idea why he was so awful for 99% of the debate (the campaign says he has a cold), and I have no idea why the guy who is showing up to speak to supporters today, and who delivered the SOTU didn’t show up last night to save America from Trump, again.
But we have to live with this reality now, and I hope like hell that the Biden campaign, the candidate, and the entire Democratic party apparatus scrambles like fucking crazy to get all hands on deck to fix this, and remind voters that
This isn’t about BIden vs. Trump. This is about America vs. Project 2025.
There will be no second debate where Biden can try to salvage something out of the wreckage of this one. Trump has everything to lose and nothing to gain. Trump will crow about how he won, and declare he has no reason to debate again, and he’s right. Biden had one shot and he absolutely blew it. The moderators did not help, but the campaign had to have known they wouldn’t, and it sure looks like they didn’t prepare Biden for what we all knew was coming. I don’t know how those same people stop the bleeding, and if they can’t, America and the world are in real, real trouble.
But we all have to remember that we have a choice to make in just a few months. Right now, and probably on election day, the choice is between Joe Biden and Democracy, or Donald Trump and Fascism. It’s stark, it’s clear, it’s binary, and I can not believe that it is even a question. I just hope that there are enough voters out there who will understand that we do have a choice. The options suck, but we do have a choice.
Please choose Democracy. Please choose America. Please choose the future world our children will inherit from us.
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robertreich · 1 month
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Project 2025: The MAGA Plan to Take Your Freedom 
A second Trump term would be more dangerous than the first — in part because of something called Project 2025, a plan to extend Trump’s grip into every part of your life.
Trump’s gross incompetence in his first term wasn’t all bad. It kept some of his most extreme goals out of reach. That’s why his inner circle, including more than 20 officials from his first term, have written a step-by-step playbook to make a second term brutally efficient.
At nearly a thousand pages, it’s longer than most Stephen King novels, and a lot scarier. The Associated Press wasn’t kidding when they called it “a plan to dismantle the US government and replace it with Trump’s vision,”
Project 2025 is a road map to ban abortion, give greedy corporate oligarchs everything they want, and strip Americans of our most basic freedoms — all without needing any support from Congress.
There’s more to it than I can get into, but here are three things I want you to know.
#1 How would Project 2025 work?
Every nonpartisan government agency would be turned into an arm of the MAGA agenda.
Some of the worst things Trump reportedly tried to do as president — like having the military  shoot protesters or seize voting machines to overturn the election  — were only stopped because sensible leaders in the military or the professional civil service refused to go along with it.
In a second term, there would be no sensible leaders in the military or professional civil service because Trump would fire anyone more loyal to the Constitution than to him.
Trump started the process in October 2020 with an executive order that would have let him fire tens of thousands of civil servants and replace them with MAGA henchmen. I’m talking about traditionally non-political positions, like scientists at scientific agencies and accountants at the IRS.
Trump could not act on the executive order then because he lost the election. If he wins now, he’s pledged to pick up where he left off and go further…
TRUMP: …making every executive branch employee fireable by the President of the United States.
#2 Project 2025 is about controlling Americans’ lives & bodies
Restricting abortion is such a big part of Project 2025 that the word “abortion” appears 198 times in the plan.
Trump largely made good on his campaign promise to ban abortion.
Thanks to Trump’s Supreme Court justices, 1 in 3 American women of childbearing age live in states with abortion bans. Project 2025 would make that even worse, without needing new laws from Congress.
Page 458 of the playbook calls for a MAGA-controlled FDA to reject medical science and reverse approval of the medications used in 63% of all abortions, effectively banning them.
Page 455 plans “abortion surveillance” and the creation of a registry that could put people who cross state lines to get an abortion at risk of prosecution.
Another way around Congress is to enforce arcane laws that are still technically on the books. Page 562 plans for a MAGA-controlled Justice Department to enforce the Comstock Act of 1873, which bans the mailing of “anything designed, adapted, or intended for producing abortion.” This could be used to block the shipment of any medications or medical instruments needed for abortions.
But Project 2025’s control of American families goes even further. It plans for government agencies to define life as beginning at conception — a position at odds with the process used for in vitro fertilization.
Page 451 declares that “Families comprised of a married mother, father, and their children are the foundation of a well-ordered nation and healthy society,” thereby stigmatizing single parents, same-sex couples, unmarried coparents, and childless couples.
Project 2025 even takes a stand against adoption, declaring on p. 489 that “all children have a right to be raised by the men and women who conceived them.”
#3 Project 2025 would turn America into a police state.
Maybe you live in a blue city or state, where you think plans like arresting teachers and librarians over banned books (which is on p. 5) could never happen. Well, guess again.
Trump has said one of the big things he’d do differently in a second term is override mayors and governors to take over local law enforcement.
Page 553 lays out how to do this, and even plans for Trump’s Justice Department to prosecute district attorneys he disagrees with.
Immigration enforcement is to be conducted like a war, with the military deployed within the U.S., and millions of undocumented immigrants rounded up and placed into newly constructed holding camps. This is outlined starting on p. 139.
Members of the Project 2025 team also reportedly told the Washington Post about plans to invoke the Insurrection Act to deploy the military against anti-Trump protests.
There is much more to Project 2025. There are more than a hundred pages of anti-environmental policies that would help Trump make good on what he reportedly promised to do for oil executives if they contribute a billion dollars to his reelection. It would make drilling and mining a top national priority while killing clean energy projects, barring the EPA from regulating carbon emissions, and replacing all government climate scientists with climate deniers.
There are even cartoonishly cruel plans like slaughtering wild horses. Yes, that’s really in there on p. 528.
I thought I understood the stakes of this election, but reading this plan… Well, it gave me chills. If Trump gets the chance to put this plan into place, he will. The country it would turn America into would be hard for any of us to recognize.
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One of the bats has to go undercover as a patient of a particularly suspect new and upcoming therapist. Bruce already has a backstory fleshed out and a cover identity, but that's no fun now is it.
Dick: Okay, the bat council is now in session. First things first-
Steph: I'm the realest.
Jason: Shut the fuck up.
Dick: No, no arguing. We're here on a MISSION.
Tim: That's right, a very important mission.
Dick: One of us has to go undercover as Dr. Hoffman's patient. But why? Why are we seeking therapy?
Tim: Wrong answers only. If any of you get too real, Dick can and will find you a real therapist.
Dick: And Tim, no superhero related answers. Bernard's PowerPoint nights give you too much of an advantage.
Tim: You're just jealous I know that Batman is actually a tulpa.
Jason: You shut the fuck up too.
---
Dick: Okay, I'll go first to get the obvious answer out of the way. I'm going because I'm secretly Batman, BUT I'm not here about that. I just have incredibly selective amnesia and can't remember the code to the Batmobile.
Jason: Oh that one's good. Let me think.
Steph: Hoffman is a man, right?
Dick: Right.
Steph: Easy, I'll claim womanly problems. Maybe get prescribed a vibrator.
Tim: *wheezes*
Dick: Ok Gotham's in the dark ages of psychology but not THAT much.
Steph: Spoilsport. Fine, I'm Batman's long lost twin sister.
Duke: Come on, we can't all go to therapy because of Batman.
Jason: I don't know, I feel like all of us should go to therapy because of Batman.
Cass: I'll go because I'm Batman.
Jason: I'd vote for you.
Duke: I think I would go because Metropolis isn't real.
Tim: Like, the whole city is-
Duke: It's a conspiracy. The government wants us to think there's this wonderful city where nothing bad ever happens and an actual alien from space saves the day. Tries to make us buy into some utopian bullshit.
Tim: Hoffman's just going to drive you there.
Duke: Ha! He's not getting ME to a secondary location. He might be in on it.
Steph: Compelling, definitely compelling. I nominate Duke's for first place.
Jason: Don't jump the gun.
Tim: Yeah, you haven't heard ours.
Steph: Well? Let's hear it then.
Tim: I'm an alien spy, sent here to study humans. Only I'm not doing well because I was taken in by rich people and they act weirder than me. I want to know what it means to be human, but whenever I look around all I see is how to make a good margarita. It makes me... sad.
Steph: That's no good. We said wrong answers only.
Jason: Solid four out of ten.
Tim: Fuck off.
Jason: I think I would go because I was convinced I was the second coming of Jesus which is all fine and good, but my whole family is Jewish so it's making things a little awkward at the dinner table.
Steph: You did come back from the dead.
Jason: I did and I'll tell him that. Took a little longer than three days this time, though.
Tim: Okay, I'll be honest. Jason and Duke's are the best.
Dick: Hold on- Damian, do you have an answer?
Damian: Of course. And not one so foolish.
Duke: Well?
Damian: Well, my whole family is comprised of vigilantes and I'm under a lot of stress to be one as well and continue the family tradition. I will of course swear him to secrecy and avoid naming any vigilantes by name.
Dick: ...
Jason: This is what I'm talking about. This is exactly what I'm-
Dick: Yes, okay. Game's over. All of you are getting psych referrals in your inbox by the morning.
Steph: What about-
Dick: Duke won.
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attapullman · 6 months
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Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops
A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘
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Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.
You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.
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The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.
From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 
To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 
He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.
You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.
She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.
The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.
Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.
W-why was Bob in your villa?
Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.
“What are you doing in here?”
What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”
Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.
“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 
Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 
You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”
“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 
You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.
Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”
God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”
Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.
“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.
You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.
“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”
You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”
“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”
Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?
And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.
Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.
Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 
Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.
“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”
You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?
Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”
You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”
Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”
Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”
“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.
“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”
You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.
And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 
“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”
“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.
You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.
And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.
Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?
And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”
It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 
Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.
There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.
Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.
“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 
You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”
She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”
You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.
By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.
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You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.
In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.
Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 
This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.
You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 
He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.
When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.
Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.
While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.
And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.
His eyes were so blue without his glasses…
Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.
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The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 
The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 
You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 
Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 
You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.
Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.
“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.
The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 
Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.
While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 
“What are you pretending to do?”
His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”
Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 
“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”
While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.
You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 
His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.
When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 
You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”
“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.
The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.
He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.
“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.
Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.
The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.
Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.
It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.
When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.
A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.
You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”
“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”
He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.
“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”
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little-diable · 3 months
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I won't share you – James Beaufort (smut)
Y'all voted for this fic, so I hope you'll show it some love. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader is Lydia's best friend, but that hasn't stopped her and James from starting their fling–a fling that turns into something more the second his jealousy gets the best of James.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, shower smut, jealousy, best friend's brother
Pairing: James Beaufort x fem!reader (2.6k words)
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“I hate this so much, and to think they’re only friends with me because of him.” Lydia kept rambling, words (y/n) barely paid attention to. For the past minutes, Lydia had recited her conversations with other friends, picking up on their crush on her twin brother, James. (Y/n) had tried to show compassion, had tried to tell Lydia that the girls weren’t just around because of James–all while hiding her own secret.
Hours ago she had been pressed against his chest, choking on his name while he buried himself deep inside of her. Her fingernails had left scratch marks on James’ back, barely remembering how they had ended up beneath tangled sheets the first time months ago.
It was a simple deal, they kept fooling around with one another while keeping it a secret from everybody. In the beginning she had felt guilty, knowing that her best friend would detest her for doing this behind her back. But while (y/n) had tried to reason with her guilt, her heart had gained the upper hand, reminding her of the crush she had never been able to shake, ever since they had met years ago. It was pathetic almost, how she crushed on a man who only turned towards her whenever he was in the mood for a quick lay.
“Anyway, you’ll come tonight, right? I need you there especially with this mess going on.” Lydia’s words ripped (y/n) out of her wandering thoughts. For a moment, she pondered over the question, wondering if she wanted to go to another party where she’d cross paths with James who’d find a new girl to flirt with in front of the others. But the pleading gaze Lydia shot her drew a tired sigh from (y/n), forcing her to nod her head.
“Of course I’ll be there, I promise.”
……
She shouldn’t have come. She should have stayed at home where her sheets still smelled of James’ expensive cologne. She should have stayed in her room where her memories allowed her to get lost in another daydream. Anywhere but here would be better for her mind and soul while (y/n) desperately tried to rip her eyes off his frame, away from the unbuttoned shirt that exposed his perfectly chiseled abs. 
Lydia had disappeared from her side a while ago, blending in with the others while greeting those she had whined about only hours ago. (Y/n) had tried to hold onto her best friend–though without any luck, forced to part ways as her gaze was glued to James who hadn’t looked at her once so far. 
Perhaps she should have left, disappearing without another word to make it back to the safety of her room. But her feet didn’t listen to her mind’s commands, guiding her towards the kitchen to find something strong she could use to silence her racing thoughts. 
Music was ringing in her ears, filling her body like a drug that whispered to her, begging her to stay for a little while longer. She sipped on her drink while her eyes wandered around the room filled with people she barely knew, catching the gaze of a guy who was already looking at her. He was handsome, tall enough to stand out, sporting dark hair and bright eyes that surely did their job with wooing girls who crossed paths with him.
(Y/n) could only watch how he pushed past people to find his way towards her, greeting her with a raspy “Hey” she barely picked up on. A soft smile began to widen on her lips as she intently studied him–he was cute, but he was no James Beaufort. 
“Wanna go outside? It’s too loud in here.” The guy didn’t wait for her reply. His warm hand found her wrist to gently guide her through the room and outside to the pool area. For a second, (y/n) thought that she had caught James’ gaze, finding the eyes she had last seen as he had fucked her in the early morning hours. But the moment had passed all too quickly, reminding her that James wouldn’t dare to even look at her at a place like this.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” She internally cringed at the nickname. With another sip of alcohol to guide the words off her lips, (y/n) tired to give herself a push. Perhaps this is what she needed, a nice enough distraction from the man she should finally let go of. Whatever fate was trying to tell her at that moment, she’d listen and follow the call. 
“It’s (y/n), what’s yours? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The guy stepped closer as she spoke, letting his hands rest on her waist almost as if they were dancing to the loud music. She wasn't uncomfortable, and yet she found herself thinking of ways on how to get out of this situation. If there was one thing she wasn’t interested in it was finding another guy who’d use her for his own distraction. 
“Mark, a friend of mine brought me here and I must say, I’m quite happy he did so.” Mark shot her a bright smile that left (y/n) chuckling. But the sound got stuck in her throat the second his hand wandered from her waist to her cheek. Fuck, she needed to get away from this guy, no matter how sweet he seemed to be, this wasn’t what she needed.
But (y/n) didn’t get far with overthinking her next move. While Mark slowly tilted his head down to cross the distance between them, (y/n) was yanked out of his touch and pulled back against a broad muscular chest. 
“What the fuck man?” Mark’s loud voice managed to break (y/n) out of her dazy state. She had to blink a few times before she allowed her eyes to wander from Mark’s angry features towards an all too familiar face. 
“Fuck off.” James spat the words at the guy before he turned (y/n) around in his grasp. It seemed as if he was making sure that she was alright, that she hadn’t been touched against her will. But while she should have focused on all these details, (y/n) could only focus on the fact that this was the first time James was interacting with her in a setting like this.
“What’s your problem? We were just having a nice time, right, (y/n)?” Mark spoke up once again. She felt his hand on her arm, and the second he began to tug on her, she knew that this situation would end in total chaos. And then everything happened all too quickly. One second she was pulled from James’ grasp, the next she found herself losing her balance and falling into the pool. 
Her clothes clung to her body as she resurfaced, having to brush her wet hair out of her features before she got a clear sight once again. She didn’t hear the loud words the two guys shared, she could only see how they stood all too close–about to escalate into an ugly fight if nobody intervened. From the corner of her eye, she watched Lydia hastily approach with their friends, instantly forcing a sinking feeling to settle in her stomach. 
Slowly, (y/n) swam towards the edge, allowing the sounds to grow more prominent once again. James didn’t seem to spare his sister a single thought as he turned from Mark to focus on (y/n). Their eyes held contact as he reached his hands out for her to take, pulling her out of the pool and back into his chest. 
(Y/n) didn’t dare meet her friends' gazes as James guided her past the growing group with his arm wrapped around her waist. No words were shared between them as he guided her towards her car. She kept her eyes glued to his features, the tickling jaw muscles that indicated his anger, the bright pupils that were stormy–a sight that robbed all air from her burning lungs. 
James’ hand disappeared in the pocket of her wet jeans to pull her car keys free, wordlessly opening the door for her before he rounded the car and began driving back to her place. She wanted to speak up, wanted to ask him why he had interfered like that, but the anger oozing off him begged (y/n) to stay silent, at least for now. 
Darkness lingered in the car as James broke the speed limit, seemingly desperate to make it to her place to speak about whatever had happened. Her heart was racing in her chest, unable to slow down as she relived the past moments, the clear look of jealousy that had swam in his eyes, and the anger that made heat pool between her thighs. She could only hope that the conversation they’d have any moment now could clear some of the confusion she felt.
But even as they arrived at her home did James stay quiet. All he did was guide her inside, wearily almost as if he hadn’t been there numerous times before. She gave him a few moments to finally break the silence, wanting him to be the first to say whatever he was plagued by, but James kept quiet. 
“I need to get out of these clothes, I’ll take a quick shower.” He nodded at her words, deep in thought. Her heart was aching for him, wanting to reach out and touch him, but her mind lured her away, whispering to her that he had no right to act like that when he had been the one to keep his distance in public. 
Her eyes found her reflection in her bathroom mirror as she stepped out of her wet clothes. The confusion she felt was clear on her face, stretching itself through every part of her. A part of (y/n) had always hoped that he’d finally cross that line and interact with her around others. Something she could cling to with hope simmering if inside of her–hoping that perhaps something could blossom between them, turning them into something more sincere. But now that the lines had begun to blur, (y/n) found herself fearing what was laying ahead of her.
The hot water cascaded down her back as she found shelter in her shower. She didn’t hear James stepping into the room, didn’t hear his clothes dropping to the ground. A soft gasp left (y/n) the second he pressed himself against her back, letting his arms wrap around her from behind. James’ lips kissed the back of her neck, forcing goosebumps to rise on her body even though the water running down their limbs was all too warm by now. 
“I’m sorry.” She could tell that it pained him to apologise, knowing that it was one of the many things his father had never taught him. Her hand found his, interlacing their fingers while she silently begged him to keep on speaking, to explain to her why he had escalated like that. “Seeing you with him switched something inside of me, I got so angry at him but mainly at myself. I have been so fucking stupid.”
“Why?” It was nothing more than a whisper, a sound so small, (y/n) feared the water would swallow it wholly. James free hand began to wander down south, he stroked her soft skin, caressing every inch before finding her heat. Her heart picked up its beat, very well understanding what he was planning on doing. 
“Because you’re mine and it took me until today to understand it. I won’t share you with anybody else.” His slender fingers circled her pulsing bundle, leaving her gasping while tightening her grip on his hand. James’ warm breath teased the spot where her shoulder met her neck, it felt as if he tried to pull himself even closer, needing to feel every part he intended on owning. 
“Do you truly mean it? Because I also don’t want to share you with anybody else.” Her voice trembled, shaking as if she had been chased by him, about to trip over her own two feet. His fingers brushed through her slit, collecting drops of arousal before slowly pushing into her. (Y/n)’s moans filled the bathroom, echoing off the walls that knew their every secret, listening to their whispered conversations whenever they found shelter inside of here. 
“I mean it, you’re mine, (y/n).” Without another warning, he pulled his fingers away to turn her around in his grasp. Their lips met for a breathless kiss, drawing gritty sounds from them while allowing their bodies to guide them. Without breaking apart, James lifted her off her feet to pull her legs around his waist with her back pressed against the shower tiles. 
“Let me fuck you like you deserved to be fucked, baby.” The world could end, could stop in its rotation and be swallowed by darkness. The stars could fall from the sky and let people escalate into an unstoppable chaos. No matter what was about to happen, he wouldn’t let go of her, would only focus on (y/n) and the love growing between them. 
Her moan was all James needed to guide his cock towards her entrance, to disappear deep inside of her like he had done numerous times before. But even though he had fucked her for months now, this moment felt different, more sincere, more loving than anything both had experienced before. 
“I love you so much, James.” She sobbed the words against his lips, chasing them for another clashing kiss that could lure her into her end. James Beaufort was her end and her beginning, a love story she had always longed for. He was everything she needed, fulfilling the unspoken longings she had been too scared to admit. 
“I love you too, fuck, you’re perfect.” His body met hers with every ferocious thrust, set on pushing them closer together–the first time as a proper couple swearing to stick to one another’s side. The moment had something almost cheesy to it, something so loving they struggled to put it into words. 
Her walls fluttered around him, pulling James even closer with her eyes getting lost in his blue ones. It felt as if he kept every secret this world knew hidden in his pupils, harbouring them for whatever reason. She never wanted to stop looking at him, the one who held her heart in his hands as if it was his most prized possession.
With every thrust, he brushed against her swollen spot, making her see black dots in her vision. She was close, would let go all too soon, and yet she didn’t mind it, didn’t mind losing herself to James once again. Their eyes stayed connected as she came around his cock, choking on his name like a prayer leaving her lips. 
James gave it more thrusts to chase his high, forehead pressed against hers, arms flexing to tighten their grip on (y/n). She watched him fall apart with a heavy groan and his cum leaving its stain on her walls. A perfect mess neither of them ever wanted to part from. 
“You’re mine, never forget that, baby.”  
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4pfsukuna · 8 months
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Kings get jealous too
Yall voted and honestly the thought of Jealous!sukuna was tooooo good to not write. Reader is black (happy black history month btw). Sukuna does not like to share… or have anyone touch whats his why would a king have to?
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The vibrations of my phone for the 3rd time was finally begining to annoy me so with eyes still closed i reach around the bed only to slap something warm and firm.
“Still here sweetheart” i hear the raspy voice of sukuna i dont need to look at him to know hes smirking and my eyes shoot open making direct eye contact.
Finally reaching for my phone hoping to get some sort of clarity i see 100 missed calls, 43 text messages, 17 instagram post. The safest option was to go through my messages as i try to gain memory of why this idiot was in bed next to me.
“Oh sweetheart do you not remember?” He chides cockily and i sit up seeing a picture that nearly killed me. My tongue out… against Sukunas sternum in a secluded corner of the club with him smirking devilishly at me and the next of him carrying me out his hands firm on my ass.
The club.
The club!
Housing yuji had been no problem at all, owing a favor to Gojo i was glad when this was all he needed. Yuji itadori was sweet kind always cleaned after himself and was a genuine pleasure to have around even cooking when away on missions.
The issue? The fact that he was a vessel for a 1000 year old king of curses that was a complete pain in the ass who gets a thrill out of you especially finding out i was kazumi Honoka and had i not resented my family could easily match Gojo or top him . The Honoka clan known for the most powerful flame and fire weilding sorcerers every few generations, squeaky clean image rich and arrogant just as the other powerful clans.
“Sukuna the only reason your not dead is because i havent found a way to exercise you from yuji i know for a fact i could kill you” i seethe only to be met with silence. I hated being ignored and he would do it on purpose as if his pathetic ass being housed by a child was better than me. Growling i pull a dagger from my waist band and swing it at Yuji necks who looks at me in fear but Sukunas mouth breaks through his neck biting the dager making it crumble into a million pieces as if it was nothing more than a cracker.
“You dont even know how to fully weild your cursed energy sweetheart, i could have you dead in 10 seconds and with the remaining 9 dance over your corpse” his mouth cackles from the side of Yujis neck.
This was a typical tuesday morning for us.
“Yet you’re only a pathetic excuse of what you used to be. King of curses yet you’ve been trapped inside of yuji for years how lame” i degrade a sneer on my face as i adjust my shirt.
“I— should we do something about this” Megumi ask from next to Nobara on the couch who looks concered and ready to break us up but not sure how plates of breakfast getting cold. It wasnt even 11am yet.
“No. This is a typical Tuesday it’s kind of like foreplay for them. Usually she ignores him or teases back unless she had a difficult mission” Yuji informs them before shoving another pancake in his mouth and of course he noticed the differences in our interactions i was the only one Sukuna really interacted with anyway.
“How was it?” Nobara looks at me and i sigh. I nearly died because i lost my footing tripping over my own tube of fenty lip gloss, how could i ever admit that.
“Pffft, struggling with a puny curse yet you think you could take me on? You make me laugh, brat” and thats what makes me lose it and ignite the fire flames on my hands my eyes matching as i do cause a groan from Yuji.
“I havent even finished breakfast yet can i atlea—“
I cut him off.
“Release him” i fume cracking my knucles making the flames bigger my breakfast completely forgotten about.
“Yeah release me brat so i can finally have my moment with her” he snaps back at yuji and this time I smirk the fire on my hands dulling.
“If thats what you wanted that’s all you had to say, it’s childish to be mean to a girl you like. Unfortunately you’re not my type” i grin patting Yuji cheek where Sukunas mouth was only to feel his sharp teeth nip at my hand.
“Youre nothing like the women i had keeping my bed warm just like you’re silly little technique you wouldnt know what to do with me” he chides back the two on the couch getting whiplash from how fast our conversation changes and how quick our comebacks are for another.
“See, foreplay” Yuji utters to them as he finishes his plate of pancakes satisfied with his belly being full leaning back on his seat.
“Well we were going to celebrate you getting back and figure you could use a night out since returning from your mission, but it looks like you definitely need it” Megumi speaks up motioning between myself and Yuji.
————————————————————-
Giggling with Nobara as we take a 6th shot of casamigos to see who would tap out first watching a woman try to flirt with  Megumi who's completely oblivious or just awkward at flirting.
“What's the deal with you and Sukuna? Girl to girl like i didn't even know he spoke unless he had full control” she prys bumping my shoulder which i roll my eyes at.  “Please Yuji told me how he always has an eye on you, always ask about you when you're not around and flirts with you relentlessly”
“He also pesters me” i add sipping the lemon drop the bartender placed infront of us mentioning it was on the house.
“Anything to keep your attention” she smirks while taking another shot. “It’s why he’s taken over Yuji yet instead of burning the entire world down he’s watching you”.
And he is, black tattoos adorned his body as he sits on the sofa eyes piercing through the crowd focused directly on me. Maybe it was the curiosity maybe it was the alcohol but i was tempted to test her theory. 
Swiping another coat of lipgloss over my lips and adjusting my shirt so my boobs were perked up with a quick hair fluff i turn to the guy at the end of the bar Whos been covering our tab for drinks.
“Hello handsome” i grin taking the stool next to him watching the instant lust build in his eyes. I could still
Feel his eyes on me and its only right to give him a show.
The man on the stool looks over at me, double taking before adjusting his posture to give me his full attention.
“My my tonight must be my lucky night an angel like you gracing me with your presence” he praises the strong smell of alcohol on his breath as he twirls one of my dark curls around his finger releasing it with a spring.
“Move” and Sukunas glare is deadly biceps rippling under the club light his shirt long gone.
“Hey pal” the man says setting a hand on Sukunas shoulder unaware of just what was about to happen and i couldnt even warn him my eyes never left the king of curses. 
Without breaking eye contact he grabs the mans hand crushing it the sound of bones crushing couldn’t be hidden by the loud music but i still could only focus on sukuna.
“Wipe the smug look off your face” he grumbles stepping closer the heat of his body rolling off onto me.
“Lord Sukuna, king of curses the almighty and powerful isnt… jealous?” I giggle watching as he takes the shot left behind by the man scowling as he takes the shot next to it as well.
“Dont humor me, he was weak and undeserving. Plus if something happened to you Yuji would never shut up” he… rambles? Oh he was so jealous. Fire literally comes out of my hand unless that man controlled water and in copious amount what harm would he truly bring me.
 “So if i were to go home with him and sleep with him you wouldnt be jealous in the slightest? And i mean hours of letting him have his way with me—“ to which he scoffs rolling his eyes in disgust.
Sukuna wasnt a man of many words more so action so i could talk all i wanted but the best reaction id get was from action. And i knew just how to pull it from him.
“Not even if i did this?” I ask but before he has a chance i bend down coming eye level with his abdomen and drag my tongue from the begining of the black mark to where it ends on his chest smirking when i come eye level with him watching as something dark ignites in his eyes.
___________________________________
When we get home theres not a surface left untouched that he doesnt have me against. Pressing me into the front door as he bites down my neck licking and sucking over my pulse.
“Suk—mmmm” the moan comes out of me as he tugs on my earlobe with his mouth his hands feeling like hot fire on my body. He begins to pull me further in but i pull back giggling at his look of dissatisfaction. 
“I gotta take m’shoes off” im sure i slur my words slightly only to be picked up and placed on the top of the black velvet couch my feet on the seat cushion giving him easier access. Im shocked by how gentle he is untying the straps from around my calfs before he gets frustrated ripping them off.
“SUKUNA!” I yell watching the coy smirk on his face and he leaves a kiss on my calf.
“Whaaaat?” Before another kiss is placed on my knee followed by my inner thigh and right when i think hes going to go under my skirt he switches to my other leg the warmth spreading in my core and i wanted him to stop teasing. 
“Sukuna” i groan but it instead comes out as a sigh feeling his thumbs massage into my inner thigh extremely close to my core as i feel his breath over my underwear.
“Tell me.” He grunts against my core the vibrations shaking my whole insides and maybe my body was just sensitive to him because i could definitely cum just like that. “Tell me what i want”
And hes placing kisses over my pussy through my underwear moaning and something about him wanting me so bad he would kiss me through my underwear turned me on even more. I’m sure he could tell because its not long before his tongue is poking at the sides making me shiver.
“Give me what i want” i counter to prideful to beg alcohol be damned the arrogant grin on his face doesnt budge as he pulls me down so im on the seat easily throwing my legs over his shoulders. Long fingers brush my wet folds as he hooks his finger in my underwear, a lewd comment about me being so wet for him my thongs were clinging to it in a way his tongue would replace.
And hes not lying, he places one long lick from my hole all the way up to my clit, a light swirl around before placing a peck and I feel electric. My head luls back as he uses two fingers to spread my lips open giving easier access to my clit which he sucks kisses licks and moans against.
“Fuck” he groans against it placing a wide open mouth tongue kiss on my pussy and i arch into him? Away? Im not sure my eyes slam shut when i realize hes kissing my pussy the same way he was kissing me against the door and the pure lewdness of his mouth being full of me. The wet smacking sounds were being drowned out by my moans and cries of his name and with a particular flick of his tongue on my clit i launch forward squeezing my thighs around his head which seems to entertain more than bother him.
“Eyes on me” he moans against me tapping my thighs twice and i couldnt even remember shutting them. His lips apply more pressure as my hands get lost in his hair holding him in place which seems to egg him on his motions becoming filthier with every flick of his tongue.
He pushes me back before his wide palms squeeze my thighs grunting as he continues his assault licking me in ways that would leave a mark on my mind before tongue-fucking me which is what sends me into the spiral of cuming for the first time. (And embarassingly fast)
“So delicious” he murmurs licking up every drop and i can feel my heart pounding in my ears as i try to catch my breath. It took him less than five minutes to have me in a puddle, figuratively and literally and my brain scrambled. 
Pulling me forward by my chin he places an aggressive kiss on my lips leaving me dizzy as i taste myself on his lips until he quickly pulls back standing up beckoning me to follow him.
“We need to get you to bed” he speaks and i miss the taunt in his voice taking it as being scolded instead which makes me stop the cold of the hallway floor settling on the pads of my feet.
“What?!” I snap and he raises a brow facing me the taunt evident on his face.
“Unless you want something from me, tell me sweetheart” And it’s nothing more than an attempt to get me to beg but i was entirely not going to. I would never, no matter how mad i wanted him to rearrange my insides.
“No?” He ask cupping my jaw roughly his thumb grazing my bottom lip rubbing the juices on my lip— the moment he fucks up.
Using my tongue to wrap it arround his thumb before sucking it into my mouth watching the desire come full force in his eyes. I release it with a small pop sound a string of saliva connecting his finger to my lip his eyes never moving from it.
“I mean i know you like when i lick your marks up your chest but what about down?” I whisper before my tongue drags down the black lines down to the waist band of the pants pulling them down watching his dick spring out yet the weight, length and girth stops it from springing completely against his abdomen. 
My mouth waters at the sight and i feel myself sink down to my knees keeping eye contact wrapping my acrylic fingers around it. Theres a drip of precum as i slowly begin to pump that i chase with my thumb smearing it against the tip.
Removed from my trance i feel his large hand cup my jaw roughly and the other replace my hand over his length giving a few slow pumps so i eagerly stick out my tongue knowing exactly what he wants to do.  He taps it on my tongue twice before slowly pushing it in my mouth keeping direct eye contact the whole time listening to the way his breath stops as he hits the back of my throat. He feels heavy in my mouth in the most delicious way causing me to moan and give a slight suck.
Its the soft groan that he makes that encourages me to take control pulling back slighty before pushing him all the way down my throat one hand at the base making a twisting motion while the other massages his balls this time earning a “fuck baby” and i almost tease him about it but my mouth was… full.
Pulling back once more for air i swirl my tongue around the tip collecting every drop of precum before licking my way down to his balls and taking them in my mouth. His leg twitches and his eyes are on me with a blown eyed gaze as i swish them around my mouth sending him a wink the smirk coming back.
“Youre such a— fuck… brat taking my dick like this in the…” he stops for a second going to reach for my hair and i almost send a glare until i realize hes just moving it off my shoulders. Hollowing my cheeks and sucking hes brought back to his words. “In the hallway, so hungry for me arent you” he growls 
Moving my mouth back onto his length taking him 4 more times down my throat my hand replacing where my mouth previously was before continuing a bobbing motion. The pace of my bobbing matching the pace of my hand twisting before his hands start caressing my cheeks using it as leverage.
“Such a good girl” he begins stuttering eyes rolling back head falling against the wall. His hips began moving and im not even sure he realizes it and hes fucking my face at a quick pace muttering words in a language that i couldnt identify— maybe something prehistoric.
“Throat so.. mmf… so good, such a good brat. FUCk” he growls when i gag but doesnt stop for a second just continues his rambling. “My brat, youre taking every inch so fucking… so fucking” he holds my head in place as if hes trying not to cum to quick.
Shit thats exactly what hes doing!
Tapping his thigh to gain his attention, the same way he did to me I internally smirk the moment his eyes meet mine and I know exactly what kind of thing would make him release. Slowly pushing down until my nose hits his pelvis as I pull back I give him the longest blink I can exaggerate without looking crazy letting the tears prick my eyes without falling giving the base of his dick and balls a slight squeeze moaning the entire time.
“You fucking demon— nnghhhh”he moans as ropes of his cum shoot down my throat his hips twitching as he holds me in place trying to keep his eyes on me. after hes satisfied everydrop is in my mouth not a single one gone to waste He finally lets my face go before im being pulled up by the front of my shirt. His lips are on mine as hes groping me like my clothes dont exist his hands running all over my body pulling me in closer. 
His tongue swirls in my mouth and its like a mix of both of us before i playfully bite down on his bottom lip feeling him harden against my hip making me grin. He likes it rough i could be as rough as i wanted and hed probably just love it even more.
My legs wrap around his waist the moment he picks me up walking the rest of the way to my room and placing me on the bed pulling me shirt over my head and to inpatient for my skirt and underwear he rips them off. Climbing over me he places a few teasing bites up my neck marking up what hadn't already been marked before pulling back slightly to line himself up with my entrance.
I assume hes going to tease but the squelch and sudden burn of him pushing in makes the corner of my eyes prick with tears only brought back by the sounds of his grunts.
“And you fucking thought id let you go hone with another man and hed have this view of you cock drunk already and all ive done was slide halfway in” he chuckles darkly and i look at where we are connected.
HALFWAY?
“Eyes on me brat” and my leg is thrown over his shoulder before he leans forward giving me a bruising thrust. Well clearly i bit off more than i could chew. His thrust are fast and heavy but not painful. He rolls his hips and my hands fly up to his chest.
Hold on what was this. He sends a handful more thrust just like that with the same force… no not force pressure and i can feel my mouth watering. These werent the quick hard and fast strokes i was expecting. Sure they were rough but—
His large hand throws my other leg over his shoulder pulling a high pitched moan from me and he was entirely to deep inside of me. Its a particular thrust that hits a spot deep inside of me causing my eyes to cross and i nearly push him off of me had it not been for our position.
“Ahhhh looks like i found that sweet spot” he taunts thrusting into it again and i bite my bottom lip trying to hold in the moans. “Cute attempt” and before i could ask what he means he leans forward so were chest to chest and if he wasnt deep before he definitely was now.
“Fuck” he growls against my ear continuing his assault my eyes only catching the way every muscle ripples in his back. He was making his mark and not just sucking and biting but engraving his self in my memory. Every thrust every roll of his hips its like he was trying to make sure i wouldnt forget drunk or sober. Its slight caresses that turn to grips, hip rolls that turn to strong thrust that rattle my whole body bites thats followed by his tongue flicking over them.
The orgasm begins to build and i feel the wetness already sliding down making him grunt picking up the pace. 
“S-sukuna!” It rocks through me before i have time to warn him but he doesnt stop just continues to fuck me through it his chuckles a distant thought it my head.
“You were so jealous” i mutter through heavy pants the only thought i could hold onto before he's pulling out and i'm flipped onto my stomach his length pushed back in this time his hand snaking under me to play with my clit his strokes different this time. 
His fingers are going fast yet his strokes are slow are taunting his balls slapping against me the contrast sends me into another orgasm my brain telling me to fight back. 
“The next time you think IM jealous of another man some puny mortal remember i can make you cum in 30 seconds” he grunts in my ear and i know theres a glare on his face. But he doesnt stop he alternates the pace of his fingers and thrust making me moan out trying to hold back long forgotten.
“You look so delicious” he moans and the sound has my toes curling. He drops half of his weight on me as his other hand comes around grabbing my neck lifting me up so I can see our reflections in the mirror. His maroon eyes were dark and getting darker with lust as we made eye contact through the mirror and for a second my mind turns to mush the only thought was how good he felt with every thrust and pinch of my clit.
“Look at you… fuck falling apart under me” he grunts a smile building on his lips before he licks them gripping tighter on my neck. “You look so perfect taking my cock like this. Getting so… youre making such a mess on me. Youre pussy is so tight and warm and the way youre clenching when i talk… shit. You must like my voice” his grin grows and i look away but the way i clench around him gives me away im sure.
His hand moves from my clit leaving three stinging SMACKS. His grip grows tighter on my throat forcing me to look at him again in the mirror, his hand squeezing over my cheeks.
“Sukuna” i snap or try to but it only comes out as a stuttering moan which satisfies him. 
“Don't look away” he growls and when hes sure im not going to try again he places his hand back on my clit.
“Im not jealous,” he tries to prove his point but it was lost on me i didnt even care i was in complete bliss.
“I can fuck you better than him. He was just going to turn into a boy and jackrabbit you. He wouldnt know what to do with all the woman you are. Me…JEALOUS? No im leaving my mark youre going to remember every touch, lick, bite, shit and thrust. Thats real punishment. Ruining you for every man after me. They couldnt fuck you like this” he rants a deranged look in his eyes before his speed increases and of course.
He wasnt some 20 something year old guy he was a 1000 year old curse with years of experience in torture. Brute force was a mere quick thing and nothing about this was quick.
“Sukuna im going to…” i whine kicking my legs feeling the pressure build up and it was becoming to much for me. I try to thrust back to push him off but that sinister smile grows the widest ive ever seen and instead he pulls me to my knees by my hip. It instead becomes leverage as he uses his other hand to push my back down creating an arch as his pace comes to the fastest its been all night finally pushing in all the way the tip hitting the spot that made my eyes cross again.
“Oh… OH” he chuckles as he watches my fist curling in the blankets the moans no longer quiet but loud screams im sure my neighbors would complain about tomorrow but i couldnt care. 
“Feels good doesnt it, i should make you beg to cum, i should edge you. I shouldnt even.. fuck.. youre lucky youre so pretty i shouldnt even let you cum for even entertaining him. Were you trying to piss me off?” He growls but it all falls on deaf ears. My own shrieks of pleasure are the only thing i can register.
“But since youre here… under me and that stunt you pulled? At that silly little club? Ill be nice just this once brat.” He moans his thrust becoming sloppy as if the thought of me licking him turns him on. 
“Cum for me” he pinches my clit sending me into my demise the hot ropes of cum from him shooting inside of me as his grunts get louder while he rides out our orgasms. 
“Good girl” is the last thing i hear before darkness takes over.
_________________________
Sukuna isnt prepared to glance at the clock at 4:37am. Sure he wasnt fully sleep but being prepared for the brown skinned fire sorceress to wake him up 10 minutes ago for another round was the last thing he expected.
Sukuna loved every second of it. She wasnt like past women who wanted to made sure they just pleased him oh no she wanted to conquer him.  find every kink, every sensitive spot any twist of her hips or clutching of his core that made him putty for her and exploit it. Biting him, sucking on his neck, hair pulls and even slight chocking— ok it was nothing slight about it at all, even when she pins his arms above his head he was losing his senses because everything was her.
She had the audacity to try this and look so fucking good doing it. It was no longer him fucking her but dhe was fucking him and damn did it feel good. She was marking him every inch of his body stating her claim and he nearly felt pride, his brat, fuck did she know how to get him going. So prideful she wouldnt even cum again until he did even if that means he did have to snake one of his hand down to pinch her clit watching her tears come down her face as she fights so strongly.
Sukunas proud and for a moments forget this isnt his body just a mere vessel but hes so proud of her he wants to drop his whole load and really claim her as his own but things are a bit complicated right now. But hes so prpud of her being so strong taking every inch and seeing the lengths of her stubotness but fuck does he want her to cum. He needs to feel the way she cums arounds him and watch as the cream builds up at where their bodies meet, he needs to see that pure look of bliss and feel the desperation as her body clings to his. But he can talk her through it.
“H-hey sweetheart, look at me” he growls angry she had him stuttering and with a sharp thrust upward to meet hers she whines looking down at him.
“What?! Y-youre —-mmmm fuck… youre fucking up my pace” she seeethes through clutch teeth pulling roughly on the hair at the nape of his neck his moans unable to be hid at the pure pleasure.
“Sorry sweetheart” he falsely apologized repeating the thrist again feeling her clench. “Just wanna say youre doing so good, taking me dick so good just like you should” he sits up watching as she adjust using his shoulders for leverage.
“Listen to it… every sound, squelch— youre gripping me soooo tight. I could fuck you all night, loose myself in it. Its so wet and warm and your taking every inch like a good brat for me, my brat” he breathes in her ear before bringing her jaw so theyre eye to eye once more.
“I cant wait to watch you cum for me again, make a mess all over your dick.” He tells her watching as she tries to close her eyes and he sends another rough thrust forcing her eyes back open.
“You have 5 seconds to give it all to me” he tells her darkly left hand going to her clit as a threat not rubbing or moving just pressing into her.
“4” and she presses her forehead against his
“3” he smirks as her hips become erattic the whimpers increasing from her mouth.
“Sukuna!” She snaps digging her nails into his back holding on tighter to him. He grins kissing the side of her head thumb not moving from her clit but pressing harder.
“2” and the wet sounds increase  letting him know he was more than capable of talking her… counting her through it.
“I hate you” she moans releasing all over him sending him into an orgasm as well thrusting his hips so they can both ride it through only stopping when he feels her body slump against his.
“I hate you so much” she speaks through ragged breaths as he leans back never pulling out and he chuckles kissing her head again pushing her hair out of her face.
_____________________________________
“So youre telling me…” i trail off completely speachless when all the memories from last night come back and i can feel everywhere he touched like it was burned into my skin.
His arms rest behind his head the holds that cocky smirk and lazy look in his eye as if i forgot his moans.
“You fucked me like that because you were jealous?” I giggle once more watching as his glare comes back
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suashii · 5 months
Note
kuroo + making dinner ノ a late night snack wif him in a college au ? i hope ur week treats u well bbie <3
such a cute suggestion — thank u for sending it! hopefully u enjoy :3
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you’re usually better about not leaving a mess by the door when you return to your apartment, but tonight is different. you can’t help but messily kick off your shoes and shed your book bag in the growing pile at the entrance. after a long, draining study session, you can’t be bothered to keep a clean house at the moment. anyway, once you catch sight of your carelessness in the morning, you’re sure you’ll be rushing to pick things up.
“hmm,” you hum, stretching your arms above your head. the action feels good after being stuck in a chair for the past few hours and it seems like now that you’re home, just within reach of your bed, the exhaustion is finally catching up to you. “to eat or to sleep…” you ponder over your choices.
“i vote for the former.” kuroo chimes in from behind you. he replicates your movements, dropping his bag and stretching a bit before he turns and makes his way to the kitchen. “food is fuel, you know,” he tells you matter-of-factly.
“yeah, well, so is sleep. and that sounds like it’ll take a lot less energy than eating.”
he snorts at your reasoning as he surveys the contents of the refrigerator. it’s more bare than he remembers it being—the two of you are past due for a trip to the grocery store. still, he doesn’t let that stop him from trying to convince you to stay up just a little longer for a meal. “fair, but we skipped dinner. you should try to stomach something small at the very least.”
your bed is calling your name, you can hear its tempting whispers from down the hall, but you sigh and nod, joining kuroo in the kitchen to find a replacement for the dinner you missed in favor of reviewing powerpoints. the task seems like a tall one when you get a look in the fridge.
“what do you suggest?” you ask from beside him, “loose lunch meat doesn’t sound too bad.”
he laughs and pinches your arm at your unserious approach, which earns him a pinch back for ever daring to pinch you. 
“what about ramen?” kuroo proposes, lifting an arm to open the cabinet that holds your shared supply of noodles. unsurprisingly, there’s quite a selection of instant ramen at your disposal. “we’re never short on that.”
you take a few seconds to consider it before agreeing—something quick and warm should be satisfying enough.
“take your pick.” kuroo gestures to the multiple differing packages and you point at one—your favorite brand—for him to pull down. he grabs that and one for himself, closing that cabinet and opening the one that houses your pots. the kitchenware clangs loudly as they knock against each other but kuroo doesn’t seem to mind as he juggles the two, carrying them to the sink to fill them with water.
you busy yourself with opening the colorful packages and fishing out the seasoning packs while kuroo brings the pots of water to a boil. other than the gas from the stove and the occasional rustling  of  plastic, a still quiet falls over the kitchen. it’s far from tense or awkward and there’s a beauty that comes with it—being able to enjoy the company of someone without having to share words. and it isn’t lost on you how kuroo tries to take on the bulk of the work, emptying flavor packs and stirring the contents before you get the chance to grab the chopsticks.
he even pours the noodles into your preferred bowl and takes it over to your tiny dining table for you.
“i would have eaten this straight from the pot, you know,” you tell him, sliding into the chair and picking up your utensils to dig in. 
he’s known you long enough to be able to read between the lines of your speech—what you really mean to say is that he made extra dishes that you have no intention of washing. it makes him smile on the other side of the table. “i can handle the dishes.”
“don’t worry, i’ll help you,” you say in between bites. you hold his gaze, blowing on the noodles hanging from your chopsticks. “as long as we do it in the morning.”
he swallows a bite of his own. “deal.”
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loonylupinblack3 · 6 months
Text
Early Mornings
Pairing: Mark Webber x Reader
Warnings: none :)
Summary: just some short fluff with husband!markwebber
Word count: 0.6k
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The sound of your husband's incessant alarm woke you up from your slumber. You groaned, opening your eyes groggily as the heavy weight around your waist disappeared, Mark's hand finding the alarm and turning the god awful sound off.
You felt his arm wrap around your waist again, Mark's stubble brushing against your cheek, pressing a kiss on your skin as he whispered in your ear.
"Morning," he murmured, voice gravelly.
You made a sound of complaint, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the pillow. Mark laughed, lazily stroking your bare arm with his finger.
"Come on Love," he urged quietly. "We've got to get up now."
You whined, rolling over into your husband's chest. His arms wrapped around your body on instinct, holding you close. "Five more minutes."
He laughed again, brushing your hair from your face. "I'm afraid not Darling. We've got the race today."
You groaned. "I thought you retiring meant I didn't have to wake up early for these things anymore."
Mark shook his head at your attitude, at your unwillingness to leave the comfort of your shared hotel room, the soft sheets and warmth of his embrace.
So he pulled away, removing his arms from you and leaving the bed. You whined again, pouting at him as you cracked your eyes open. Mark just grinned, moving forward to kiss you on the head before walking away, no doubt to get ready.
You closed your eyes again, savoring the short amount of rest you had left, even though knowing you'd regret it later when you were rushing to get ready on time.
What felt like seconds later but were no doubt minutes your husband was back, hands gently shaking your shoulders. "Now you really do need to get up."
You let out a huff but managed to sit upright, wincing as the bright lights assaulted your vision. Mark smiled and rewarded you with a chaste kiss, a hand going to the back of your head as he did so. His lips tasted fresh, minty, from brushing his teeth.
As he started leaning back you pulled him close, a hand going to his waist and tugging him forward until he lost his balance, falling on the mattress. You grinned and climbed on top of him before he could get back up.
"I vote we stay here," you said.
Mark sighed at your antics but he was smiling, staring at you with quiet adoration. "You know we can't. It's Oscar's home race. We have to be there for him."
At the mention of Oscar, your husbands protégé and what was a son like figure to you, your determination to stay in bed cracked slightly. Enough for Mark to slide you off him and coax you out of the sheets.
"Come on Darl, I promise I'll make it up to you."
You narrowed you eyes at Mark, wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands finding your waist like they always did. "You promise?"
He smiled. "I promise."
You deliberated for a moment longer, all the while your husband's hands roamed your back, trailing up and down your spine, following your curves, kneading your flesh, touching you in any way he could, one of Mark's favourite things to do, before you sighed.
"Fine. Let me get ready."
Mark smiled and kissed you on the cheek. "Knew you had it in you."
You grumbled as you untangled yourself from him, walking into you en-suite to finally start getting ready. "I'm holding you to that promise.
Mark smirked as you disappeared from view, murmuring under his breath, "I wouldn't expect anything different.
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bendyartistic · 2 months
Text
Be aware of alexbstudios.
Over the course of what I believe a few months maybe, Alex has been harassing me with strange behavior and as of recent hurtful remarks too. He's been bothering other people as well from what I've seen. Probably going to say I should've just blocked him, but I wanted to keep an eye on things just in case. Today was the point in time after everything that I realized I should let people know about this kid.
I want to show from the beginning to present time of the interactions he's done with me. And maybe something can be done about getting him off the platform...
Firstly I want to say Alex has admitted to being 12 years old... apparently. I know this from this reblog. This already is a very large red flag. Considering the young age, no a callout doesn't seem right but I still want to warn people regardless since he's still active on the platform.
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Though I am uncertain if this is true, he did not confirm nor deny my question about it.
Now lets get to the start of things. I don't like people reposting my art anywhere without credit, surely that can be said for everyone.
Randomly in May Alex reposted my art, no credit, mention of who made it, or where it came from. I should mention Alex had been following me well before this post, so he knew who I was. Rightfully I responded with a request to take it down as I didn't appreciate this.
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Upon making this request he made a small complaint about it, which was unneeded. While he did "delete" the post, it still technically there, just edited. Therefore never officially removed like I had asked.
He also uploaded two other drawings I did, but he did not remove those ones.
Not too long ago on a post I made showcasing my Chris model, as it had been a while since I posted it, and I wanted to let people see it.
Alex later said some... questionable things about it. And it really made me uncomfortable to say the least.
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For context in my AU, my Chris is 29. This has been stated before a few times.
I want to get to the biggest thing here however, as this is what drove me to make this post. The consistent weird and hateful DM's he has sent me.
I have told Alex to leave me alone on several different occasions and he has refused to do so. Again I know I should've blocked but as I said, just wanted to wait in case. Truth is I don't like blocking people, never have, I feel weird doing it. But anyways Alex made a poll a week ago if I recall correctly of whether or not he should keep or delete his account. The poll won on keep. No sooner did this happen, Alex was in my DM's bothering me about it after I again told him to leave me alone.
The DM's are as followed with context and info:
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He responded with something along the lines of "Then my account would become lost media!" to which I only responded "No one really cares."
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Next post is where Alex starts to mock me for being slow with my replies. I don't quite understand what speed he expects me to write my replies at, I guess 5 seconds?
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So as you have noticed Alex is now making fun of my autism, and it's going to continue in this unfortunately. Bringing up a disability in an argument should not happen. However at some point Alex accused me of creating alts to vote against his poll, I have none.
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I'm not sure why me specifically... and I hate how me being "slow" keeps getting brought up. Also racism is somehow brought into this as well.
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He spammed me with the same image repeatedly, and it continued for a while. Passing that, he wanted me to run the same poll he did on if I should keep or delete my account. I obviously declined.
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He then blocked me after this.
Alex in the past DM'd me, when he made those remarks about my Chris model. I wasn't happy then and I'm still not about it.
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I'm still puzzled as to why he calls being blocked as banned. Besides that this comes to the end of the DM ark. Alex has done other things, such as suggest people to draw strange stuff, edited other peoples work, steal other peoples work, and tried to stir up drama at one point.
In conclusion,
Alex is immature. And should not be here, especially this fandom. But in general he should not be online, it is clear he has unlimited access to whatever he wants.
I am sorry to my friends and others who have had to deal with him. That is all I have to say.
Any questions or whatnot is fine. Reblogs are appreciated in order to spread the word.
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toaarcan · 3 months
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I need the anti-voting crowd to understand that not voting isn't going to cause the Democrats to take a long, hard, look in the mirror and suddenly decide that they need to swing left to appeal to more leftists.
When these centre-left parties lose, they get more centrist. They try to broaden their appeal and make themselves as appealing to as many people as possible.
The example I'll point to is my local centre-left party, Labour, who are currently poised on the brink of one of the largest victories they've ever had. By the time you read this, it may have already happened, election day is today.
Labour have been drifting rightwards on several fronts for a while now. One of the biggest examples of this was the 1997 elections. After repeatedly failing to defeat Margaret Thatcher and then subsequently losing once to John Major, Tony Blair became the new leader of the party, and reinvented it as New Labour, adopting a much more neoliberal economic approach and promptly got a historic victory.
Now there are a lot of reasons why Blair won as hard as he did, and I don't have time to break them all down, but at the end of the day, their adoption of neoliberal economic policies worked out enormously for them. Not only did Blair romp to victory, he maintained most of his popularity afterwards, reigning for an entire decade before finally stepping down in 2007.
Labour is also a handy demonstrator of why they don't lean leftwards after a defeat, because they actually did try that and it failed spectacularly.
After Ed "Wrong Milliband, wrong Ed" Milliband's dismal performance in the 2015 election, Labour actually decided to try and lean leftwards again, and selected Jeremy Corbyn as their leader.
Unfortunately, Corbyn was useless. Many a Brit will accuse him of not even actually wanting to be Prime Minister, instead just wanting to sit opposite an actual PM and oppose them. They're probably right.
The 2017 snap election, called by Theresa May, should've been an open goal. May was embattled largely by her own party, many of whom were strongly opposed to her attempt at a moderate Brexit deal. She was an unelected PM, chosen by internal party mechanisms after David "Bae of Pigs" Cameron fucked off post-Brexit disaster. The massive, and ever-growing pro-EU voting block were entirely unrepresented. The Liberal Democrats, normally a bit of a thorn in Labour's side in terms of hoovering up more left-wing votes, were still trying to recover from the massive hit in popularity they took after the disasterous Tory-Lib Dem coalition. Blood in the water for any left-wing party worth its salt.
Yeah so Corbyn fucked it up and lost. While May only ended up weakening her position, losing 13 seats and dropping below a majority, the Tories still got their largest vote share since the 80s and held onto power for grim death.
Corbyn stuck around, still didn't get any better, and promptly lost the 2019 election in a landslide. To this guy.
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People didn't vote for Corbyn. In the media, he was pilloried as a communist and an antisemite (and he did such a terrible job of fighting that second one that to this day I still have no idea whether it was true or just a smear campaign), and his determination to take the high road only made him look weak and avoidant to the public. His policies got little attention and his campaigning was likely deliberately weak, shooting for the role of opposition rather than government.
It also didn't help that the people for whom Labour wasn't Left Wing Enough still didn't turn out. They still voted Green or didn't vote at all.
To the party itself, though, the message was clear. They'd gone leftward, and it had backfired spectacularly.
Corbyn promptly fucked off at long last and was replaced by Starmer, who is, as expected, another milquetoast neoliberal in most regards. And now, with the polls open for the 2024 election, and Starmer projected to win by such a massive margin that the term "Supermajority" has been thrown around like it's an inevitability, Labour has been engaging in what's been called a "purge" of its leftmost members, with most of Corbyn's base, including Corbyn himself, being barred from running as Labour candidates and instead having to run as independents.
Now, that might horrify you as a leftist, but to them, it's a course-correction. Corbyn and co. represent an era of failure for the party, where a leftward lean cost them two elections.
To swing back around to American politics, if the Democrats lose because of voter apathy, they aren't going to take it as a sign that they need to appeal to the left. They're going to take it as a sign that their appeal wasn't broad enough and they need more outreach to right-wingers.
They already lost in part due to voter apathy in 2016, they didn't move left to compensate. They found the Most Neoliberal Average Establishment Guy they could, rallied behind him, and it partially paid off for them. They at least won.
You want a more leftist Democrat party? Not voting isn't going to get you that. In fact, it will most likely have the exact opposite effect.
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haleswallows · 4 months
Text
Let's go, let's go, let's goooo! I had so much writing this one about Tim summoning Fright Knight. I hope you all enjoy it too.
Teaser:
Jason ugly-laughs. “Phantom is a gremlin. I watched him eat a pickle, banana and peanut butter sandwich. On wonder bread. I can't respect him.”
“Ghosts eat?” Dick mutters, barely noticeable as Phantom swipes repeatedly at Jason. The air around Fright Knight is exasperated and tired. So a regular thing with these two, Tim decides.
Phantom drapes himself over Jason's shoulders, floating and looking like an oversized cat.
“Can I tell the story? I want to tell the story, you snooze, you lose. Hi, Ghost King. I kept an eye on Jason during his sabbatical from having a heart rate. Lost track of him after the reality in this dimension shifted two inches to the left. Then a very angry Fright Knight brought him to the Keep, I can't disclose the next part because of doctor-patient confidentiality, Jason can share that if he likes. Once he was proper angry and not Pit Mad anymore, I yote him back.”
Tim has a headache. Damian doesn't look much better.
“He leaves out the part that every time he gets bored, he makes a portal and haunts my fridge,” Jason adds in a sour voice, expression matching. 
“All the food in the Keep reanimates and tries to unionize. Plus, you're the best cook I know.” The Ghost King wiggles. “Wait! Can I meet B? Pretty sure I met him for point-three seconds when he was stuck in a colonial timeline. No, can I meet Alfred?”
“Sure,” Tim says right when Jason shouts “fuck no!”
His brother opens his mouth, but Tim smoothly cuts Jason off. “They're going to have to help us home anyways. Our tech is all ghost-fried because Fright Knight went nuclear option. Damian and Dick can't grapnel.”
“I definitely can –.”
“Your shoulder is dislocated again. Pretty sure you can't.”
“Richard!” Damian wakes up a bit more, barking in concern.
“Anyways,” Tim soldiers on. “My nose is broken. Damian definitely needs looked at and possibly IV fluids. And Alfred is going to make angry eye-brows at Dick until he wears a sling. So, I vote Fright Knight calls for Nightmare and we head for the Cave.”
“A very astute solution,” Fright Knight intones when Jason shouts “fuck no!”
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intergalactic-garbage · 2 months
Text
true facts about little alex horne
he can fit a penny in the gap between his teeth
has exactly 30% fewer bones than the average person
comes into work with his sandwiches cut into fingers, because he believes they "taste better"
tina turner once described him as "simply the best", and in a separate conversation, "a complete arsehole"
goes around the supermarket following people he thinks look cool, and when they pay and throw away the receipt, picks it up, and buys what they bought
nibbles and scurries his way through life like a long human rat
has his mantra going in his head at all times, and it's "absoluta pulsis voluptatem" (absolute driving pleasure)
when naked, looks like a weird, ill monkey
has crumbs in his beard dating back to the 90's
when it comes to childcare, he doesn't think his wife rachel "pulls her weight"
he doesn't really like women, because he thinks they've gotten a bit "too chopsy of late"
walks like a weird victorian clockwork toy soldier
is the answer to the question "what happens if you throw chunks of pork at a revolving carwash brush?"
his new years' resolution was "bringing back the patriarchy"
his first french kiss was with his second cousin jacob, now a legal underwriter on the isle of man
he doesn't think the NHS is very good, and according to him, some nurses are "lazy"
cries every time he watches free willy, and frees his willy every time he cries
has a separate bank account that his wife doesn't know about
as a child was so irritating, that his mother paid for "a barrage of medical tests"
he's scared of three things: slugs, small spaces, and women being allowed to vote
was once chased and bitten by a peacock in a day he refers to as "the day [he] lost [his] children's respect"
thinks all primary school teachers are the scum of the earth
thinks the refuge team that collects his bins every week are "stupid" and "don't deserve to be paid"
thinks climate change is a hoax propagated by "liberal pussies who don't know how to party"
sometimes deliberately revs his engine in traffic, because it makes him feel "like [he's] in charge of all women"
"[doesn't] know much about politics, but [he thinks] poor people should stop moaning and pull their flipin' fingers out"
is the answer to the question "what does a corpse look like when a corpse continues to grow hair post-mortem?"
his father has only ever given him one christmas gift, a beautifully wrapped piece of welsh slate, that had one solitary word engraved upon it. that word? toad.
until the age of 14 thought his penis was an eleventh finger, with the specific purpose of putting stamps onto letters
when he was young, used to practice kissing on his grandfather's pet carp "mr. suckles"
his slogan is "friendless oddball"
if it was up to him, scotland would be physically sawn off from the UK, and floated into the north sea. horne stated that "we'll soon find out how much they want independence when all they've got to eat is shortbread"
when his wife shouts at him, he whispers "get lost" under his breath
his children call him "little alex horne"
once got dragged 11 miles through the open country side by holding on to what he believed to be a horse's "fifth leg"
makes up tasks in his jacuzzi, and knows he's got a "good one", because "[his] bald ferret breaks the surface for air"
if he sees the pilot of any plane he boards is a woman, he immediately leaves
once hospitalized himself by doing high kicks to toxic by britney spears
🎶 he says he's over six foot but he's five foot four 🎶 little alex horne! 🎶
without hair would be as physically featureless as one sausage
ran away with a circus, but was sent back home, because he was annoying everyone and upset the animals
at some point nearly every day, he cries
once did a poo in a paddling pool
pretty woman is his favourite film
collects teapots that look like cottages
has no respect for the military, and if any soldier came up to him in public, "[he] could easily have them coz they're all stupid"
his head is shaped like the rubber of a pencil, and his body is shaped like a pencil
statistics are his foreplay and spreadsheets his post-coital cigarette
his wife keeps a pocketful of treats for when he remembers to "do toilet outside"
is single-handedly keeping the plastic shoe industry alive
once wet himself on a train when he was 30
hasn't bought car tax or insurance since the 90's, because he thinks it's an example of "big government"
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in1-nutshell · 18 days
Note
I have a really dumb idea for Fearless.  Getaway happens, again.  The crew is trapped on the necroplanet with six hours before the djd comes knocking down the door.  When Megatron goes off to talk to Tarn, Fearless follows because why the fuck not.  Maybe they make their presence known the moment that Megatron offers to exchange himself for everyone elses safety with a loud objection.  Maybe they wait until a fight starts and Megatron gets the shit beat outta him to try and (fail) stop Tarn.  Either way I want the angst to the max.  Tarn taunting Megs for his hypocrisy, from wiping out organic planets by the dozen to practically begging for Tarn not to hurt Fearless.
Side note, not sure how this would fit into the angst but I'm laughing at the idea of Tarn having an almost a one-sided rivalry with Fearless because he went from being Megatron’s favorite student to second to a tiny fleshling.
Instant Angst coming right up!
Hope you enjoy!
Fearless VS Tarn
SFW, Platonic, ANGST, Familial, mention of wounds and some injuries, nothing too graphic, Human reader
MTMTE
Fearless wanted to go on the planetary mission with the Rod Squad.
But Megatron simple said no.
So, they tried asking Magnus, with a report too!
Still no.
They even went to Rodimus to ask to go.
Even he said no!
Fearless already was processing a sick note for the Co-captain when they saw the squad leaving.
They quickly got into their battle suit (similar to Verity’s in Last Stand of the Wrecker’s) and hopped into one of the larger med kits.
Getaway transmission inside the Necrobot’s dome. Getaway: “And now Rodimus what are you going to do? The entire crew on this ship voted mutiny. All you bots will die like pathetic fools along side Megatron. I’ll make sure to say something to Fearless for you.” Rodimus: “I swear if you lay a digit on them—” CLICK! The call had declined. Rodimus looked stressed while Megatron looked like he was going to have a stroke. Everyone who heard suddenly got worried about their little human on the ship. It wasn’t any news about Getaway behaving certain ways around organics, especially after the incident. Megatron clenching his servos. TAP! TAP! One of the larger med kits Swerve had brought in suddenly moved. Swerve: “Oh great! The med kits are possessed now!” The tap opens and Fearless pops their head out. Fearless: “Who was carrying the medkits!? I swear I nearly lost my lunch—what’s everyone looking at? Did someone die?” Megatron looks like he is about to faint. Magnus sure did. Megatron: “WHY ARE YOU HERE!?” Fearless puts their hands up in surrender. Whirl: “Megs I think you need to get your priorities checked. This is great!” Megatron: “And pray tell why having one of the most vulnerable crew members on the ship, well what’s left of the original crew, here in the same place we are going to get slaughtered by the DJD is great!?” Fearless: “…what in the world did I miss…”
Fearless wordlessly as Megatron explained their situation.
By the end of it they swore they were going to kick Getaway’s tin can so far, he would be forever drifting in space.
The small human had never met the DJD in their life.
They heard stories about the group from other bots around the ship, but it was almost like they were too scared to even speak their names.
They tried one time talking to Megatron about them, it earned them a weeklong silent treatment.
To Fearless, they were more bad guys that had made their family miserable and deathly afraid of.
They didn’t truly know what DJD did.
Fearless decided to make themselves a bit useful and tried to help more panicy bots calm down.
Apparently, it helped the bots calm down when they held/petted/cuddled them close, and they were going to bare it for their sakes.
They noticed that some bots were going to need more durable things to hold and fidget with.
Thankfully they spotted a couple of loose bolts inside a bright pink scooter.
Too bad that the scooter started up knocking them out for a bit.
When Fearless eventually comes out of their ‘nap’ they immediately open up the compartment and sees a bunch of blue flowers.
They hop off and see Megatron standing in front of a statue… of himself?
Suddenly a new bot came out of nowhere and transformed in front of Megatron.
They glared at the mysterious mech.
Something was wrong.
Something was definitely wrong…
The human’s eyes nearly popped out of their skull when they heard Megatron address Tarn about surrendering to keep the crew safe.
What was this!?!?
They were still processing what Megatron had said when Tarn started beating him up.
Fearless was ready to see Megatron completely annihilate his metal behind.
They just stared in horror seeing their father figure not even attempting to defend himself.
The tiny human was FURIOUS!
Fearless runs, jumps on Megatron’s chassis, raises their blasters up at the purple Con with fire in their eyes. Fearless: “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Megatron feels his spark stop seeing Fearless on his chassis YELLING at TARN! Tarn was surprised to see a human DEFENDING Megatron. Tarn: “What is this? Oh, I see. You truly have changed Megatron. From making every organic life form quake in your presence, to having to rely on them to fight your battles?” Tarn laughs as he takes a step forward. Fearless readies their blasters. Fearless: “I’m warning you! Stay away from us!” Tarn: “Ha! What is the little organic going to do? I am Tarn! Leader of the Decepticon Justice Division! Megatron’s chosen one!” Fearless: “You sure about that? Cause last time I checked my names on the adoption papers and not yours.” Tarn is in a slight stuttering mess, not expecting to hear that comment. Megatron tries to move his servo but can’t: “Fearless don’t provoke him!” Tarn: “You are a peculiar organic, aren’t you? Sadly, you won’t be remembered.” Fearless glares at Tarn. Fearless: “I’m not going to repeat myself Tarn, but I’ll do it for you so your tiny processor can comprehend. Stay away from us or I WILL—” Tarn: “What are you going to do? Blast me in the face?” Fearless with a determined smile: “Yes.” BLAST! Fearless had indeed blasted Tarn in the face, then proceeded to JUMP on his chassis and started punching and shooting. Tarn was too startled to properly think what was going on as the human started climbing and tearing parts of his armor. Fearless looks behind them and straight at Megatron. They had a desperate look on their face. Fearless: “GO!”
Megatron laid down on the floor for a couple of seconds stunned at what his organic child had just done.
He scrambled up and attempted to get Fearless.
Sadly, Tarn had gotten to his senses and grabbed Fearless harshly.
The leader of the DJD’s armor was dented and some holes sprinkled around.
Fearless had a scowl on their face and thrashed around in his clenched servo.
Tarn just flexed his digits and made Fearless stop and gasped hearing something snap.
That’s not good…
Megatron yelled at him to spar Fearless.
Tarn felt disgusted… and a bit jealous.
How come Megatron cared so much about his puny organic when he had him!?
Tarn sadistically laughed and threw Fearless into his subspace.
Megatron was about to demand Fearless back again when Overlord suddenly descended from the sky and demanded Tarn to hand Megatron over so he could terminate him.
Megatron slipped away with a heavy spark to the dome.
When he returned to the crew, Megatron told them what happened and who had taken Fearless.
Whirl was about to exit the dome at that same second if Cyclonus and Magnus hadn’t tackled him down.
Rodimus did his best to calm the crew, despite the sinking pit in his tank.
Everyone knew the chances Fearless had alone with Tarn.
They were slim to nonexistent.
Meanwhile, Tarn had just arrived with the rest of his group.
He opened his subspace and carelessly tossed the human aside.
Fearless yelped when they landed on one of their legs.
Another snap.
Oh, if Ratchet ever found out about this…
Well good news was that he wasn’t even here… yeah… good news…
Tarn just gave them a simple order to stay put.
He wanted to destroy them in front of Megatron.
No one else was to touch them under his orders.
A silver lining, now all they needed to do was figure out a way to get back to the crew and not die in the process.
Just two things.
While Fearless was starting to worry about the shortness of breath and hot/cold flashes they were feeling, they barely noticed much of the battle happening around them.
It wasn’t until Tarn and most of his group had gone to personally fight that Fearless realize that they had been left in the ‘care’ of the light blue minibot that had been giving them the stink eye since they snapped their leg.
Suddenly the minibot told them that she didn’t see them escape before head to Deathsaurus.
Fealess suddenly realized they had no one guarding them.
They yelped and grunted as they tried getting up.
Thankfully they didn’t need to stand up for too long thanks to a familiar looking felicon racing to them.
Ravage: “Fearless!” Ravage skid to a stop in front of the barely standing human. Fearless managed to give him a tight smile before leaning on him. He smelled them a bit. Ravage: “You’re bleeding.” Fearless: “That’s probably from the broken bone.” Ravage: “What is broken?!” Fearless: “Yeah and I think something in my chest snapped too…” Ravage kneels letting Fearless struggle to get on. He flinches hearing their labored breathing and yelps. Ravage: “This isn’t going to be a smooth ride Fearless. Hold on tight and don’t let go.” Fearless gripping part of his armor: “Wasn’t planning on it.”
Fearless didn’t know what was worse.
Focusing on the pain in their chest and leg or focusing on the battle around them.
They definitely needed to apologize to Ravage for how hard they were clenching his armor.
Most didn’t even take notice of the felicon being used to move the injured human.
Sadly, there was one mech on the battlefield that had taken notice.
Fearless sees the giant shadow dwarfing them and Ravage. All they see is Tarn’s large servo reach for them. Fearless raises one of their arms and starts blasting. Fearless: “GO BACK TO THE PITS WHERE YOU BELONG!” It only slows down Tarn a bit. It wasn’t enough. Tarn slaps hard at Fearless’s smaller body. To Ravage’s horror he sees the smaller body get plunged into the fray, swallowed by the fire and smoke of the battlefield. Ravage: “FEARLESS!” A pair of mechs had just seen the act from the screen. One of them immediately ran out.
Time skip after the battle…
The bots who were well enough to walk started rounded up around Terminus and Megatron.
Megatron was trying to recruit a search party for Fearless.
When Megatron had gone out, it was impossible to find their tiny body amongst the chaos around.
Even right after dealing with the DJD and Rodimus pulling him out of the place, there was still no sign of Fearless.
Hope was dwindling fast.
Megatron: “All right, in 5 minutes we depart.” Skids (yes, he lives): “Count me in.” Rung holds Skids back: “With the low energy you have, I don’t think that’s wise Skids.” Skids: “Fearless is out there, we need every bot on deck.” Whirl hobbling over: “He’s right Eyebrows. My Amica is out there and needs us.” Terminus looking at one of the monitors. Terminus: “Your human is small, correct?” Megatron not looking: “Yes.” Terminus: “And in some form of armor?” Megatron still not looking: “Yes.” Terminus: “They leak a lot of red fluids?” Megatron pauses before looking at the screen. Fearless was INSIDE the dome and staggering to the door. Megatron: “Sweet Solus Prime!” Megatron sprints to the door faster than he ever had in his life.
No one knows how Fearless got this far.
Ratchet tells them that it shouldn’t even be possible for them to move with the amount of blood loss and broken bones.
But he wasn’t complaining.
No one is.
Ratchet doesn’t leave Fearless’s side for a couple of hours.
Ratchet stands up with Fearless, bandaged up and limp. Ratchet: “I need someone to hold Fearless, very still, for a while.” Megatron: “I’ll do it.” Ratchet: “No offense Megatron, but you’re shaking like a new recruit. Any harsh movement is not what they need right now.” Whirl hobbles over and opens his cockpit. Carefully he reclines the seat and pulls out one of Fearless’s blankets from his subspace. Whirl: “I’ll take them Doc. I’ll even sit down in the corner.” Ratchet hesitates, but the determined look in Whirl’s optic finally made him gently lay Fearless inside. As soon as Ratchet finished putting Fearless down, Megatron came up and carefully tucked them in. Fearless slightly snuggles closer to the blanket. Terminus peaks over Megatron’s shoulder. Terminus: “They mean that much to you?” Megatron watches Whirl carefully hobble to a corner and sat down. He didn’t miss the Ex-Wrecker carefully adjust their blanket. Megatron: “Yes, yes they do.”
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