#and i’m afraid if i don’t get these out of my system and post em i’ll forget

[tauforged]

what if they got less doll-like and more human over time, like with the more spirals you completed and the more times you slayed them in wyrm form…… 🤔🧐

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. x

This is my second time trying to post this, and I think- I think this may the point where I draw the line with the weird fucked formatting Travelers. Hellsite does not like it when I reach the character limit (and I'm tired of fighting it, curses...) CW for: mentioned animal abuse, mentioned assault towards a disabled character, genocide, homelessness. if there is something else you would like warned for, please reach out to me.

@ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @demonic-panini @the-private-eye @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

I apologized to Iris for my outburst a few days ago. They accepted it without any questions. I still feel guilty, but they aren't willing to drag this out any longer. 

The twins are off probation but they still need supervision. Talia goes out with them most days as part of her physical therapy. It's good for her. But she always comes back so tired and wiped out from just walking that she takes days to recover. We don't get days though. We don't know when New Kinshasa is going to change its mind on us again. Today they can give us an early curfew, and the next they can turn the Guardian Angel System on to target everyone old enough to remember the Angel. We don't have a damn clue what they're planning or going to do next...

Uh- this week on Brahma: the Rats gang in the north and the Rats gang in the south are at odds with each other. If the situation escalates any further there's going to a be a damn turf war. Ten years of relative peace and now they're at a tipping point? 

(BAIRD SIGHS)

I remember when a mischief of Rats scurried on to our block a few years ago. Charlie, Talia, and I had run a couple of them off years and years prior. And most knew better than to come looking for trouble down our block. Most everyone that was taken care of by Mrs. Darius or taught under Mr. Eber at some point or another knew not to come poking their nose around looking for trouble. But this mischief was new. They didn't know who's grounds they were stepping on or what apartments they were looking to squat in. 

When those new kids started making a mess of the streets and tried running circles around the market, I went and took care of them myself. Josie and Hank were so worried for me, but when I got back I just told them that it was no big deal. Just a bunch of homeless kids that needed a place to stay. I wrangled them into place and got them all sorted and now they’re running chores for old-timers like Hank and slipping messages to the other Revolutionaries across Brahma. 

Yesterday’s Rats weren’t those same kids though. The twins complained about a group of teenagers mucking around the old daycare. Josie and Iris couldn’t parse much of what they said so they’ve asked me to try talking to them and Talia one on one. And from what I understand, the girls were upset because the Rats kept calling them “Goodies”, and Talia was mostly ignoring them pretty well until one of them chucked a rock at her and Mischa. So now I gotta get involved in another rat problem and either rough ‘em up and shoo ‘em out, or knock enough sense into them they start behaving better. 

(BAIRD GROANS)

And honestly, I wanna do neither. I told Hank and Josie back then that I wasn’t scared but really. I was scared shitless. Those kids were easy to talk to though once they realized I’m like them. I’m not a fighter. I don’t go in fists-a-swinging right off the bat. That was always more Talia and Charlie then me… but, Talia can hardly walk most days, and Charlie’s gone. Josie is too busy distributing aid at the rec center, Hank is retired, the twins are afraid of them, and Iris is coordinating with the Old-Timers. Everyone’s either too old, too busy, or too young to deal with problems like these. 

(BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND LETS IT OUT SLOWLY. HE STRUGGLES TO CLEAR THEIR THROAT)

In other news on Brahma: Ester is now taller than I was at ten. Meaning that I really was just short for being a ten-year-old. Hallie is as tall are Charlie was, but they’ll both probably need another year before they’re as tall as Talia was at their age. I don’t know much about Hank and his life before the Galatic Civil War, but I’m almost certain he came from one of the Solar Planets. Why in any Goddess good name he chose to stay in the Outer Rim and chose to stay on Brahma of all places, I don’t think I’ll ever understand. 

(BAIRD COUGHS, BEATS THEIR CHEST, AND COUGHS SOME MORE)

Good grief… I need to ask Iris about something to soothe my throat. Debris keeps falling from New Kinshasa. It burns up before it hits the Dome and can do any real damage, but when I was last in the market, I was talking with one of the vendors and she said her neighborhood was afraid of another Cleansing. The last one was… six years ago? That sounds about right. And the one before that was when New Kinshasa leveled a quarter of Brahma in one day. It still gives me chills just thinking about it. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Well, that went better than expected. 

I paid a visit to the squatters at the old daycare. The youngest looked to be about nine, the oldest gave me a black eye–

IRIS:

They did a lot more than that, now hold still while I stitch your face back together.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh c’mon Iris– can’t a guy catch a break? Do you think it’s gonna scar at least?

IRIS:

If it does, no one will notice unless they look for it. 

(IRIS GETS LOUDER, AS IF THEY PULLED THE COMMS CLOSER)

For the record: Baird’s brow split open because the Brat was wearing a ring. Baird does have a black eye, but that’s nothing a bit of pain meds can’t help him cope with. 

(BAIRD GAGS)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

No thanks, I’ll pass. I can cope with the pain. 

(IRIS SNORTS)

IRIS: 

And… There. All done.

(MOMENTS PAUSE)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

You can let go of my face now. 

IRIS:

Right, sorry. You look so much like your parents and I just– I miss them. 

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Well it would kind of be a weird if I didn’t look a little bit like them…

IRIS:

Har-har– think you’re so fucking clever… you were saying though? About how it went better than you expected?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh yeah. It did. I got punched in the face and the others got freaked out when I fell backwards because they didn’t know how to get rid of a dead body. One of them came over to check on me and I was mostly fine after they helped me sit up. 

The one who punched me didn’t apologize and I don’t need ‘em to. I asked them why they were squatting in the daycare and they said that they didn’t feel safe anymore at their old spot. Apparently the Rats North and South from here drove them out and they each found one another looking for some place to go. I talked to them and they agreed to pack their shit up and get out of the daycare, but they want my help finding someplace they can stay. 

(IRIS HUMS)

IRIS:

It sounds like to me, that we’re past a plausible turf war, and are stuck smack dab in the middle of it. I’ll have to bring this up at the next Meeting you know… How do you feel about going to your first Meeting with the others?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Really! You mean that?

IRIS:

Yes. You’re an adult, I trust your decisions, and you have some experience from back when you helped run Talia’s little book club. Plus those meetings are so boring without someone there to keep you company. It’d be nice to have you around to take notes while I nap.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

You’re such an ass, you know that?

(IRIS LAUGHS)

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

What the fuck!

(IRIS LAUGHS)

No I’m serious! What the fuck was that for the last hour and a half! What the fuck!

IRIS:

Welcome to my world, Baird. I’ve been fighting those ding-bats for the last decade all on my own. They refuse to give me supplies to restock the only functioning Hanataba Clinic left because you live across town now, how are you supposed to take care everyone when you're all the way over in the Est Quarter? I would move back someplace closer if only you would fucking give me what I need! But no! Instead we run circles around and around, have the same passing contests between North and South, East and West, downtown and uptown, and no body fucking wins! 

(IRIS PANTS)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh. I… had no idea. Really? It's been like this this whole time?

IRIS:

Yes! Baird what’s wrong? 

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Nothing it’s just… you would move back if they put effort into stocking the Hanataba clinic? You really would?

(A LASPE OF SILENCE. IRIS GASPS)

IRIS:

Oh no no no– no. Baird. Look at me. I would not leave you just like that. You’re my family. I gave up my dream to keep the clinic stocked because I wanted to be there for you and Cyrus. When Hanataba built the clinics, they left each one with a massive handbook covering all sorts of procedures. If the clinic was ever back to half functioning, I’d go back only to show someone else how to keep the lights on. 

(IRIS SIGHS)

But there isn’t anyone else, there aren’t more supplies, and the clinic’s generator was probably been siphoned for fuel years ago. 

(BAIRD MUMBLES SOMETHING INAUDIBLE)

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

What if… you weren’t the only Hanataba Clinician the Revolution had to rely on though? What if there was at least one other one? 

IRIS:

Come again? 

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Quid pro quo. You help me get the Rats off the street, out of the daycare, and I help you find someone else to train to run the clinic and justify getting it operating again. 

IRIS:

You want to use the Brats?

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Just the mischief that got ran off by the bigger gangs. I bet I could even talk them into running messages across the planet. Helping us organize a bit better. Make getting the word out easier… what’s wrong?

IRIS:

Nothing, it’s a great idea Baird…

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

But?

IRIS:

…but I think the Old-Timers won’t like it. They don’t like the Pests to begin with. 

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

Oh yeah no, they’ll hate this idea. But… I have to try. Right?

(FOOTSTEPS THROUGH AN EMPTY STREET. A FULL MINUTE PASSES)

IRIS:

Yeah. You have to try. I trust your decisions, and I trust you. 

BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY):

So, lets try together. 

IRIS:

Yeah… we’ll try together. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

- This recording takes place a few days after “Decade”. - Baird has mentioned Talia a lot and based off their descriptions it’s likely the neglect and abuse she took from the Constables 10 years prior left her disabled. If not that, in lasting chronic pain. - Baird’s cough does sound very concerning. They sounded awful in the first one (“Belief”). Dust that settles in the lungs can cause scarring. It must have progressively worsened over the years. If they’re alive today I would be shocked. - “Talia’s Book Club” whatever happened to it after Charlie was executed? - Baird’s reaction after attending his first Meeting with other Revolutionary organizers is so much like Eevees’. - Est Quarter: the East Quarter of Brahma. - Baird and Iris’ relationship has changed and improved so much since they were a kid. They’ve clearly grown a lot closer and have a lot of a love for one another. Did Baird’s plan ever get off the ground? Was there another Cleansing? -Frannie’s friend (Ms. Rita) messaged me back with an update on her search for Eevee Bell and Baird Bell. She recommended that I look back through her list for Baird since she said it would take her a week at most to gather everything she could on Eevee Bell. Doing a preliminary search on my own turns up nothing. I don’t know how or where Ms. Rita is getting her information from, and I don’t think I want to know either. The less I know the better (I think). - Though now that I’ve had time to think about it, I could ask her to look into the name Peter Nureyev. I’ve tried searching myself and I haven’t really found anything. Even with the information I’ve gleamed from Camilla and Eevee’s recordings, I haven’t found dick anything. Whoever he is (was?), he very effectively disappeared.

[notaninterest]

Carnal *1* (A Hisoka x Reader)

[A/N]: Hello! My username says notaninterest, but feel free to call me Cece.

I'm going to be making this into a story! So I do hope you stick around for the other parts to come. This is also posted on my Wattpad if you're interested. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it shouldn't be too long. We'll see :)

I update weekly to biweekly depending on how my life pans out. I will let you know when you should expect the next chapter.

I think I made some mistakes with my writing about Nen so I hope that's okay. I'm not going to be completely accurate in my writing. I hope you understand.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

warnings: heavy sexual themes, smut, Hisoka being fucking hawt

The smell is the same as any other strip club. These grimy places usually never interested him, but tonight is different. It is not the same as the others. He urges for something, something not related to his bloodlust. Yes...He requires a woman. And places like these were full of them. He smiles to himself whilst taking a sip of his alcohol. Nevermind the crowd of inebriated men and some women. His yellow eyes are trained on the dancers, three different ones each accompanying their own respective poles. One of them is a brunette with an aline bob, her hands above her head wrapped around the pole and her legs crossed over the pole with her back facing towards it. She held a look of lust while she arched her back, exposing her full bare breasts further to the crowd as she spun down the pole slowly. While she played the part, her aura certainly didn't feel the part. Hisoka could sense the underlying hatred and disgust this girl has for her job and while she is good at it, she clearly doesn't enjoy it. 'Too boring. Easily manipulated. Not enough fun.' He decides, switching his gaze over to the second girl. This one has long, blue hair reaching to her waist. She confidently swirls upside on the pole, grinding against it upside down. As she reaches down lower, she does the splits midair, manipulating her lower body to face the crowd of horny alcoholics, giving them a peek as to what's beneath the lingerie. A man in the mass of bodies spits out his beer in surprise, quickly throwing money at the dancer. Hisoka rolls his eyes. It's clear as day that she's just a run of the mill slut, perfect for this specific area of expertise. She's clearly in it for it all. Sex, money, and exhibitionism. She doesn't care who watches her or who touches her. She enjoys it all the same. While sensitivity to touch was always a plus, he prefers at least some resistance to his advances. He likes 'em feisty.

The third dancer however...bingo. Her [h/c] hair is what first draws him to her significantly more than the others. The second? Well, he can't sense her aura. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he can't feel it at all. She must be using Zetsu to conceal herself from any Nen users. Little does she know that any other other highly experienced Nen users like himself can easily spot through her deception from just looking at her. Another smile upturns his lips. She will certainly entertain him for the night. He continues to watch her, noting the way her [e/c] eyes sparkle with excitement, nervousness, and some other emotions he can't place. This placates his curiosity more. "Oi, bartender." He calls one of the employees, who walks over while cleaning a glass. "What's the name of that third dancer, the one right over there?" Hisoka asks, pointing over to the mysterious woman. "Well that'd be [Y/N], the most graceful of them all." The bartender gushes, clearly having it out for the lady. "Hmm...'most graceful' you say..." He'd be the test of that one. He continues to stalk you out from the bar, sipping on his alcohol slowly. He needn't be drunk for this experience. No...He's going to enjoy this one to satisfy his more carnal cravings for a longer time. He watches you closely. You were wearing very little, definitely giving the appearance of confidence in your body. That scores high in the point system in Hisoka's head. You were currently positioned so the front of your body faced the pole, your backside facing the crowd. You bent over at the waist, grabbing the pole in front of you and bending to a 90-degree angle. Your toned ass is on clear view to the people in front of you and you slowly rotate your hips, imitating a sexual act in midair. Or, at least trying to. ‘Mmm...she's perfect.’ Hisoka dreams of the acts he'll perform on you, becoming more excited by the second. He continues to watch you, head in his left hand, his drink in the other. As soon as you finish undulating your hips, you slide up against the pole, grinding your pussy against the cold metal. A gasp leaves your lips, one that should be inaudible considering the noise and the atmosphere, but it's a noise Hisoka can hear as clear as day. It's clear that from the pitch in this noise and the way you move your body that you're not experienced in this area, which leaves him to wonder why you chose it. Maybe for the money? No...he doubted that. You didn't lurch your body around the pole as deliberately as the first dancer. There was a secret to your work that he doesn't know of. It becomes painfully more clear that you aren't experienced in any pole work at all, judging by how clumsily you slither up the pole. Your eyes struggle to convey the desire to practically fuck the pole and instead are glazed over in what seems to be a sort of nervousness. To any other everyday individual, you'd look like a professional, maybe graceful as others say. Yet, to Hisoka, he can see right through your dancing façade. Why are you doing this...he must sate his ever-growing curiosity.

As the number finishes and the dancers walk offstage, Hisoka approaches the man responsible for handing out lap dances and the like, going to put his request in nice and early. "Eh?! You request a room for the rest of the night?! S-Sir I'm afraid-" Hisoka holds up a heavy, full bag. "This here is enough jenny to last you a lifetime and even your grandkids if you spend it wisely." He smiles as he hands the packed bag over, watching as the man's eyes light up in greed. He needs this money. And Hisoka can tell. "I'm sure we can make something work. This man here will guide you to your room." The greedy man shoos over a hefty bulk of a guy, who promptly tells Hisoka to follow him. Hisoka smirks, dropping the bag of money on the slimy man's desk. "Very well. Thank you." He thanks, following the brawny dude to his assigned room.

The large man guides the magician to the room furthest down the long hallway. As Hisoka opens it, he notices it to be some sort of suite. He chuckles to himself. The other rooms were smaller. Money sure did get you good things. The strong guard before him tells him that the dancer he requested will be with him shortly before leaving, giving Hisoka some time to himself before you arrived. He investigates the big room for the time being, meticulously looking over things. There was the obvious king-sized bed, massive enough for two bodies. There's a nightstand full of condoms and lube. It has a lamp with a red shade on top of it, which Hisoka turns on. The room fills with an additional red light, making him smile. Yes...mood lighting. He's looking through the dresser across the bed when the door swings open, an angry-looking woman greeting him. He smiles at her, arms crossed behind his back. "Hello, [Y/N]-" "I don't allow any clients to touch me, much less have me for 12 hours straight!" You interrupt as you fume, glaring at the magician before you. "Must be your lucky night then." Hisoka chuckles, running his entrancing eyes over your body. Your minimal clothing was enticing to say the least, easily getting him worked up. But the air of mystery swarming around you fuels his horniness more. He needs to find out what exactly you are up to. The door suddenly closes firmly behind you, clicking locked behind the woman. You panic, trying to open the locked door handle. As predicted, it doesn't budge. "I think what you mean by not allowing anyone to touch you, you also mean you haven't even touched yourself?" Hisoka asks, beginning to walk over to you with his hands still behind his back. Your aura suddenly springs to life, surrounding your body in an instant. Hisoka smirks, continuing his approach. "St-Stand back, clown! I will not hesitate to send you flying!" You stamper, projecting your Nen in an offensive manner. "Hm..." Hisoka ponders, stopping inches away from you.

You're strong, but not nearly as strong as he is. He wonders how long you've been practicing. Must've been a few years now. You place yourself in a defensive stance, one arm angled up at a 90-degree angle and the other positioned a little below that one in the same stance, legs spread apart with one a little behind the other. Ah, yes. Every stereotypical position most fighters took when looking to fight. It looks silly with what you're wearing. And the look on your face was so hilariously serious. That's why Hisoka couldn't stop himself from laughing. He seriously tried to contain it, but the silliness of your posture combined with your facial expression absolutely cracked him up. This reaction serves to royally piss off the woman in front of him. "What?! What's so funny?!" You snap at him, clenching your hands into fists. He laughs himself to literal tears, holding his stomach with one clawed hand. "It's just...Your Nen compares next to nothing against mine, but your effort is quite adorable." The Transmuter purrs, wiping his cheek and taking a step closer to you. You look worried, taking a step away from the man. He responds by simply taking a step closer. "Wh-What do you want from me, f-freak?" You stutter nervously, finding yourself being backed into a corner. "Why, you of course." The magician licks his lips to emphasize his statement. A blush crosses your [s/c] cheeks, your eyes gleaming with fear. The look is so utterly delicious to him.

He chuckles, continuing to walk towards you. You back up until your back is literally against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go expect towards the creepy man. You breathe shakily, making your fear of him clear. "Well, let's get started...[Y/N]." Hisoka smiles, placing his hand next to your head and leaning down to touch noses with you. It's clear his height intimidates you. You swallow and swing, missing your Nen-powered punch by a longshot. He dodges, letting the attack wisp by his right star-drawn cheek. Hisoka giggles at your attempt, grabbing your outstretched hand with his free one and pinning it against the wall you were up against. You look totally helpless, fuelling his desire more. "Oh-ho-ho, trying to hit me are you now? Your attempt turns me on." He teases, fully smiling at your clear look of panic. His eyes narrow as your Nen powers up, sensing that you're up to something. He uses Gyo, centering his Ren in his eyes and watching your aura, watching as it enhances to your hidden fist behind you and to your left leg. So you're an Enhancer, hm? You were going to try to bait him with a fake punch before actually hitting him with your left leg? Okay. He feigns as if he doesn't suspect anything, allowing you to throw your fist at him before pulling back, jumping up and predictably swinging your leg at the left side of his teardrop-stained cheek. He allows the attack to land on him, his head snapping to the side with a frightening speed. Your eyes light up victoriously, but they soon dim to horror as he turns his scuffed up face back to look down at you with a smug smirk. "Any normal person would have flown away with that attack, so I must say I'm impressed. Yet, I'm not a normal man if you can't already tell. Your attacks will provide you with no protection if I haven't already predicted this. It's cute that you think you have an evenly-scored battleground with me." Hisoka chuckles, pinning you against the wall with both of your hands restrained by his at this point.

Your expressive eyes give away your anxiety of the situation, but your face remains hard with determination. The look reminds him of a certain 12-year old boy. This stirs his lust for you up further. He licks at his pale lips seductively, yellow eyes glowing into your own [e/c] ones. Your cold glare sends a spike of pleasure right to his hardened dick. He smiles wider if possible. It's becoming increasingly clear that you have no chance against him and he finds this power over you intoxicating, delicious even. "I have a question for you, [Y/N]. Sate my curiosity if you will." The clown husks, putting his mouth right next to your right ear. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face and you gulp nervously. "Shoot." Your icy voice fills his ears, and he gives a simple, "Hmm." at your compliance. You were going to be so much fun to break. He really chose the right contender to satisfy his needs. He snickers into your ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of it. It causes you to barely shiver. It was almost imperceptible, but not to perceptive Hisoka. He grins with this discovery, deciding not to voice it. You would soon find your body betraying you. "Pray tell what you're doing in a place like this? We both know you're not qualified for sex work, so what really brings you here, [Y/N]?" Hisoka's flirtatious voice whispers against your flesh. You noticeably tense up at the question, your hands forming into fists. Your wrists flex in his grasp. He seems to have hit a sore spot. You don't respond immediately. This moves Hisoka to press his body up against yours. Your almost completely exposed chest rubs up against his completely covered one and you gasp at his movements, clearly not expecting them. "Mmm your body feels delightful up against me dear~ Now answer the question." He lustfully whispers in your ear. You seem frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise. He decides he quite likes that expression, ingraining it into his memory. You quickly catch yourself, squirming against his body. "Let m-me go!" You stutter. Your futile attempts only rub him in all the right ways and he moans deeply, the noise hitting your right ear loudly. You gasp, your cheeks reddening with...desire? You freeze up again. He chuckles. "You feel amazing rubbing up against me like that~ Now...are you going to answer or am I going to force it out of you?~" He mumbles sensually, rubbing his lips against the flesh of your ear. You lick your lips to moisten them, your breathing correcting itself quickly.

"I'm here to collect a bounty." You simply state, watching his pale face out of the corner of your right eye. He laughs. "Liar." He growls into your ear, his hands tightening on your wrists before he throws you behind him. He listens as your delectable body bounces on the massive mattress before he turns around, predatory eyes focusing on your scared ones as you sit up on the bed. "That's the truth-" "Incorrect. I'm simply calling you out on your bullshit." Hisoka grins, beginning to approach the bed with obvious sexual intentions. You back away to the headboard of the bed, your back pressing against the splintering wood. He crawls onto the king-sized cot, stopping as soon as he looms on top of you. The look in his eyes is hungry as he looks down your body once again. He loves the position you're in. Utterly helpless. He places his hands beneath your arms, leaning down so that he's touching noses with you again. "Answer the question. Truthfully this time." He adds, smiling deviously in your flustered face. Your mouth remains shut. That's fine. It's well past time for him to immerse himself in your beautiful body. He reaches underneath you, carefully manipulating his clawed hand to the string of your toppiece. He unties it, the flimsy material of the lingerie falling away from your breasts almost instantly. You puff out a noise of embarrassment, your hands quickly coming to aid in hiding your tits from him. The magician quickly evades this method however, encircling both your wrists in his hands again and pinning them next to your head. He takes a long look at your perfect bust, practically drooling at the sight of them. He truly scored with this catch. He smiles, making eye contact with you again. He does not hide his lust from you this time. "Fine.~ I suppose I'll have to try a different method to coax an answer out of you." He punctuates this by licking his lips, moving his face over your bosom. Your eyes watch, curious as to what he'll do. You look nervous and Hisoka couldn't hold back his smirk. The nervousness only virgins hold. This'll be one hell of a lay. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

He sticks out his tongue, running it over your left nipple before popping it into his mouth. He gives an experimental suck and watches as your body jolts beneath him. A noise akin to pleasure leaves your throat and you look embarrassed at this, closing your eyes. His smile widens and he continues to suck on your nipple, running his tongue over it at the same time. He releases your right hand when he's sure you won't move, using his free hand to massage your other boob. He kneads the flesh in his palm, squeezing the whole thing harshly. Your back arches off the bed and a groan leaves your lips, your hands squeezing as you squirm beneath him. Beautiful. The way you respond to him. You must be sensitive. He watches your face with his observate eyes, watching as your face relaxes into a sort of pleasured expression. Perfect. He pops your breast out of his mouth, replacing it with his other hand. He continues his ministrations for a few quiet moments, listening as you release more pleased noises. This heats up his body more and as a result, his own face flushes up with his desire. "So [Y/N].~ You ready to spill the beans?" Hisoka asks, squeezing both of your tits rather roughly. You pant, opening your defiant eyes to glare at him. "Never." You huff, shivering beneath him. He chuckles. "Shame.~" He continues to fondle you, this time kissing and dragging his tongue against your stomach. Your muscles tense and untense and a full fledged moan dares to leave your mouth. Sensitive you are indeed. This causes Hisoka himself to shiver, your moan music to his ears. He drags his tongue up your stomach, in between the valley of your boobs and up to your neck, where he centers his attack. He laves his tongue in the area, kissing it too. Your moans double in volume and he smiles to himself. "Dare to share, [Y/N]~?" He huskily whispers, licking up to your earlobe and nibbling it. “Ahn- N-No." You pant, trying to remain as stoic as before. You were for sure a challenge...and Hisoka loves challenges. Chuckling, he bites at the skin of your neck, enjoying your flinch in response. "Fine. Be that way." He responds, returning his attention to your tits. He massages the flesh in his clawed hands, tweaking the nipples at the same time. He pulls them, making your back arch to follow them. He leans down to your face, running his nose against your cheek before kissing it. He moves his face towards your left ear, breathing hotly against it. You freeze up before shivering in response. "Perhaps I'll have to take more...drastic measures." He whispers into your ear, his right hand releasing its grip on your left boob and hovering over the side of your hip where a tie holds up the bottom piece of your sexy outfit.

He pulls at the measly string, untying it from your hip. It loosens the fabric, yet the triangular material protecting your modesty continues to cover it. This is fine. He unties the other string, the fabric effectively falling slack against your skin. Hisoka releases all touches, focusing on your lower body now. You move to cover your most sensitive bits, but Hisoka simply smacks your hands away with force, moving back to take the covering away from you. As you yelp and rub your hands, he uses his to grab the thong, taking it away from your body. He stares at your pussy in all its glory, licking his lips. "Say...~ all this interrogating has got me famished. You don't mind if I have a little snack, right?~" His seductive voice proclaims, spreading open your thighs and settling himself in between them. Your nervous eyes alight his own dilated ones and he continues his prowl. He inhales your scent deeply, moaning. Yes, you smell absolutely scrumptious! "I will not be asking you questions from here on out. I will be demanding them. So, [Y/N]. Tell me why you're actually here." He almost snarls, his claws digging into the skin of your hips, drawing a small amount of blood. You wince, but remain strong. "No." You respond icily, acting as if you weren't intimidated. It's almost cute, but he can smell your fear. You reek of it. He chuckles. "Alright.~" He immediately dives into your pussy, licking a stripe up to your clit. You gasp, an ungodly pornographic moan leaving your throat. Hisoka groans in response to your taste, licking up what is all of you. His practiced tongue flicks against your clit and your body twists around, full-fledged, unembarrassed moans leaving your mouth as his sucks on your sensitive sex. His thumbs spread your lower lips open and he flattens his tongue, giving another harsh lick all the way up. He sucks on your hole and you keen, arching your back all the way up. "W-wait -AH- I think I'm going to cum!" You yell out those magic words, your hands grabbing at his hair. That was fast. This fuels his goal further and he eats at you with much more fervor. He slurps your pussy, eating up all you have to offer. Your moans grow more high-pitched and before the both of you know it, you're cumming into Hisoka's mouth. He sucks up all the cum you have to offer, unabashedly enjoying all of it. By the end of it, you're a panting and sweating mess, while Hisoka remains fresh. "Wonderful.~" He murmurs dirtily against you, lapping at your pussy again. You flinch, panting up a storm. You release your grip on his hair, moving your hands to wipe sweat off of your forehead. "W-Wait. I'm too sensit- OH!" You exclaim as he sucks on your clit, watching your face closely this time. Your cheeks are the reddest he's ever seen anyone's become and your eyes are dilated with desire, something he secretly hurrahs in his head. You look amazing. He watches your mouth open in a frenzied moan and shivers, continuing his attack on your pussy. As he continues, he watches you unravel before him yet again. The sight is damning to say the least. You were a gorgeous sight to gaze at and he almost couldn't let you cum a second time, getting caught up in his own desire. He begins to rub himself against the bed to ease himself, moaning into your clit. The vibrations make your toes curl and you throw your head back in a scream. He watches your face as you come undone beneath him yet again, marvelling at your orgasmic expression. That's a face he's certainly going to remember forever.

You're different from his other whores, seeing how you aren't an experienced one. Also seeing as he didn't perform these acts on his other playthings. You're...special. To him for now at least. Surely you wouldn't mean anything once he's finished with you, right? He creeps up your body once your grip on his pink hair loosens, throwing off his shirt and undergarments, exposing his ripped physique to you. Your eyes hungrily trail down the eight-pack, coming into contact with the tent in his loose pants. "I will try this one last time. Final chance. Tell me what your purpose is being here, now." His authoritative tone falls on horny ears. You shake your head, expression firm. He smiles. "Very well..." He strips off the rest of his clothing. Your eyes are trained on his hard dick, a look of panic behind them. He smiles and positions himself at your entrance, wrapping his hands on your soft hips. You seem to second guess yourself. "W-Wait--" "Too late, [Y/N]. You can't stop me from taking you now." He huskily interrupts, beginning to push into your tight pussy. You yowl, pushing your hands against his muscled abdomen. His grips tightens on your hips and despite your efforts, his cock continues to push inside of you, rendering you helpless beneath him. You gasp, shakily exhaling. Your weak arms eventually give up, falling to the sides of you in defeat. He enjoys your submission, fueling his lust for you. He pushes himself in all the way with a hard thrust, making you cry out in pain as your virginity is given to him. He sits there for a minute, relishing in his victory and at the tightness of your walls around him.

He shudders, his whole body rocking with it. It was painfully noticeable. It feels amazing to be inside of you. That's a fact he couldn't hide. "Oh [Y/N].~ You...ngh...feel marvelous.~" Hisoka moans heavily, his grip on your hips growing tighter to the point of being painful. You quietly groan beneath him, arching your back as he begins to move. He moves out and in slowly, testing the waters. You squeak, grabbling your death grip on the sheets on the bed, bunching the material up in your fists. What a sexy display. It'd be better if it was on him instead. He encourages you to grab his back by lowering his chest to touch yours, putting his face next to yours. He effectively covers your body with his own. You get the gist of what he's trying to do, raking your nails against his back as you grab at it. He shudders at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and in response, thrusts into your tight pussy roughly. You yelp at the new sensation, throwing your head back as the pleasure surges through you. Hisoka treasures your expression of newfound enjoyment, really relishing in being the cause of it. He nips at your ear, groaning deeply when it causes your inner walls to convulse around him more. He'll use that knowledge at a later time. For now, he hotly exhales against your flesh, making you shiver against him. He sets out a slow and punishing rhythm, slowly pulling out before forcefully shoving himself back in. You cry out each time his hips meet yours, tears forming at the edge of your eyes from the intensity of his fucking. Hisoka simply smiles, deciding to speed things up a bit. He quickens his pace, smacking against your hips more frequently now. "How's it feel, [Y/N]? Tell me - mm - how my cock feels inside of you." He grunts, sitting up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his dirty talk and Hisoka stops, almost cumming from the expression alone. He pants, pausing for only a moment. He awaits your response while he recovers, watching as your eyes return, your dilated [e/c] eyes looking into his lustful yellow ones. You attempt to roll your hips back onto him, but you fail horribly. You did, however, manage to sink down onto the rest of him, a moan leaving your mouth from feeling so full. Hisoka giggles. "So greedy for my dick~ Tell me how it feels, [Y/N].~" He puts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up more to him. He doesn't move. Not until you choose to respond, that is.

You whine at the lack of friction, glaring up at him with that desireful expression you hold. He smiles. You relent, closing your eyes. "Y-Your cock feels amazing, Hisoka." You admit, gasping and practically screaming as he continues his fucking you from the new position he put you in. Your eyes once again roll to the back of your head from the sheer force that he's pumping into you. You're a sweaty mess while Hisoka remains good as new, the workout hardly giving him any strain. You let out a cry as one of his thumbs connects with your clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts. Hisoka moans as you tighten around him and he continues to push into you, harsher now. Your vocality rings through his ears, heating up his body more if possible. His flushed face grows darker still and he singles in on his primary focus: making you cum again. He breathes heavily, thrusting into you at a now impossibly fast pace. Your moans feed into screams, your eyes closed from the intensity of his fucking you. He continues to finger your clit, focusing on your orgasm. He wasn't even close to his, but he decides that your release is more of a spectacle than his own. He zeroes in on it, listening as your moans reach a higher octave. Then, without warning, you arch your back for the last time, crying out as you reach your peak. Your walls milk him, but he refuses to cum, just watching your face as your orgasm rips through you for the third time. He'd definitely remember that face until he's cut from this world. He pulls out of you, settling on massaging your clit a little longer as you ride out the waves of euphoria. You twitch and moan breathlessly, gasping for air from the come down. Hisoka just watches, enjoying your facial expressions. You were certainly something. He stops touching you when you come down completely, breathing harshly. Your flustered eyes open, looking at his still lust-filled ones.

"I...," You start. Hisoka listens, tilting his head in curiosity. "I was assigned here to find you, Hisoka." You pant, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your eyes are encircled in that hard set determination yet again as you tell him this. "My orders are to dispose of you." You admit, hardening your gaze. Hisoka smiles...and it's not a nice one. "Is that so?" He chuckles, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Tell me more as you sing for me...[Y/N].~ We've still got ten hours left for you to tell me all."

_______

Word count: 5,000+

Next chapter should arrive sometime today on Saturday, May 1st. I’m so sorry for the delay ;-;

[luvsicksubs]

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heat - kyotani kentarou

warnings: pegging, reader is so goddamn mean, making fun of maddog for being maddog, brat!kyo </3, fem!reader

this is based off that one post

a/n: hello! this scene is pretty intense at some parts and can read as dubcon (brat-taming has a tendency for that but it’s all consensual between these two)  so im gonna put the warning

also, when practicing bdsm - please practice being safe, sane and consensual . make sure you have a system for you and your partner to communicate your headspace during the scene. don’t be afraid to safeword, dom or sub and practice good communication.

this fic has reader use the greenlight system, a common safeword system in bdsm. green for go, yellow for slow down, and red for hard stop.

i’ve included a little scene of aftercare for context of the reader and kyo’s relationship and for everyone to have a peace of mind. take care of your sub boys and take care of your doms <3

“C’mon, Kyo - why don’t you fuckin give it up already?,”

You slam your hips forward, forcing Kyoutani forward on his elbows and knees. His hole clenches so tightly it’s hard to move, yet your pace remains relentless. You checked in just before, that he wants this despite himself but you can’t deny how fun this is to tease him.

“Fuck off,” he barks through gritted teeth. You laugh, tone incredibly arrogant as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. You angle your hips, wrapping one around his cock and toying with the ring as you set a pace before simple wrapping your first around it. He groans, his voice coming out in sporadic grunts and broken moans.

You’e waiting on it - the moment Kyotani simply breaks out of his facade and admits to himself how much he likes all this. All signs point to yes, but your Kyo is nothing if not a fighter. He grits his teeth so hard he feel like he might break his jaw, thinking for a second you’re showing him mercy. Instead, your using your hands to spread his ass apart before giving deep and long strokes. The angle upward presses right against his prostate and oh fuck - his elbows give out from pleasure. His face is buried in your sheets, hands clutching at something.

“Color?,”

“Green,”

He’s so weak right now, you manage to keep both of his arms behind him as you continue your maddening pace. The pressure in his stomach is only building and he needs to cum so bad. He won’t like this.

“Your ass is so fucking tight baby,” you say giving it a harsh hit. The stinging makes him bite his lip as desire floods him

“Your cock is practically fucking drooling all over my hands,” you make note of as you jerk him off at an equally slow pace. He swears in strings under his breath, unable to keep his composure. ‘

“How fucking filthy are you, Kyo? You’re rock hard cause you’ve got your girlfriend fucking you like some cheap broad - and you’re loving every second of it,”

“Fuck you,”

“Dunno, Mad-Dog - the way you’re sucking me up right now tells me you’re liking this a hell of a lot more,”

“Shit, no way - I’m not liking this,”

“Tell me to stop then why don’t you? If you hate it so much, you know I’d never make you. You asked me, remember? Asked me to fuck this tight little thing and make you cum untouched like the bitch in heat that you are,”

“Shut up, fuck,” pleasure courses through him at hearing your gruff words.  You always treat him so sweetly but it’s making him dizzy to hear you like this. So fucking mocking, and disrespectful as you pound him so hard and so good the back of his thighs are stinging.

His cock is so angry and aching. Everything in him is burning dizzy with the feeling of your cock stretching him out and filling his stomach. It feels like you’re in his spine with the way your angled. He needs to cum. He needs to cum so hard against your hand and make a mess and then he needs to do it a hundred times over to get some relief.

“Come on love. It’s just me and you here. I’m the only one whose gonna fill you up like this so don’t go worrying about it - your boys aint gonna hear it from me,” you say cheekily.

Kyotani is trying so hard to hold it in. Some kind of involuntary reaction washes over him painfully and he can feel nothing coming out but that familiar feeling. Holy shit - he thought that only happened in porn.

“Can’t help but be curious about your boys might think if they knew their mad-dog was some bitch. See you get so riled up and whiny over dick like you’re a dumb slut just might make ‘em laugh,”

His dick twitches mindlessly again, how fucking embarrassing. You whistle under your breath and Kyotani feels his soul leave his body.

You pick your pace again, making his stomach lay flat on the bed as you press on the lower parts of his spine and fuck some sense into him for the last time.  Sweat is beading down his forehead in concentration You lean down, licking the shell of his ear before whining.

“Gonna milk that pretty cock of yours dry tonight no matter what it takes Kyo,” you say, pressing even harder on his back. He cries out, unable to escape the feeling.

“Admit to me you like it and I’ll reward you by touching you - if not, I’ll make sure and find some other ways. Mmkay?,”

“Fuck, fuck - yes, it feels so good. Feels so fucking good when you fuck me with your cock now please, please touch me. Please make me cum before I lose my mind,” he babbles, his voice thoroughly wrecked. Your core burns with desire as you laugh.

“Got it, baby. Flip over me,”

And he does, laying on his back, you make him hold his legs up and fuck the daylight out of him, spitting in your hands and sliding it over his dick with ease. Now everything happens quickly, so quickly Kyotani barely has sight of you. When you lean over him, he wraps his arms around your neck and moans brokenly through his orgasm. Drool is dry on the corner of his lips and his face is entirely crimson. So fucked out he can barely meet your eyes.

“God, nggh, shit - it’s,”

He shoots hot white so far that hits your chest and drips on his. He almost yells, vision going bleary for a few seconds too long as you guide him through his orgasm.

He returns to his senses in a few troubling moments. As soon as he feels you pull out, he shudders at the emptiness and drags your frame over him. He’s clingy after sex always, but especially at times like this.

“You okay?,”

“Hn,”

_

[aftercare]

Kyotanis heartbeat is slow. After he came, you showered together and chatted softly about nothing. He washed your hair and clung close the whole time, clearly exhausted. Thoroughly tuckered out, he now is laying in your side. Face buried in your neck. It’s this part that’s still hard for Kyotani, that you love him so much to still stay after all the sex. It feels so goo to be here like this, he almost wants to run away. It’s terrifying to wear his hear on his sleeve.

But you make it so easy. You make it all better, and he does the same for you by trusting you. To love, and be loved.

“How was it, baby? Did I do okay?,”

He sighs, nodding.

“You always do fuckin’ great,” he says with no malice. Strong arms are secured around your middle, a sign you aren’t going anywhere tonight and you laugh.

“Nothing was too much, right? The boys comment i was worried about,”

He moves to look up at you, shaking his head. He grins wickedly, pinching your sides.

“I know you’d never really do that, too soft - but it was hot when you threatened me,”

You giggle at that, and his smile becomes genuine as it settles into your sides. You run your hands along the prickly hairs on his head, humming.

“You did really good too baby. I’m so proud of you,”

He doesn’t respond to that, just huffs and tightens his grip. He knows you mean it, so no words are exchanged for a while.

“Did you cum?,”

You’re surprised by the sudden question and prying eyes. It’s small but it’s how you know he cares.

“Not yet. I was gonna take care of it later since you seemed -”

He immediately scoots himself between your thighs, resting his cheek on your bare thigh and looking at you with another wild smile.

“Can I have my reward then?,”

You smile at him. Still your good boy then, asking for permission. He seems exhausted but he still wants to take care of you and you’re inclined to let him. You nod, yawning a little as you pull your panties to the side.

“Eat up, baby,” you add slickly. He mumbles a heavy thanks before doing just as you ask.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

[pseudofaux]

pseu slings for the fences

Hi all, my requests are open! This is the last time I plan to open them... bittersweet feelings over here! But before I put both feet firmly in the future/commissions/original stuff land, I definitely want to offer freebies one more time. So here we go! From April 22-May 1, 2021, you can ask for:

3 headcanons for a single character (“one fluffy, one dirty, one wildcard” has been popular, but you’re welcome to ask for anything)

1 headcanon for three characters (more IkeVamp men with babies! What couture gown would Mitsunari, Masanori, and Hideyoshi buy for you?)

A drabble with any combination of mood, phrase, setting, conflict, kink, etc. you have in mind. Length will completely depend on my inspiration, but I’ll make the edges match up as best I can. ♥️

You can request something from any of the media listed here. For examples of what people have asked for before, you can check out the tipseu and pseu slings links at the bottom of my masterlist.

Here are the only rules:

Be polite— don’t ask for more than I’m offering, don’t put in more than one ask (we’re on the honor system with anon being on). Do consider putting a please in your request. Please.

No songfic requests (Can’t do ’em and it takes me forever to try)

Don’t be afraid to be specific! If you say “Ieyasu, praise kink” I’m not sure if you want Ieyasu or his partner to have the kink, and if you’re on anon I have no way of checking in with you. So long as you’re polite, I’m not going to be offended by a very specific request! “IkeSen Ieyasu with a shy MC who has a praise kink, please” gives me exactly what I need. Do make sure to specify which game if you’re asking for a Sengoku character.

Don’t be afraid to be bold, either! Ask for what you want, this chance is exactly for that and it’s a limited + last time offer. There’s power in asking! If you’re feeling shy, use that anon to get a little fantasy fulfilled in fiction form. (I’m not going to write you anything problematic unless you ask for it, but feel free to throw what you actually want at me— I’m okay with writing darker stuff and most kinks, especially upon request like this)

Character/female MC is my preset, but ships are fine, as usual! Poly, suitor/suitor, solo stuff all okay. Just gotta tell me what you want so I can write it for you. ♥️

How long it takes me to fill these will depend on how many I get and what they are, but I’m planning to have them all done before the end of May. I really appreciate everyone who has read and followed (and especially those who have commented or reblogged/tagged with their thoughts!) over the years. I’m still playing these games (ʜᴇʟᴘ) and I’ll still be posting after these requests are filled, and still up for fun asks, and writer help whenever my schedule permits. [If you want to play the home game, I’m using a spreadsheet to track requests (no names attached) and progress. You’re welcome to take a look at what’s been requested so far! Link is in the notes.]

[tmngoose]

Some Assembly Required: a Rottmnt story

Remember this post? Well, I decided to clean up what I had and show it to y’all. This was supposed to be a much longer story, but back when I was writing it, I jumped ship for a different fic I was working on and never came back OTL Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Leo, April, Shelldon, Draxum, Huginn & Muninn (albeit super brief) Tags: Lab accidents, fires, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, obscure UHF reference I won’t be uploading this to Ao3, so you can read it under the cut :U

For the longest time, Donnie dreamed of the perfect lab partner. Though Shelldon was an impeccable assistant, there were moments where Donnie longed to work side-by-side with another scientist. Someone with a thirst for knowledge! Someone who shared his passion for all things technical and methodical; a scientist, just like he considered himself to be! 

To think Baron Draxum would be Donnie's long-awaited lab partner was not a scenario the Softshell had ever fathomed. Still, it was one he accepted with great enthusiasm. 

Draxum and Donnie saw no reason to doubt their capabilities. However, the rest of the family remained wary whenever the two of them went off meddling in the lab. With April's help, Raph, Leo, and Mikey devised a strict set of guidelines to ensure Donnie and Draxum wouldn't get into too much trouble. 

"Scoff!" Donnie threw the hefty packet of rules down at his feet, offended. "What do you take us for: a pair of unhinged Frankensteins? Y'know, it'd be nice if, just for once, you guys would have a little faith in our scientific endeavors!" 

"It's not that we don't trust you guys," April explained, "It's just... you guys tend to get a little carried away with your projects, that's all!" 

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"The last time Barry was in a lab, he created the Oozesquitos," April folded her arms, "And don't get me started about the time you messed with your brother's brains."

"Okay! I get it!" Donnie sighed. He picked up the packet of rules and flapped the dust out from its pages. "We won't get carried away: Todd scout's honor." 

April smiled, "Thanks, Dee." 

"Yes, well, if you'll excuse me, Draxum and I were just about to partake in our latest  scientific acquisition: Professor Philo's Chemistry Set for the At-Home Scientist!" Donnie started off for his lab, tucking the packet into a compartment in his battle-shell.

April shook her head, smiling as she headed inside the living room, where the sounds of 8-bit gaming welcomed her. Raph and Mikey were too invested in whatever racing game they were playing to notice April. 

"Soo, how'd it go?" Leo asked from his beanbag chair. "Is Donnie mad that we're afraid he'll bring Potatozilla into existence or what?"

"I say he handled it pretty well!" April plopped herself down in the recliner. "I told Donnie that we just wanted to make sure he and Draxum toned it down a bit, that's all." 

"See? I told you he'd listen to April!" Mikey grinned smugly at Leo.

Leo rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He went back to scrolling his social feed on his phone, "I'll believe it when they don't create a giant mutant potato or somethin'."

"Be nice, Leo," April swung her legs over the armrest. "We've gotta have a little faith in 'em. Besides, I've never seen Donnie this happy since-" 

KA-BOOOOOOM!!!

A powerful tremor shook the lair, taking everyone by surprise. The trinkets Splinter's 'Do Not Touch' cabinet rattled and shook, a few of the lighter items clattered to the floor. April held onto the armchair with Raph steadying it before it could topple over backward. Mikey hid inside of his shell out of reflex as Leo jumped to his feet, prepared to face whatever threat was upon them.

"Omigosh!" Mikey exclaimed, popping his head out of his shell. "What was that?!" 

"You don't think DIGG's tryin' to take down the Kaufman Coliseum again?" Raph frowned, trying to rub the ringing out from his ears. 

"Um, guys?" Leo sniffed the air, "Does anyone else smell something burning, or is that Raph's 'Taken-By-Surprise' stink?" 

Raph sniffed at his underarm, "Nope. It's not me!" 

April and Mikey took a moment to smell the air, their noses wrinkled at the familiar acrid odor of smoke. 

And smoke could only mean one thing: something was on fire. 

Oh no! Donnie! Barry! April's stomach dropped over the thought. She bolted out of the living room with Raph, Leo, and Mikey right behind her. "Please let it be a giant mutant potato!" 

It wasn't a giant mutant potato. 

By the time they entered the atrium, a thick cloud of smoke had spilled out from the mouth of Donnie's lab, billowing up into the rafters above. Although they couldn't see it, they could hear the fire roaring from deep within the lab.

"Mad Dogz!" Raph barked, "Initiate ‘Fire Safety Plan Alpha!’"  “FSssPAH!” Mikey pronounced the acronym from the back of the group.

But before Raph could lead the rescue, Draxum leaped out from the smoke carrying Donnie in his arms; their matching lab coats singed. Shelldon flew out, not too far behind, with Huginn and Munnin holding onto his back. 

"Barry!" April ran up to the soot-stained alchemist. "What happened?! I thought y'all we're gonna take things easy? Didn’t y’all read the packet?!" 

"We were," Draxum rasped, passing Donnie's limp body into Raph's arms. "If it weren't for a pair of idle hands." He gave his gargoyles a sharp look while removing the safety goggles from his face, leaving clean rings around his eyes.

Munnin's wings sagged, "The instructions weren't joking when it said 'everything in this chemistry set is a fire hazard.'"

"Yeah, including the instructions," Huginn hung his head, "Our bad."

"So, how're we suppose to handle this whole situation?" Leo asked, gesturing to the raging inferno that was (formally) Donnie's lab.

"I'm on it, dudes!" Shelldon replied, concentrating on his emergency protocols hardwired into his drives.

The fire-alarm system blared to life. Then came the hissing of the sprinklers going off and the gush of extinguishing foam spraying deep within the lab. Slowly, the smoke was beginning to ease up, much to everyone's relief.

Slowly, Donnie began to stir, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness, "Ugh... what? M-my lab..." His confusion morphed into panic as he realized the severity of the situation. "My lab!!" He squirmed feebly in Raph's arms, mortified.

"Woah, take it easy," Raph held Donnie against him, firm enough to subdue him yet careful not to hurt him. "That chemistry set of yours nearly got you guys barbequed." 

Donnie frowned, "No, you don't understand!" His eyes stung with tears as he thought of his life's work gone in a blaze of unsupervised stupidity. "Everything's ruined!"

"Hey, you don't know that for sure!" April gently touched Donnie's shoulder. "Besides, what's important is you're both okay!" 

"April's right," Mikey agreed, clinging to Draxum's side, "We're glad y'all made it out safely. A little flambéed, but you get the idea."

"But my lab," Donnie emphasized. 

"Lab shmab, we can worry about that later!" Leo nudged Draxum with his elbow. "For now, let's focus on getting you toasted marshmallows taken care of."

"Yeah, what Leo said!" Raph adjusted Donnie in his arms, heading for the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. "Just you wait; maybe it's not as bad as you think!"

                                                            -x-

Raph's sense of judgment was always a mixed bag, and this time, he couldn't have been farther from the truth. 

The lab was a smoldering mess, virtually unrecognizable to the Turtles, Draxum, and April. The walls were blackened, and the smell of burnt wiring and computer parts hung sourly in the air. Puddles of foam and water gathered in parts of the floor, adding to the disarray.

Donnie searched desperately for anything salvageable, but the prospects were slim to none. The bandaged Softshell approached the remnants of his workstation, absolutely gutted. He reached for what was once a prototype for a new battle shell, but it crumbled into ash in his hands. 

"Alas, this must've been what it felt like to lose the Library of Alexandria," Donnie mourned poetically, sinking to his knees. Shelldon drifted up to his heartbroken creator, pressing his head against Donnie's side like the loyal drone he was.

"Okaaayyy, so it's a little charbroiled in here," Leo cringed. "But if anyone can fix this, it's you!" 

"Do you have any idea how long that'll take me?" Donnie moaned, overwhelmed by the daunting task. "It took me years of refurbishing junk and computer parts, and now I have nothing! Zilch! Nada! No equipment, no materials, no anything!"

Donnie's outburst left the others speechless. They had seen him upset before, but nothing to this extent. 

Quietly, Draxum approached Donatello, "As someone who has lost their life's work twice, I understand your plight," he said, joining the turtle on the floor. "However, unlike myself, you are fortunate not to face this endeavor alone. You have your friends, your brothers, and... your lab partner," Draxum looked off to the side, somewhat flustered by the sentimental mushiness his words implied. 

"Draxibald's right, Donnie!" Mikey beamed. He was so proud of Barry for stepping up to the plate. He popped up in between them, slinging his arms over their shoulders, "You've got us to help you! We'll have your lab up and running in no time!"

Leo smiled, "Yeah, with you bossing us around, we can totally get the job done!"

"But a total rebuild of this scope requires a certain level of technological sophistication!" Donnie deflated, "So unless you know of any tech-savvy geniuses out there, I don't see how any of this is possible."

"Oh, I know a guy," April answered, "And I'm lookin' right at him~" She smiled at Donnie, who didn't know how to process the compliment. "Have a little faith in yourself, Dee!"  Donnie blinked, stunned that his own words were used against him.

"Yeah, you said so yourself!” Raph joined in, “You and that big brain of yours built this lab out of nothin' but junk! If there's anyone who can build back better than ever, it's you! So whaddya say, Don?"

Donnie looked at Raph's hand extended out to him. He then glanced over at Leo, Mikey, and April, all eagerly awaiting his response. He turned to Draxum, who gave a curt nod.

Touched by the support of his family, Donnie wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, "I say let's order some pizzas and chop-chop! Rome wasn't built in a day, people! We've got our work cut out for us!"  He took Raph’s hand and was lifted up from the ground.  Yes, Donnie supposed he could have a little faith in himself, and everyone else as well.

[xonepeacelovex]

I think it’s time to slowly put down my pen.

Hello, this is user xonepeacelovex or M (or Em). I would not go into my personal details but I am currently a medical student and forever a KPop fan. This is the first time I am introducing myself in Tumblr after years of using this platform. (I also don’t know why.)

I can’t say I am a writer though I write stories that are in my head, rent-free. So one day I decided to put it into words and post it like any other normal human being would do. Just to get it out of my system than it occupying my mind 24/7. Thankfully and I am forever grateful that people, readers like myself, read, love or relate to my stories.

Ha! I am saying this because...

I think it’s time to slowly put down my pen.

This has been on my mind since last year when I started medical school but I can’t bring myself to decide right away because I love telling stories and I know I still have stories in my mind that I want to write. So like my very indecisive self, I push it at the back of my mind. Hence, I post stories once in a while and I feel really sorry about the inconsistent updates or for waiting for too long for an update. (Though to be clear, no one is harassing me to update.) Definitely, it is not because I am in medical school though that takes a lot of my time and writing also takes a lot of time and effort. (So to all the writers out there, I appreciate you all.) I will not abandoned my unfinished stories. I will still write endings to all of them. But after writing the last update, I don’t think I’ll write any more stories. This makes me very emotional because these stories that I decided to share in the world are very dear to me. These stories are where I hide and feel safe. These stories are regrets, like a time travel where I can write my own happy ending. These stories are also memories I want to keep forever, for one thing or another. I thought I write them because of people that inspires me but I realised these stories are love letters for myself especially “The Wedding Planner”. Thus, I find it very hard to write updates for TWP now that I am no longer in that place. I am no longer Y/N. Before, I write because it hurts. (The reason I rarely write fluff stuffs.) I write and write until all the pain and sadness were gone, until I feel empty again. I can’t say I am no longer in that state right now but I think I write enough that writing became healing.

In the future, when I finally post the last update of The Wedding Planner. I wanted you to know that it’s the ending I needed but not wanted. (Is this a spoiler? I don’t know.) I’ll take this opportunity to show my gratitude to my friends Kia and @chans-starlight​, Lexie, who also write stories (Check her out!!!). I’m sorry for ghosting you guys. Thank you for everything. Luv yah! I am also thankful to all the readers of my stories and followers of this blog. This has been a great journey with all of you. (I will not delete this account but I will be inactive unless there’s a comeback, then I needed an outlet to scream.) And to all the blogs I’ve been following, you guys are amazing. Finally, to my fellow “writers” (I still don’t think I qualify to call myself one.) or to people who wants to write but are afraid, just keep writing and keep putting it out in the world. The world needs stories to keep it going. Disclaimer: I am not a successful writer nor a popular blog but I enjoyed writing. That’s what matters right? See you in my next story. Luv y’all! <3 You can check out my stories here.

[whirlybirbs]

this might sound weird (and if so pls ignore this!) but do you care about notes and interactions on your fics? im a writer and i try v hard to not compare myself to others but when i see people getting so many notes i can’t help comparing myself and it’s 👁👄👁 somewhat soul crushing

i’m gonna pop this response under a read more, because she be LONG but it also tackles some getting-started tips that folks have been asking me for following vacant mirrors’ wonderful reception!!!

so this is sort of a hard question — because while notes are sometimes a good gauge about the reception of a fic or piece of work, they’re also finicky and not as transparent nor straightforward as they seem.

you could draw the next mona lisa and it could sit at 23 notes for two weeks until a larger-than-you fandom blog reblogs your work, and boom! you’re amassing thousands of notes a day. exposure is difficult when you’re smaller, so keep that in mind.

as someone who has been writing on tumblr for 5+ years now (for a million fandoms), i’ve been lucky enough to grow a pretty hunky following (i love you, ya big ol’ hunks) so posts of mine will usually have a good amount of likes no matter the content — you can attribute that to my followers and my relationship with said followers/readers. it’s grown over time!

when you’re a 300 follower blog, see posts by a 14k blog get fawned over, it can be daunting. tumblr’s lack of a transparent follower/following system (like twitter) can add to the wonder of “is it me, is my work just bad?” when in reality it’s all because of a blog’s preexisting conditions prior to publishing content.

the trick is beginning to understand that some blogs have a leg up when they begin publishing content — maybe they’ve been around longer, maybe they’ve had a certain piece go viral, maybe they’re talented at promoting their work! maybe they’re just incredibly talented. 

pay attention to that, and don’t be afraid to take notes on their approach.

(by no means does this mean carbon copy what they do. i’ve had folks copy and paste my style down to the typeface and layout i was using for my gif headers. people notice.)

at the end of the day, we can all tell stories, but those who read them are incredibly important in the cycle of creation. love your readers and your followers.

when i was a smaller blog and i’d just begun writing, the notes were always a tricky subject — i found that when i focused on them, i would get pretty disheartened. the truth of it is that when you’re posting, how you’re posting, and the sort of content your making is usually dependant on how your work is going to be interacted with. then, add on the additional factor of who’s following you and how they’ll share the story.

i think consistency and finding your own voice are the two big tricks. is going to get you to the point where you don’t feel like you need to worry about the notes and instead focus on the reception/interaction with your work.

but, all this being said, remember who you’re writing for. if you’re writing for the notes, that’s your prerogative — you may find you’re more likely to crash that way. writing for yourself and seeing yourself grow is usually the best frame of mind to be in, i find. take that daydream and write it out, baby!

(also, sidenote: don’t let followers boss you about. there will be those people who do not understand boundaries with creators they like. people are weird, trust me. don’t be afraid to set those aforementioned boundaries hard and fast. rule pages are important! when people break those rules, call ‘em right out.)

i hope this helps? and makes sense?

honestly the baby was screaming at me for 90% of this because that’s what she does at this age like jESUIS little lady do u even CHILL ever

[prouvaireafterdark]

A Father Like That

Walt Sanders comes home to find his son's boyfriend covered in bruises.

For obvious reasons, this one’s a lot heavier than the fluffy double drabble I posted earlier today about Michael being adopted by Sanders, but I hope you like it!

Also on AO3

***

Muffled cries greet Walt’s ears when he stumbles home, dead tired from a long day at the auto shop. The sound wakes him up immediately, his whole body on high alert until he spots Michael on the couch, Alex’s face buried in his shirt as he struggles to control his sobs.

“What happened?” Walt barks immediately.

Alex flinches away from Michael like he’s been burned, black makeup smudged around his wide, terrified eyes. It’s then that Walt notices the welt beginning to bloom on Alex’s cheek and what looks like fingerprints covering the side of his neck. Michael’s eyes are wet too, so much hurt shining through them that Walt feels a heady mix of rage and empathy twist in his gut. He takes a steadying breath and pockets his keys, closing the front door behind him as he thinks about what he should do.

First thing’s first, they need to put some ice on that shiner.

“Michael,” he says, voice gruff. “Should be some peas in the freezer. Why don’t you go wrap ‘em in a dish towel and bring ‘em in here?”

Michael opens his mouth to argue, but Walt cuts him off.

“He’ll be here when you get back,” Walt promises. “Go on.”

Michael nods reluctantly, and says, “I’ll be right back,” as he leans forward to press his lips to Alex’s temple. He gets up off the couch when he pulls away and heads toward the kitchen.

Alex is shaking where he sits, hunched in on himself as if bracing for another blow. It makes Walt furious to see such a sweet kid so upset, but he suppresses his anger as best he can—he doesn’t want Alex to think he’s angry with him.

Walt grabs the green flannel blanket from the back of his recliner. He takes a step toward Alex, but the kid freezes, eyeing him warily.

“Easy, kid,” he says, offering him the blanket. “Not gonna hurt you.”

Alex accepts the blanket slowly and wraps it tightly around his own shoulders. Walt takes a seat across from him in his recliner and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

“What happened, son?” he asks as soft as he can manage.

Alex looks away and doesn’t say anything, his bottom lip trembling between his teeth, but it’s all the answer Walt really needs. He’s heard enough from Michael about Alex’s piece of shit father to make an educated guess.

Michael rushes into the living room a moment later, armed with a hand towel and a bag of frozen peas.

“Make sure the bag’s not touching his face,” Walt reminds him, and it’s a testament to how shaken Michael is that he doesn’t sass him about it.

Michael wraps the bag up and gingerly holds it up to Alex’s face. Alex hisses at the contact and Michael whispers a string of apologies. Alex takes the bag from him and holds it up to his own face, but he lets Michael draw him flush against his side with an arm around his shoulders.

Michael relaxes a little with Alex at his side, but Walt knows his boy—he can see how scared and frayed at the edges he is right now, and Walt needs to know what happened.

“You gonna be okay by yourself a minute, Alex?” Walt asks eventually.

“Dad,” Michael protests, sounding a little raw, like the very idea of leaving Alex alone right now is too much to contemplate.

“It’s okay,” Alex tells him, and Walt can tell the words take effort to get out. “I’ll be fine.”

Michael doesn’t look like he buys that.

“Come on, kid,” he says as he stands. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Walt is leaning against the counter when Michael joins him a few minutes later, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“What happened?” Walt asks.

“It’s my fault,” he says, a tremor in his voice as he rakes his fingers through his curls. “His dad found a note I wrote to him in class the other day and he just lost it and it’s—it’s all my fault.”

Walt’s heart breaks along with Michael’s voice. He pulls him into a one-armed hug, lets Michael bury his sobs in his shoulder when his tears start to fall.

“None of this is on you, you got that?” Walt whispers fiercely into his ear. “None of it.”

Michael just cries harder, his hands coming up to grip Walt’s jacket.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he tries to soothe him. He’s never been great at this emotion stuff, but he made a promise a long time ago to look out for this kid and damn him if he isn’t going to honor it. He owes Miss Nora that and a hell of a lot more.

As Michael’s cries begin to subside, Walt pulls back to look at him, wiping his tears with grease-stained fingers, hands on either side of his face.

“I’m gonna say something and I want you to listen good, you hear?”

Michael sniffles and nods.

“That boy’s a good kid,” Walt tells him, “and there ain’t a goddamn thing wrong with you for loving him. With a father like that—if it wasn’t your note, it would’ve been something else. None of this is your fault, you understand?”

A few more tears slip down Michael’s cheeks, but he nods.

“Good,” Walt sighs.

Michael throws his arms around Walt’s shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug. Walt lets him hang on as long as he needs.

“Thank you,” Michael mumbles against his collar a minute later.

“For what?”

Michael pulls back to look at him. His eyes are still wet, but he looks better than he did a minute ago.

“For not being a father like that.”

Emotion wells up inside him. “Aw, hell, kid,” Walt says, unsure how to really respond.

Michael smiles at him like he understands. He sniffles again and steps out of the hug.

“Can I go now?” he asks, wiping at his eyes.

“Yeah, go on,” Walt nods.

He waits until Michael is out of sight before he picks up his landline and dials the sheriff’s office.

When he hangs up, he walks back into the living room.

“I just called the sheriff’s office,” Walt announces when he enters the room. “Someone will be here to take your statement in a few minutes.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and panicked. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m breaking the law if I don’t, kid,” Walt explains.

“Fuck,” Alex whispers to himself, lowering the bag of peas from his face. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“No, he’s not,” Michael says adamantly. “I won’t let him touch you again, Alex.”

“Michael,” Walt warns when he notices the old cup of water on the coffee table start to tremble.

Michael turns to see Walt’s patented You Better Calm Down Before You Start Making Shit Levitate look. He turns a little sheepish and nods.

“My dad is friends with the sheriff,” Alex continues, oblivious. “He has resources. He’s just gonna make this disappear.”

“We’ll see about that,” Walt says, eyeing the dark bruises on Alex’s throat. He’s never had a lot of faith in the system, but this case of abuse is as cut and dry as they come. At the very least, it should buy Alex enough time to turn 18 without his dad making his life a living hell.

Michelle Valenti knocks on his door right on time. Walt steps outside for a cigarette or three while she takes Alex and Michael’s statements.

She joins him on the steps when she’s finished to get his version of the story. He tells her everything he knows.

“Is Alex okay staying here tonight?” she asks after she’s filled out her form. “I don’t mind taking him to my house if you’re not comfortable with that, but I think he’ll be happier with Michael nearby.”

Walt sizes her up before he says, “Kid says your husband and his dad are pretty close.”

She bristles at that, eyes narrowing in offense. “I hope you’re not implying that I would bury an accusation of child abuse because of my husband’s alleged relationship with the perpetrator.”

“‘Course not,” he says, taking a drag from his cigarette. “That’d be a serious case of police misconduct, wouldn’t it.”

“It would,” she agrees.

They stare at each other a minute. Walt decides he believes her.

“Glad we understand each other then,” Walt says, flicking the ash building at the tip of his cigarette off the side of the stairs before he adds, “And Alex can stay as long as he wants.”

“Okay,” she nods. “If he needs anything, just let me know.”

“Will do.”

Her tail lights have long since disappeared down the dirt road leading to his single wide by the time he pulls himself out of his seat and goes back inside.

He finds Michael fast asleep with his head on Alex’s lap. Alex looks up at him when he enters, his fingers pausing in Michael’s hair.

“You want something to drink?” Walt asks him as he takes his boots off by the door.

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” he answers.

“You sure?” he asks, doubtful. The boy’s gotta be dehydrated. “It’s no trouble.”

Alex thinks on it a moment.

“I’ll take some water, please.”

Walt nods and heads for the kitchen, filling a glass with tap water for Alex and grabbing a beer from the fridge for himself.

He hands the water to Alex and then collapses in his recliner, taking a long pull from his beer. It’s ice cold and exactly what he fucking needs right now.

“He won’t just let me go, you know,” Alex says quietly a moment later. Walt doesn’t need to ask who he means.

“I ain’t afraid of your daddy, son,” Walt says, taking another deep drink.

“You should be,” Alex says, deadly serious as he watches his own thumb run along the rim of his glass.

Walt sighs. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

Alex looks up at him then, eyes searching.

“Why are you helping me?” Alex asks at last. “Why are you being so nice?”

Walt sighs. He tips his beer back and drains the rest of it before he leans forward to answer him.

“Because you are that boy’s entire world,” he says, pointing at Michael asleep in Alex’s lap. “And he’s mine.”

He watches Alex’s lips part as those words sink in, watches him swallow down his emotions a second later.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Alex says.

“No need,” Walt brushes him off. He stands up, empty bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. “Just make sure he gets to bed, alright? That couch is a lumpy piece of shit and he’ll bitch about it all morning if you don’t.”

That makes Alex laugh, soft and genuine. “I will.”

“Night then,” Walt says, and walks off down the hall in search of his own bedroom without waiting to hear a reply.

He collapses onto his bed when he gets there, feeling the weight of the day like a physical thing. He has no clue how long he’ll be able to support three people on his meager salary or what Jesse Manes will do when he finds out they’ve filed a police report against him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Tonight, he can at least take solace in the fact that he’s somehow managed to raise a smart, compassionate boy who loves and is loved equally and without restraint. If he can pull that off, anything is possible.

[lokisasylum]

Check In Tag!

Tagged by : @parkandblues (thanks, hun  🦋)

1. Why did you choose your url?

“lokisasylum”... I think i’ve explained this a lot, but “Loki” is a nickname I was given since my school days because I was a hardcore trickster & would get away with anything and everything. I also recall being VERY persuasive when caught until I got off the hook. While “Asylum” comes from an album by Disturbed (one of the bests I own).

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them name them and why you have them?

Yep, @arsenicbutterfly which is like an aesthethic/anime/cyberpunk/steampunk/grunge blog, and I also have @lokirasengan-fc which I originally created with the intention of moving all my fanart/artwork (also promote my Society6 & Redbubble shops) to in order to separate my main blog for BTS news/post and that one for artwork but none of my mutuals really followed me on it so its basically a dead blog >_>

3. How long have you’ve been on tumblr?

I think since 2010 which is the same year the (Disturbed) “Asylum” album came out.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

I don’t know, never really thought about it.

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Hmm... I remember 2009-2010 to be a very chaotic years.

- the Death Note fandom went up in flames due to the MILLIONS of cases of cyber bullying (some ending in s**cide). I remember being part of this RP group within the fandom that I ended up quitting when I got admitted into Graduate School and because 2 of the oldest members ended up being actual PSYCHOS. (Which is why I also quitted roleplaying)

- Deviantart was rumored to either be shutting down or heading into a worse fate since they started censoring Mature Art/Literature/Fanfics (I remember all the artists who had their 20something chaptered fics and comics OBLITERATED off the site without a reason). So many people left DA for other blogs and I remember thinking the same, that I needed to migrate elsewhere. I tried 2 new social medias that eventually disappeared with less than a year of existence and then there was tumblr with had apparently been created for that very purpose (as a refuge for artists & people in general who were disappointed or got screwed over by the system). Which is funny because tumblr ended up the same way...

I still kept both my DA accounts active and I still post ALL of my artwork/photography there.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

I usually changed my icon frequently, but this recent/current icon is special to me, because it was made as a tattoo design for my Jikook Vampire fic (Forever, You Said) of a butterfly trapped between a Full Moon/New Moon. Its a matching tattoo between jikook (Jimin’s is a yellow butterfly inside a new moon, while JK’s is a blue butterfly inside a full moon). Meant to symbolize how both existed in the same timeline separated by two worlds with Jimin being a vampire and Jungkook being human, but their lives got intertwined since their first meeting.   

7. Why did you choose your header?

[I legit had to go back and check what my header was ‘cause i forgot]

Because I mean... Its Park Motherfucking Jimin.

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Like... this month? I think its the post about BTS as Flower Spirits from the HYBE museum.

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Few but I love them (same)

10. How many followers do you have?

635... damn, when did that happened?? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

11. How many people do you follow?

Like 14ish? Most of them were fanartists I really admired, but sadly most of them aren’t active or left for Twitter cause people kept coming to tumblr to steal their art and post it on twitter/instagram. So they moved to twitter in order to have some “control” over their works, but now people steal their art from Twitter and come to post it on Tumblr 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

And this is why I still post most of my art on Deviantart.

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I... I dunno, have I? Oo

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

24hrs/7 days a week, I never really log out of tumblr. So I just wake up, eat breakfast/lunch (whatever’s available at 11am), do chores around the house, make sure my fam’s healthy, fed and comfy before I jump back into tumblr where I kill off most of the day and night. If I’m not here I’m on deviantart or Ao3.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

I usually avoid going to other blogs to argue per se because most of these blogs that shitpost for the sake of creating conflict are very young and very ignorant. They never see reason/logic even when you slap ‘em across the face with receipts. So I don’t bother.

HOWEVER, ain’t afraid to calling people out through my own posts from time to time without the need to name names. If it fits, it ships and if you offended that’s a YOU problem.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

I avoid them as much as possible. I’m like Taehyung on that note, I’m the type of person that if you try to force me to do something and I see no benefit (for me) in it? I won’t do it.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes, they’re fun and break the monotony.

17. Do you like ask games?

I do... but no one ever interacts with me for them 🙃

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Eehh.. maybe @utopiajeon , @debrenner , @aikimei

19. Do I have a crush on a mutual?

I mean I love them and think they’re awesome people, but I also think of them as the children I don’t plan on having in the future. LOL

20. Tags?

@utopiajeon @doctorcerberus  @i-like-plain-rice @corkytheguar   anyone who wants to do it!🌸

[rpsocsandcanonohmy]

A Fighting Chance

Note: This is part of an ongoing story that can be read on AO3 here. Reading previous installments is reccomended for context purposes but is not required. Posted here for Whumptober 2021 @whumptober-archive

Day 6: Bruises

-------- The next day, Lori was tasked with helping Abilene around the house. Despite the size of the house and how many people trekked through it on any given day, very little of the work centered around cleaning. No, today, Lori was going to be testing her patience with cooking and food prep.

Lori knew how to cook. In theory. She knew how to use an oven (electric, gas, and the occasional wood-burner). She knew how to heat up something in a pan or a pot. She could even make a few things from scratch, assuming she had the ingredients handy, mostly eggs and pasta.

Food prepping for a ranch was a much different story.

There was no experimenting to see if the temperature dial was accurate. There was no obsessively checking the clock in lieu of a timer. There was no double-checking the instructions written on the box. 

Nope. Abby’s kitchen was run with fresh ingredients that were either being prepped for a later meal or being used in a current one. Abby had (semi-correctly) assumed Lori didn’t have much experience with cooking like this and just put her in charge of cutting vegetables or stirring sauces. Technically she was also a Taste Tester but that seemed more like an honorary title than a useful role.

She was chopping some apples under Abby’s not-so-subtle watch when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she said, leaving Lori to her chopping. A few moments later, she heard giggling and the sound of loud footsteps coming near the kitchn. “Oh, Cordi’ll be so happy to see you! It’s been ages… Oh, Lori! Hoyt, this is Lori. She’s one of Stella’s friends from school; her dad’s out of town so she’s staying with us for a while.”

Lori smiled softly and waved. “Hi….”

“Howdy.”

Abby snorted and gently pet Lori’s back. “I’m gonna go check on Bonham and Liam. Will you two be alright alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

She turned back to her chopping. Hoyt came around the counter and grabbed a few pears to chop with her.

“So,” he started. “What happened?”

“Pardon?”

Hoyt chuckled. “You’re at home for the day on a school day, you’re working in the kitchen instead of being sick in bed, and I noticed that bandage. Something happened.”

Well. That was her caught. Lori shrugged, clearing away some apple chunks to make room for the next one. “I got into a fight. Some girl was being a bitch to Stella and August so I broke her nose.” There was no point in lying; it’d probably just come out later anyway.

“I can respect that,” Hoyt said. “Sounds like the kind of stuff I used to get into back in those days.”

Lori nodded, focusing on her chopping.

“You’re a good friend. Stella’s lucky she found you.”

She liked the way he said that, like she wasn’t some lucky charity case that got picked up out of pity. That didn’t make it any (potentially) less true, but still. Lori wondered if he had his own experience in a situation like that.

-----------

Lunch was miraculously uneventful. Hoyt didn't even ask her about why Liam was being careful around her, course he was likely too busy telling wild stories about whatever mess he’d gotten involved in while he was away. She was just glad not to be the topic of conversation at a meal for once.

She felt her phone vibrating in her pocket while she was putting away the last of the dishes. Checking to make sure no one was paying attention to her, Lori ducked into the next room and pulled out her phone. The text was from an unknown number, but she knew who it was. Only one person would text her out of the blue like this without an introduction.

[Text from: Unknown]: Hey boo. You still in Austin? There’s a tourney starting next week and I’d love to put your name in the ring. Withdrew your entry fee from my bank account today xo

[Text to: Unknown]: Hey. Yeah, I am. I’m not sure if I can compete though; I’m under a little surveillance atm

[Text from: Unknown]: When has that ever stopped you before lol xo

[Text to: Unknown]: It’s different

[Text from: Unknown]: Come onnnnnnn

[Text from: Unknown]: It’s a massive payout. Big city, big names, big tournament. It’s all monsters right now though. They’ll flip if they get a hunter in. Massive bucks sweetie 

[Text to: Unknown]: There’s always a massive payout

[Text from: Unknown]: Not like this. We’re talking almost 5 digits if you make it to the top

Okay, that was impressive. It would definitely come in handy when she met up with Dad again. They would definitely need the cash even if she didn’t have to pay bail this time.

[Text to: Unknown]: You know me so well

[Text from: Unknown]: Is that a yes?

[Text to: Unknown]: Duh

[Text to: Unknown]: Just get me the time and place

[Text from: Unknown]: I knew I could count on you xo

[Text from: Unknown]: I’ll get you the deets. Meet me in the locker room and we’ll discuss my cut

She wanted to respond but the number was blocked. Of course it was. That was how he operated. She’d never get used to that. He’d get her the address later, probably through email, and they’d just go from there. Like they always did.

All Lori had to do now was figure out how to sneak out….

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

One day, Lori was going to suggest the Walkers invest in a security system that wasn’t accessible through a smart device. She’d have to figure out how to bring that up without mentioning she’d been able to bypass the alarms on Cordell’s phone with relative ease first though.

Regardless, she was out and headed for her destination. Why are these things always held in the most out of the way place possible? she thought as she entered the abandoned warehouse. She worked her way through the crowd, holding her duffle bag with her gear close to her chest, and headed for the locker room area. Once she was there, she got dressed and checked her first aid supply while she waited

“I was afraid you might back out,” came the all too familiar voice.

“Like I’d ever squelch on a deal with you,” Lori replied with a grin. She turned around and there he was, standing uncomfortably close as usual. “How’s the crowd looking?”

Darian grinned. “Very good turnout. I worked the room a bit, lot of people looking forward to seeing you in the cage. And, get this, they put you against a Were for your first fight!”

Of course they did. Hunter v. Monster fights drew a crowd as it was. Pitting a Hunter against their Thing? Pure gold. “Do you know anything about them?”

He shrugged. “Just that he’s a small thing with a big temper. It’s not his first rodeo but he’s not as well known as you. A lot of people are betting on you to win.”

“I take it you tossed your hat into that ring too?”

Darian smirked. “Always. Don’t worry, you’ll get your cut of that once you get to the top.”

Classic Darian, working all the possible angles. He was a smart guy, for a shapeshifter. She was about to respond when the fighting bell rang and her name was called over the loudspeakers.

“Showtime, babygirl. Make me proud!” Darian waved her off as she headed for the arena.

Lori took a deep breath and her mind cleared as she entered the cage. The crowd roared and she let it all wash over her. The sounds, the lights, the smells, everything. This was it. In here, she wasn’t a pitiable soul taken in by a friend. She wasn’t a reminder of her mother. She wasn’t a forgotten soul in the wasteland of The System. Here, she was Lori fucking Graves, one of the best fighters in the ring and the youngest hunter in the system. She was a badass, an icon, the love-to-hate-em fave. And she owned it.

The bell rang and the fight was on. Werewolves were tricky because of their claws and teeth, especially when she didn’t have a weapon of her own. But she’d been in worse situations before. A swift kick to the nuts took him to his knees and gave her the chance to land a few solid punches to his face before he got back up. A part of her couldn’t wait to see the bruises later. The larger part of her was regretting she couldn't run away faster when he lifted her above his head and threw her at the chain-link wall. That was going to smart later. But she could handle it.

Punch, kick, jab, punch, dodge, swerve, punchkickjabdodgepunchkickswerve and on it and on it went. Once she got into a rhythm, she could work off muscle memory and fall into a state of near zen. This is why she loved the fights. This is why she’d never walk away. This is why the payout was always worth it. This is why working around the bruises and scrapes would always be worth it, no matter who she was with.

It felt glorious. 

Her opponent was tiring out and she took advantage of that to elbow him in the face and knock him to the ground with a kick to the shin. She pinned him down and spit in his face while the ref counted her. 

She won.

She was bloody and bruising and she was definitely sleeping in tomorrow. 

But she won.

“Excellent work, darling.” Darian smiled proudly and gently clapped her on the shoulder as she stepped out the ring. “Payout for tonight is $915. Well, minus my cut, of course….” He handed Lori the cash and she stuffed it in her bag.

“Thanks. When’s the next one?”

“They’re gonna finish out the first round over the next couple days. I’ll text you the morning of so you have time to figure out your excuses.”

Lori shouldered her duffle bag and made her way to the back exit. “Alright. I’ll see you then.” 

It was a long walk back home, but the bills she counted later were more than worth it. She just had to figure out how she was going to hide the evidence from the rest of the house…..

[wonderful-writer]

13 - Wartime

Summary: The camp prepares to make a trip to the ocean, but the grounder army puts a stop in their plans, forcing them back to camp to fight a war.

Word Count: 2.94k

Based Off: 01x13, “We Are Grounders, Part Two”

Everyone outside of the dropship prepared to leave while Clarke cauterized Raven’s wound and Finn held her hand. 

“That should stop the external bleeding.” She put the knife in a basin and Finn started talking.

“I don’t understand, how did Murphy get a gun?” He asked.

“Long story,” Bellamy said. 

“We got lucky,” Raven moaned. “If Murphy hit the fuel tank instead of me, we’d all be dead.”

“Wait, there’s rocket fuel down there?” Clarke asked the brunette. “Enough to build a bomb?”

“Enough to build 100 bombs.” Raven replied. “If we had any gunpowder left.” 

“Let’s get back to the reapers.” Bellamy lifted Lincoln’s book to show a sketch of one. “Maybe they’ll help us.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” You asked. 

“Not this enemy.” Clarke said. “We saw them. Trust me, it’s not an option.”

“There’s no time for this.” Finn chimed in. “Can she walk or not?”

“No.” Clarke responded. “We have to carry her.”

“The hell you will.” Raven tried to sit up. “I’m good to go.” Her attempts at sitting up were feeble, and she put herself in more pain trying to do so.

“Hey,” Clarke got her attention. “Listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If, by some miracle, there’s no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?”

Raven nodded and laid back down on the table while Finn went to get the stretcher to put her on. 

“Can’t run away fast enough, huh? That’s brave, real brave.” Bellamy commented in a snide tone.

Finn turned at his comment and walked back over to the man. “Dying in a fight you can’t win isn’t brave, Bellamy. It’s stupid.”

“Spoken like every coward who’s ever run from a fight.” Bellamy walked closer to Finn as he spoke, getting dangerously close. The tension in the room was high due to their verbal fight, and you could feel that this was going to escalate quickly.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You spoke up from beside Raven. “You two need to stop. We have to go.”

“If they follow, it’s a 120 mile walk to the ocean.” Bellamy informed you. 

“Like I said,” You moved closer to Bellamy. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take to make sure my people don’t die.”

“Look, we’re wasting time.” Finn interrupted. “If he wants to stay, he can stay.” 

“No, he can’t,” Clarke replied, but Finn was already out of the dropship. She turned and walked up to Bellamy to try and get him to come along.

“We can’t do this without you, Bellamy.” She told him.

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” He replied angrily and with a steeled expression, keeping his gaze looking over her shoulder.

“I want you to say that you’re with us.” She said.

“Those kids out there,” You stepped in to help persuade him. “They listen to you, Bellamy.” 

“They’re lining up to go. They clearly listen to you more.” He countered. 

“We gave them an easy choice.” Clarke said. “But 5 minutes ago they were willing to fight and die for you. You inspire them.”

He looked up at the doors, and then to you without saying a word. “I’m afraid we’re gonna need that again before this day is through.”

She turned and walked out of the ship, while you took her spot in front of Bellamy and out a reassuring hand on his arm. “Come with us, Bellamy. You’re one of us, and like it or not, we need you.”

Not long after, everyone was ready to leave camp. The gunners were leading the walk to protect against any attacks, while the others stayed behind them and carried what they could. You and Clarke waited until everyone else was out of the camp to make your way to Bellamy, who was still looking at the ship. 

“You did good here, Bellamy.” Clarke assured.

“18 dead.” He said.

“And 82 alive.” You countered. “You did good.”

He nodded and tossed a bucket of water onto the fire, throwing it to the ground and walking away with you and Clarke. 

You’d walked a fair bit, keeping your hand on your sword’s hilt in case there was someone you needed to fight. It wasn’t very long until the group stopped moving, and from where you, Bellamy and Clarke were, you couldn’t see what was going on. It was then that you heard a loud thump and Jasper scream out that the grounders attacked did everyone rush to get back to camp.

You and Bellamy directed everyone inside the walls of camp and everyone moved to their own stations or foxholes, prepping hastily for the battle. You helped to close the door and unsheathed your sword while Bellamy was at the watchtower. 

“Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive.” Clarke said, directing her sentence to Finn.

“If it’s just scouts then we can fight our way out.” Octavia chimed in. “That’s what Lincoln would do.”

“We’re done doing what that grounder would do.” Bellamy jumped down from his post. “We tried it and now Drew’s dead. Do you wanna be next?”

“That grounder saved our lives.” Finn defended. “I agree with Octavia. For all we know there’s one scout out there.”

“Yeah, a scout with insanely good aim.” Jasper said. 

“Clarke, Y/n, we can still do this.” Octavia pleaded. 

“Looking at you guys, what’s it gonna be?” Bellamy asked you. “Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?”

You took a mental step back and assessed the situation. If you agreed with Octavia and fought your way to the ocean, you might not make it out alive. The grounders would surround you and you’d be in their territory, vulnerable to a major loss. If you stayed in camp and tried to do what you could to fight, you’d have a better chance of surviving and you’d likely lose less people to the grounders. 

You looked at Clarke and voiced your opinion as she looked out into the woods before jumping back down. “I say we’re staying. If we use everything we’ve got and fight like hell, we could actually make it out alive.”

“Clarke,” Finn grabbed the blonde’s arm. “If we’re still here when Tristan gets here-”

“Lincoln said ‘scouts’. More than one. He told us to get home before the scouts arrived. Finn, they’re already here.” She turned to Bellamy. “Looks like you’ve got your fight.”

“Okay then.” He spoke loudly to address the other campers. “This is what we’ve been preparing for. Kill them before they kill us.”

“Gunners, to your posts!” You shouted beside him. “Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on, the gate stays closed.”

You watched everyone move into position as Octavia did, too, but Bellamy caught her arm, telling her she wasn’t a gunner and she defended herself before moving to the exit to help with the battle. 

“So, how the hell do we do this?” Clarke asked. You all moved into the dropship to explain the plan and information you had to her, Finn, and Raven.

“We’ve got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take.” Bellamy said. “Roughly 500 rounds of ammo.”

“While you two were gone, we made some improvements.” You took over. “Thanks to Raven, the gully is mined.” 

“Partially mined.” Raven corrected painfully. “Thanks to Murphy.”

“Still, it’s the main route in. If the grounders use it, we’ll know.” Bellamy told the room. 

“She also made grenades.” You picked one up to show Clarke and Finn.

“There’s not many,” Clarke commented.

“Again. Thank you, Murphy.” Raven said sarcastically. 

“We’ll make them count. If the grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back.” Bellamy pointed to the scale model of the front gate on the table. 

“And then?” Clarke asked worriedly.

“Then, we close the door and pray.” Raven said. 

“And pray what? That the ship keeps them out?” She asked. “Because it won’t.”

“Then let’s not let them get past the front gate.” You said, looking at the scale model and gripping your jacket sleeve in hopes to relieve some stress. 

“All foxholes, listen up.” Bellamy spoke into the radio. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That’s the plan.”

“That’s always your plan.” Finn said. “Just like the bomb at the bridge.”

“Damn right. You got a better idea?” 

“I think I do.” You spoke up. “Raven, you said there’s fuel in those rockets, right? Enough to build 100 bombs.”

“I also said we’ve got no gunpowder left.” She told you. 

“I don’t want to build a bomb.” You said. “I want to blast off.” 

“Draw them in close, fire the rockets. A ring of fire.” Clarke explained simply, smirking along with Raven. 

“Barbequed grounders. I like it.” Bellamy agreed.

“Will it work?” Finn asked Raven.

“The wiring is a mess down there, but yeah.” She turned to you and Bellamy. “If you give me enough time, I’ll cook ‘em real good.” 

You smirked at her and nodded, liking that you had an even better plan than what was formed before. Clarke and Finn went underneath the floor of the dropship to look for the ignition system while Raven sat near the floor entrance and worked on repairing the electrical board, while you and Bellamy headed out to prep for the impending and inevitable war.

It was nightfall when you heard the drums. You were by the fire, sharpening your own and other people’s blades in case it came time to use them. You looked to Bellamy, who seemed to have the same idea as you, and ran to the main foxhole. 

“Where’s Octavia?” He asked Miller.

“No idea. She left 5 minutes ago, didn’t say where to.” He responded. “She thinks she’s a damn samurai.”

“Do you see anything?” You asked, sword drawn.

“No.” Monroe replied frustratedly. “What the hell are they waiting for?”

“The longer they wait, the better. This is about buying time for Raven.” He told her.

“I see them! They’re moving!” Sterling’s voice cut through the air, slightly staticy. “I count 2, 3- no, wait, there’s more. I don’t know man, there’s too damn many of them!”

A gunshot rang through the air and Bellamy asked Miller who was on the radio. “Sterling, I think. South foxhole.”

More gunshots rang out as Bellamy pulled out his radio. “South foxhole, report now.”

“Yeah, yeah, We’re okay. They didn’t attack. It’s like shooting at ghosts.”

You kept your eyes on the terrain ahead of you, seeing grounders move across your field of vision. “There!” 

“I see them!” Monroe shouted, shooting at the grounders. Miller joined her and Bellamy shouted at them to stop.

“Reload, now.” He commanded, as they were both out of bullets. 

“Those were our last clips.” Miller told him.

“We should- we should fall back.” Monroe suggested, panicked.

“No.” Bellamy said. “If this position falls, they’ll walk right through the front door.”

You unsteadily readied your sword as Bellamy positioned himself to look through the scope of his gun. You kept your stance and listened to the radio, Jasper confirming that the land mines worked.

“Jasper, we need you in the dropship, now.” Clarke’s voice came through.

“Negative.” Bellamy responded. “We can’t give up the west woods.”

“The west woods are mined, Bellamy. The grounders just figured that out.” Clarke said. “Jasper, get in here.” 

“All gunners, listen up.” Jasper spoke. “The grounders are not attacking. They’re making us waste bullets. Don’t shoot when they’re running laterally.”

“Jasper’s right,” Bellamy confirmed. “Don’t fire until you’re sure it’s an attack. Repeat, do not fire until you are sure.”

Jasper then told Clarke that he was coming to help out, and you looked around worriedly. Something was feeling off to you. You didn’t know what it was, but your gut instincts were telling you to flee, to leave now and save yourself. But you knew to go against them, that you had to stay and fight. This was your battle, too. 

Then it came. The gunfire, the battlecry. Grounders were headed straight towards you. You swung your sword as they ran for you, Monroe falling back with Miller. You slashed one grounder's throat and spun as you did so, plunging your sword into another grounder’s chest. 

One of them attacked Bellamy and pushed him to the ground, Miller attempting to go after him, but failing when another grounder shoved his spear into Miller’s shoulder. Bellamy managed to fight the grounder, but failed when he was pushed to the ground again, the grounder’s hands tightening themselves around Bellamy’s neck. 

You were busy fighting one of the other grounders and couldn’t help, but once you had killed him, you saw Octavia shove her sword through the back of the grounder’s head and straight through his eye, saving her brother.

“Admit it, you want one.” She said, panting. Before she could help her brother up off the ground, an arrow fired from behind her and struck her in the leg, causing her to falter and fall, Bellamy catching her. 

“Miller! Fall back! Now!” He stood and grabbed Octavia by the arms to support her. “Can you walk?”

She stumbled and he put her arm over his shoulder. “O, hey. Hold on to me. Let me get you behind that wall.” He carried her bridal style and you followed behind, serving as cover for the siblings in case any grounders tried to attack them while they were vulnerable.

When you neared the gate, you heard screaming and metal clashing, causing Bellamy and you to skid to a halt. 

“What is that?” Octavia asked.

“I don’t know, but they’re distracted.” Her brother responded, placing her against a tree. “Let’s move.” 

“We’ll never make it.” Octavia panted. “Leave me. I’ll find another way.”

“No way in hell are we leaving you here.” You said. 

“Octavia!” Lincoln said from behind you as he broke through the trees. A small smile came to your lips as they hugged. 

“You did this?” Bellamy asked, nodding his head towards the reapers and grounders fighting one another.

“With Finn.” He told Bellamy. He looked down at the broken arrow in Octavia’s leg. “It’s deep.”

A grunt came from nearby and Lincoln spoke quickly. “I can help you, but you have to come with me now.” 

“Go.” Bellamy said. “Let him help you.”

“No way,” Said Octavia. “I have to see this through.”

“You can’t walk and we can’t get you to the dropship.” You intervened. 

“They’re right. This fight is over for you.” Lincoln told Octavia. 

“O. O, listen to me.” Bellamy said. “I told you my life ended the day you were born. The truth is, it didn’t start until then. So go with him. I need you to live. Besides, we’ve got this.”

You put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, letting go so she could hug Bellamy and say their own goodbyes before being carried away by Lincoln so she could remain safe. 

You both paused for a minute until the shouting began again, revealing that the grounders were advancing on the wall. You and Bellamy picked up the pace and ran to the entrance. Clarke and Finn spotted the both of you, screaming for you to run, which you did. Bellamy picked up a gun and attempted to shoot at Tristan, but it was out of ammo. 

You didn't make it very far from the entrance when four grounders closed in on you. You managed to take down the first one with relative ease, slicing his throat. One of the others attempted to bash your head in but you sliced his arm, causing him to fall with pain. You kicked him over forcefully and plunged your sword into his heart.

You spun around to face another grounder, thrusting yourself and your sword forward, stabbing him in the stomach. You watched the dropship door close, and you feared you were running out of time. You froze in your spot, but not for very long when the last grounder that had surrounded you shoved his dagger all the way into your right side, more towards your back. 

The grounder left you once you collapsed to your knees, attempting to tear the dropship down to nothing with the rest of the army. You knew the blast was coming soon, so you dragged yourself to the exit and attempted pulling yourself to your feet. You groaned in pain, coughing at the sting of the blade. ‘I’ve been here for what, a month? And I’ve already been stabbed twice.’

You stumbled to the path that led out to the main gate as the rumbling of fire and the heat touched your skin. You slowly walked as the energy further drained from your body, feeling blood drip down your skin. The knife moved and tore your flesh every time you made a movement, but you knew it was important that you got to the main gate. You needed to survive. You needed to live. 

You felt yourself getting lighter with every step, pushing through bushes and shrubbery. A sigh escaped your dry and pale lips as you saw the treeline, the wall. You reached out to stabilize yourself on it, but you fell to your knees instead, collapsing as darkness surrounded you. Your torso and head hit the ground with a thud, but no pain was felt when you hit the dirt. You just closed your eyes, feeling at peace. 

Taglist:  @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​ | @dummythiccwitch​ | @sireddobrev​ | @gxvrielle​ | @hurricane-abigail

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 31

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: After the rest of the staff is caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester. As the arrangement becomes more defined, you and Sam begin a sexual adventure with dangerous consequences.  

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts 1-39 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

“These are all my dirty secrets?” You look in trepidation at the folder on the table in front of you.

 It’s thicker than anticipated. 

“Everyone one of them.” Charlie is a perky, energetic redhead that’s the exact opposite of what you expected. Sam’s talked about her like she’s Sherlock Holmes, and to be honest you assumed she was a man. “Or least what I could dig up. I can confidently say that if I couldn’t find it, no one else will either.” 

Glancing at Sam you open the cover and scan over the top page. It’s a basic list of your personal details, where you’ve lived, who you’ve dated. 

“Is there anything we should be concerned about?” Sam asks. He slides his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 

Charlie hesitates, looking at Sam and then speaks to you. 

“Are you comfortable doing this with him here? I mean, it can get real weird real quick for both of you.” 

“I can leave if you want,”  Sam offers. 

“No.” You swallow the urge to take him up on the offer. “No secrets, right? This is my life.”

“Okay.” Charlie opens her laptop. “There was a polaroid of you in your underwear at a party in your senior year of high school. But we had it taken off Facebook and I was able to purchase the original.”

“It was on Facebook?” You’re both horrified and impressed. You had no idea “How did you even find it?”

“It’s what I do,” she chirps, already moving on. “You’re pretty boring compared to the people I usually investigate. No DUIs or cheating. But you did date a man named Jasper.”

“Oh Jesus.” You want to crawl under the table. Your time with Jasper wasn’t as much a traditional relationship as a hook-up that lasted a year. He never came close to what you and Sam enjoy together, it was all about sex. “I’m sorry.” You turn to Sam who’s throwing you a terrifying, forced smile. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, a hand slipping over your thigh and wedging between your legs. 

“Did you make a sex tape with him?” Charlie asks and you choke on your own spit. 

“No, I mean, I don’t think we ever…”

“Is there a chance he recorded you without your knowledge?”

“Maybe.” You search your memory. Everything from that time is hazy, the two of you drank a lot. “I mean, I don’t know. You think he recorded me?”

“I think he has something.” Charlie’s attention switches to Sam and she morphs into all-business mode. “He was interested in why I was asking questions. When I made an initial offer for any videos or pictures he might have he acted like he had something. But I think he realized it was valuable and kicked me out of his apartment.”

“You offered the maximum?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, he didn’t go for it.”

“Double it and see what he does.”

“Got it.” She stops to make a note.

“He has a sex tape with me in it?” You’re not past this yet. You look to Sam who’s unreadable. “I had no idea. I mean I eventually realized he was a creep but I never thought he would do something like that. What if he posts it?”

“Don’t worry,” he nods, sliding a hand over your knee. “I’ll handle it.”

“Other than Jasper, you and Sam are actually the biggest potential issue. I read Cole’s report. It’s concerning despite your prior relationship. If the wrong person got a copy of his written complaint it would be damaging. I think you can expect the real story to revolve around the fact that Sam intervened when a mad man was shooting up the office. You can choose how you want to spin that. If you decide you want some heroic meet-cute to be the official story then I can erase any trace of your relationship before the shooting happened. If you want me to leave some crumbs confirming you were together prior, I can do that to. And if you want a lid on the whole thing, no problem.”

“People will care?” you ask. 

“Oh, for sure.” She chuckles, looking at you like you’re a moron. “Sam’s personal life has been a lockbox. You’re the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“Wonderful.” This would all be so much easier if he wasn’t so well off. If he hadn’t been quite as successful all these precautions could be avoided. 

“Just tell me what kind of story you want out there and I’ll start planting the seeds.” She grins at Sam with a warm familiarity. Few people interact with him this easily. There must be quite a back story. 

“We’ll talk about it,” Sam answers for you, shifting in his seat. “Anything else?”

“That’s all for her.”

“You have my background as well?”

“I do.” She pulls a thinner file from her bag and you look at him in surprise. 

“She did one on you too?”

“Charlie has been the keeper of my secrets for a decade. She makes sure any possible indiscretions stayed buried,” Sam explains. 

Charlie is looking between you and Sam, asking a silent question. 

“You can say whatever you need to in front of her.” Sam turns to you. “You can leave if you feel uncomfortable.” 

You find yourself suddenly nervous. Sam’s past is largely a mystery and you’re not sure if you want to know. Were there others before you? 

“The woman you had a financial arrangement with is not a problem. It’s Madison I’m concerned about.”

Financial arrangement? That piques your interest but the conversation moves on. 

“It’s been years. You don’t think she’s gotten past it?” Sam shifts beside you, betraying his discomfort for the entire situation. He’s rarely visibly distressed but there’s no covering this up. His reaction may be subtle but it’s there. 

“She still Googles you once a week.” Charlie turns her computer toward Sam. You don’t understand you’re looking at, but he seems to. Sam takes interest in something on the screen and you feel him stiffen beside you. “She’s living in Boston again?”

“She moved back last year,” Charlie confirms. 

“You didn’t tell me.” Sam’s tone shifts to his trademark disapproval but it doesn’t seem to phase the perky redhead.

“I update when I think there’s a concern. This wasn’t a red flag for me. She’s from Boston. Her father is sick. She got a good job at a tech firm. It looks to me like she came home to be near her family...or...”

“Or?” Sam asks. 

“Or she came back to be close to you. It’s hard to tell with her. Madison has always been a wild card. You know how to pick ‘em.” Her eyes dart to you, offering an apologetic grin. “Present company excluded.”  

You just sit there taking in these new tidbits of information. A trail of breadcrumbs that lead to the story that was Sam’s life before you. 

“Do you think she would try to hurt Sam?” you ask and two pairs of eyes look at each other before turning to you. “Or me?”

“She’s not that kind of crazy,” Charlie assures you. “But she would love to embarrass Sam. Make things hard for him. She’s still pissed he cut her off.” 

“I see.” You sit back as they continue talking details. You’ll have questions for him later but right now your mind is swirling. Your ex hook-up has a possible homemade sex tape of you doing God knows what, and Sam apparently hired a hooker.

“And what about Dean and my father?” Sam squeezes your knee, bringing you to attention. 

“What about them?” You lean forward with interest. 

“They’re hard to track.” Charlie closes her computer and sits back. There’s no documentation of this inquiry. Nothing to tie either of them to the wanted Winchesters. 

“That can’t surprise you.” Sam nods. “But you’re good.”

“Yes, I am.” She offers a little bow of her head. “I had to track the weird to find them.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“They like the crazy stuff, ghosts, and monsters. So I kept an eye out for any weird happenings. Some lady in New Jersey claimed a sewer monster stole her baby. And you’ll never guess who popped up in town at some shitty motel the next day.”

Taking out her phone she pulls up a photo and holds it out for you and Sam to see. It’s a grainy security camera shot of Dean with a baseball cap pulled over his face. 

“When was this?” Sam inquires. 

“Six weeks ago. Your brother is staying along the eastern seaboard. Investigating paranormal bullshit in Vermont, Maine, Connecticut. Occasionally he’ll pop up in the midwest, but for the most part, he’s staying close.” 

“To me.” Sam’s not asking, he already knows. 

“Yeah, that would be my guess. I did a sweep of your office buildings, homes and so on. I found a digital hole in your home security cameras. Someone created a backdoor into the system so they could have unfettered access.”

“He’s watching us?” Dean’s been on your mind ever since the encounter in the kitchen over a year ago. But now it seems your concerns were in fact warranted. 

“Maybe,” she continues. “It’s hard to tell with him. He might be watching. Maybe he’s visiting, editing the footage to cover his tracks. Or maybe it’s not Dean at all.”

“Who else would it be?” you ask, afraid of the answer. “FBI?”

“My father,” Sam sighs. 

“It’s a possibility.” Charlie shrugs. “Unfortunately it’s impossible to tell what they’re up to.”

“What’s your gut instinct?” Sam asks Charlie. 

“I think they’re keeping an eye on you...and her.” She looks you dead on. “If you want to know why your guess is as good as mine. They believe some insane stuff, Sam. End of the world, apocalypse wack-a-doo shit. They could just be trying to keep you safe. But there’s always the possibility of something else. Y/N was right to be concerned.”

“Perfect,” Sam laughs dryly, rolling his eyes. “This is the last thing I need right now.”

“I liaised with your new security guy.  He knows what’s going on with your family, Madison, the whole shebang. He’s working on Y/N’s apartment and your house to seal the leaks. I’ll schedule a meeting for the three of us when you get back to Boston.”

“Sounds good.” Sam stands as Charlie collects her things and you stay seated. “Thank you for everything. As always, you’re invaluable.” 

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” She laughs. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You too.” You wave her off, watching as Sam locks the door after her departure. He shoves a hand in his pocket, the two of you staring at each other in silence. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

“Oh, more than you wanna know.” Running a hand down your face you categorize the evening. Sex scandals, stalkers, fugitives from justice...where to start. “You paid for sex?”

“Technically, no.” Sam walks over to sit on the couch across the coffee table. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means I never fucked her.”

“Okay, but you hired a hooker?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t have sex with her?”

“No.” His jaws ticks. He doesn’t want to answer these questions. “She sucked my dick. She allowed me to do things to her, but I never fucked her. Would you like the details?”

“Jesus,” you sigh. “No. God...fuck. And the other woman, Madison, she was your girlfriend?” 

“No. She and I had an arrangement. The same as you and I had when this started. She worked for W & S. It only lasted a few months. She became attached, somewhat obsessive. She believed we were more than our arrangement and I put an end to it.” He stares at you, still as a statue. 

“Okay.” You hate the very idea of him with someone else. The thought of another woman makes you angry, but he’s being honest, and honesty is everything so you swallow the urge to take it out on him. “What are we going to do about your family?”

“I’ll give you the details as soon as I have them,” he offers. “We’ll have increased security.”

“Good.” Racking your brain you try to make sure you’ve covered everything. “Oh! Jasper, are you sure Charlie will be able to get that video...if there is one, I mean.” 

“She has her ways and I have money. Everyone has a price. We just need to find his.”

You’re both quiet again. Things feel unsettled, awkward for the first time in a long time. And you only know one way to reset this feeling. There are times when having Sam in complete control makes you feel the safest. 

“Sam,” you start, watching him sigh in response. He’s expecting more questions. 

“Yes?” he asks, looking at you expectantly. 

“I’d like you to spank me now.” This request makes your cheeks hot with anticipation. His face morphs from controlled irritation to pure lust, eyes narrow, a grin pulling at his mouth. “With your belt.”

“Take off your clothes and lay across my lap,” he instructs, already working at his buckle. “Get the gag. We can’t have you making too much noise.” 

[sepublic]

I have an hc partially inspired by your posts. But Emira share everything with Edric. Like if it’s something bad major bad, she won’t because if she cries, Edric will cry and feel bad on her behalf and she comforts him. And the Blights are on him for being too emotional. She can’t tell Amity cuz she’s the baby. But then one day Edric finds out and he’s like, “Em, you could have. I won’t fall apart. You’ve been my rock, I can be yours. You don’t have to be emotionally strong for both of us.”

           Well, THAT both breaks and makes my heart! I like this idea A LOT, and now that I’m thinking from it…

           …This does make me wonder if the main issue as to why Emira wants to be her own person, separate from Edric… Is because she feels like she has to take care of him AND Amity, so it requires her to adopt the persona of being the older, more mature sibling? And these Blight Kids were already forced to mature quickly as-is, so as a result Emira feels dissatisfied? Like maybe she feels bad for wanting to be away from Edric, but she’s afraid that he’s acting parasitically to them in their relationship, not providing enough for her and preventing Emira from being her own person…

           …When really, she just needs to open up about how she feels, and Edric will happily provide! He’ll let Emira be the immature one, let her have dumb, stupid fun while he looks out! And because Emira can be herself around Edric and not have to worry about being the more responsible twin, it basically solves her issue of feeling like she needs to be away from Edric to be her own person!

           …Or… That’s what Edric thinks will fix the issue. That he tries to get Emira to stay by being extra-helpful and caring, doing everything for her, giving it his all to treat his twin sister like royalty so she’ll stay… Anything for Emira to keep hanging out with him! But really this just makes him more toxicly dependent upon his sister, and regardless of whether or not Emira recognizes this, she still feels the need to leave! She’s gotta be her own person and even if she can relax around Edric now, Emira still needs to do some soul-searching of her own! Discover who she is, by herself!

           Perhaps in a parallel to Lilith and Eda, Edric will focus the issue and simplify it to just this one issue, namely Emira feeling like she has to take care of him; And focus on fixing that, just as Lilith focused on curing the curse… Without taking into account that this problem is just symptomatic of a larger one, that in general Emira doesn’t want to be coddled by Edric necessarily, she just wants to figure things out for herself and being deferred to won’t solve this! Just as Eda’s curse being cured won’t solve her issues with the Coven System, or her anger at Lilith for taking Luz hostage!

          Emira doesn’t want blind support from Edric, just as Amity didn’t want this from Boscha… She wants someone who can help her self-reflect and realize who she is! Emira doesn’t want to be like their parents, with one blindly supporting the other and enabling them… She’s not always self-aware but she definitely knows how awful their parents can be. Perhaps Edric will try to resort to finding new purpose, and (if my speculation on Mr. Blight is correct) find this by devoting himself to a loved one, either his sister, or another friend, in the hopes of not losing them… Maybe he’ll even become like King from Really Small Problems?

          This is all of course a worst-case scenario though, and my mind going wild with all possibilities. Hopefully this isn’t the case, and it’s not nearly as bad; That yeah there a few issues to work around, but otherwise Emira and Edric aren’t just going to leave one another drying, and they’ve still got access to other people to support them, like Amity, Luz… And hopefully the rest of Luz’s friends by extension! Because while it’s fun to speculate on Twin Angst, it’s ultimately with the end goal of the two becoming even closer and healthier than before!

[buckyreaderrecs]

It’s Been A Long Long Time

Summary: Bucky and Steve went to war. When they came back, you were gone. But, you know, maybe you're a lot like them, and will show up years later all not-dead and on-ice. 

Words: 3,405 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, F.R.I.D.A.Y., T'Challa, Tony Stark, Shuri Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower is still a thing, technically a song fic, angst, sad Bucky, Nat and Howard are mentioned but not in scenes, how shit are Hydra though, happy ending, she/her pronouns Warnings: references to canon-typical violence but no violent scenes, discussion of Hydra/Nazis

Note: This is written for @maarrvveell's challenge. My prompt was the song It's Been A Long Long Time (Harry James and Kitty Kallen version, 1945), but I also used the song I Concentrate On You (1940) in a couple scenes. Roz, I hope ya love it!

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas (not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) (the tumblr formally known as @darlingtholland - where did you go? what’s your URL now?!)

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol. 

It’s Been A Long Long Time

1942

The man has a German accent and that reassures you. Steve had said Erskine was European, but was it German? You can't remember, but either way, the man holding the clipboard has a strange kindness to his face. He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, small and pink.

"I just want to do my part," you tell him, answering why you had responded to the flyer posted around Brooklyn. "It's war, ya know? Everyone is doing something…"

Despite what he had done, you knew Steve would have never let you volunteer for this. However, Steve isn't here to stop you. He had let you cry on his shoulder for days following Bucky's departure. He had said you would at least have him. And then, he left too. So, fuck Steve Rogers.

Fuck Bucky Barnes and his parting kiss to the lips and promises of love letters in the mail.

Fuck Hitler and his psychopathy and war starting bullshit.

You were going to help, even if it meant like this. The boys could yell at you when it was all over.

…

2019, December

Bucky watches the flames lick up and around the journal. He times how long it takes to burn down to ash. Opening the fresh book in his lap, he begins by recording that time. Each journal begins like this. Bucky doesn't know why he does it. Although, his general preoccupation with the concept of time is a little easier to explain. Bucky Barnes is one of the few people on Earth that has a very personal and turbulent relationship with time. It does not pass for him like it does everyone else. It doesn't age him like everyone else. He isn't even sure it properly exists like everyone else does. It is only natural therefore, that Bucky thinks about time a lot. It is easy to get lost in the past.

Don't get him wrong though - Bucky does not want to return to anything behind him. He doesn't miss it. Not Hydra. Not Nazis. Not the Great Depression. There's only one thing that keeps pulling him in reverse.

You.

He dreams of you most nights. Sometimes they are heavenly trips into the best days he'd had with you. Sometimes they are hollow nightmares with teeth falling out and black blood. Sleep feels empty if you are not there. Sleep has been empty since the news had been delivered years and years ago.

After being rescued and then recruited into The Howling Commandoes, Bucky could see that Steve wasn't telling him everything. And there was so much to tell. "What is it, Stevie?" he asked, turning his empty shot glass upside down on the bar and looking at Steve. (Bucky kept accidentally looking down at Steve, forgetting his eyes were waaayyy up there.)

"It's… It's Y/N, Buck…"

Bucky felt his blood run cold. He thought the worst had happened. Steve had changed. He'd been tortured. The worst… You were meant to be safe at home. But you were too much like Steve.

When he was sure he was alone, Bucky cried and cried and cried until there was only an emptiness left in him. It made him a better soldier, he told himself.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice pulls Bucky from the memory of you. Something has been going on in the tower; people have been buzzing around all day, all hush hush. They avoid eye contact with him, but that's pretty standard. To get away from it all, he climbed to his secret little spot on the roof. Just enough room for a metal bin to burn things in, and an old office chair with a broken wheel that he found discarded in a hallway.

Bucky's surprised to learn that F.R.I.D.A.Y. could even find him here. He pulls his headphones from his ears, pausing Harry James and Kitty Kallen and sighing.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Sergeant Barnes, but this does qualify as an emergency," F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. Where the hell is her voice even coming from?

"Tell 'em I'm on my way," Bucky replies.

Bucky navigates his way to a room in which everyone knows what is happening. All eyes are on him as he enters the room. Without needing to overtly look around, Bucky clocks most of the Avengers as being present, as well as some other agents. He takes a seat in the chair clearly meant for him; Sam and Steve flank his sides. As he sits, most of the room empties. It's disconcerting at best.

For only a second, Bucky considers playing along. He's tired though. He needs to be alone.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice the saddest Steve has heard in a while.

"Ah, as you know.. Last week we sent scouts to recon the potential Hydra base… the one under Baltimore," Steve begins.

As soon as the word Hydra hits the air Bucky knows it means they found something. And something is never good. Possible items include files documenting the graphic nature of The Winter Soldier's breaking in, training, and treatment; evidence of the crimes committed by The Winter Soldier; or worse, video footage of any of the above.

"It definitely was Hydra. It was part of their science division. From the looks of what's there, they left in a hurry. Most of it is caved in. Not sure how that happened yet… There were no S.H.I.E.L.D. records of the place,"

"Get to the point, Steve," Bucky says, impatient. Hydra cells are everywhere; the ghosts of them pop up semi-regularly. Empty buildings with blood on the walls and stories to tell.

"They were studying Erskine… or, or the serum. Trying to replicate it…"

"We know that already,"

"Yeah. But… This place, they were close enough to… us, to New York, Brooklyn, to use the 'Captain America' story," Steve is starting to struggle. He uses air quotes for Captain America, disenfranchised. Whatever they found, Bucky thinks, it's bad. "They used it to… lure people… It's, it's where they experimented on people, Buck. But, ah, it's… It's where they worked out how to freeze people and keep them alive… They were preparing for-"

"Me… Working out how to freeze me?"

"Not you, exactly. There's no files on you. Just the Wint-" Steve tries but fails.

"It's the same thing, Steve. So… what? There were some files and some skeletons? What's-"

"They're still there," Steve interrupts, answering the question before Bucky can ask. "Three people still in cryo. Alive."

…

1944

"The resources have… been exhausted. We've searched everywhere, Sergeant. I'm afraid-"

"I got it. She's dead. Ain't coming back," Bucky interrupts Peggy before she can deliver what would be Bucky's final blow.

"Buck-"

"Don't. Don't say anything, Steve."

Steve thinks if he'd just stayed home, you'd probably be home too. He wonders if Bucky is thinking the same thing. "Everyone said you were gone and I found you," he offers, tries for logic.

"I wasn't missing for years. I didn't disappear into thin fuckin' air. You knew where I was… We have no idea where Y/N is. No idea when… when she… left or… was taken or-Christ! We don't know shit, Steve. 'Cept that she's gone."

Steve knows Bucky well enough to usher Peggy from the tent, leave his heartbroken best friend to scream into a pillow until he's taken by restless sleep in the gloaming. Until then, Bucky goes over it all again and again. He doesn't blame Peggy; she's spent so much time stealing manpower and resources from Stark and the government and whoever in an attempt to find you. He doesn't blame Steve; there's just no guarantee that if he had stayed in Brooklyn he would have been able to protect you.

Protect you.

Protect you from what?

There are a million and one scenarios in Bucky's head. Murderers. Nazis. Nightmares. All of them, nightmares. What happened to you? Where did you go?

…

2019, December

Bucky shakes his head. Something in him is putting the pieces together, informing his central nervous system to prepare for fight or flight. That something is deep down though, ignored. He crosses his arms over his chest and holds his breath.

"There are other cryo chambers… but they were damaged in the cave in, we figure. They're still trying to work out how they've been powered this long. There's all sorts of tech we've never seen. Tony's having a field day." Steve doesn't know he's rambling, getting side tracked.

"Wait. Stop. Go back. What do you mean lure people? What people?" Bucky asks, the questioning coming from that deep down something. He's trying to keep it buried, but it's bubbling, boiling.

Steve's eyes flick over to Sam, behind Bucky. It annoys Bucky, and the sharp intake of breath through his nose lets Steve know it.

Sam says, "Hydra, Buck. They told people they were like Stark… the first one, and Agent Carter… also the first one." Bucky swings his chair around. "They told people they were the good guys tryin' to make more Captain Americas… Regular people signed up."

Boiling. Bubbling.

Bucky can feel it rising. It's in his spine, climbing up the vertebra. It reaches the back of his neck, and goes cold. Prickly. Boiling. Hot. Now it's in his head and he can't get it out. He knows. The thought is right there, smack bang in the middle of his brain. He knows where you are.

He is up, the chair knocked over, before Sam and Steve can even begin to reach for him. Sam stays seated, knowing what usually spooks triggered soldiers. Steve stands, but stops when Bucky does. And, Bucky does stop himself from running, even though he wants to just fucking bolt. Instead, he's in the corner of the room, back to wall and head pounding. Steve is a couple steps away.

"We're transporting them now, to Wakanda. Shuri and Stark are our best bet at pulling them out alive," Steve says, hoping information will help. "We know who… who one of the men is. Nat is good at finding people…" When Bucky says nothing, does nothing, Steve continues. "And, ah, the other man is a John Doe… still seeing if…" There's no point. Steve gives up, drops to crouch in front of Bucky.

"It's her, Buck. It's Y/N�� Don't know what the odds of that are…" he whispers.

"When you said she was too much like Steve, didn't think you meant turns up decades later frozen," Sam risks. Both Bucky and Steve look up at him. He shrugs. "I know this is a lot, man," he says to Bucky. "But this is good. At the very least, it's closure. You know where she is,"

"I know where she is," Bucky repeats, his voice so low is barely audible. He looks at Steve, blue eyes glossed over and so, so hurt. "I know where she is, Steve."

…

1940

"It's not going to stop, Buck," you say, the dread in your stomach sticky.

"Darlin'…"

"No! Don't 'darling' me. It's not going to stop and it's going to come here and they're going to send you to war."

The end of your sentence coincides with the end of the song. The record is silent, save for the crackling intermission. Music is always playing in the small apartment you share with Bucky and Steve. It keeps you all sane.

For only a second, you see the same dread you feel flash across Bucky's beautiful face. It's gone so fast though. He holds a hand out to you, and you feel compelled to take it. The next song begins.

"Y/N, I promise ya, everything is gonna be fine… And… And if war comes, and they make me go, I will come back. Can't get rid of me that easy,"

"You can't promise that,"

"I can do what I want. I'm a free man. Got a beautiful girl. Got my health. Got music," Bucky says, and he's not sure if he's trying to convince only you.

Bucky leads the slow dance, half singing along. The song is new, but it resonates. Whenever skies look grey to me, and trouble begins to brew… Whenever the winter winds become too strong, I concentrate on you.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,"

"I fuckin' love you too."

When fortune cries 'Nay! Nay!' to me, and people declare 'You're through!' Whenever the blues become my only song… I concentrate on you.

…

2020, January

Steve and Sam stand on a balcony and watch as Bucky crosses a field. He disappears into trees, his arrival prompting birds to squawk and fly away, disturbed at the loud intrusion.

"He used to go into those woods, when we hosted him," T'Challa says, appearing behind them. "It's where the White Wolf was born. The children heard a howling, but only a man would emerge."

The men return to the lab, debrief with Shuri and Tony.

"His cells weren't stable," Shuri says.

"He basically turned to soup," Tony adds.

"Who do we tell?" Sam asks. The room look to him, confused. "Don't we have to tell someone…? That we found a man… and turned him to-"

"Soup," Tony finishes. "Nobody cares what we do," he says too casually.

"Bucky cares," Steve corrects, harshly but not unnecessarily so. "This isn't a game, Tony. We don't know who he was, but we know the others. We know Y/N. We have to try harder."

…

2020, March

"He looks…" but Steve isn't sure how to describe the man sitting on the bed in the room in front of him.

On Steve's left is Sam, then Bucky. They both have their arms folded across their chests, stances identical. On Steve's right is Shuri, then Tony. All five of them are watching the man through a two-way mirror; he's not moved in an hour. He's barely moved all day.

"Like a zombie?" Sam suggests.

"At least he's not soup," Tony offers cheerfully.

"Go do your sad boy whispering," Shuri calls over to Sam, who shoots her a look.

"I'm not a damn therapist. You're the white boy fixer," he quips. They share a grin.

"There's nothing wrong though? He's brain is fried or anything?" Bucky asks, his tone serious and his gaze not moving from the man. The very alive man that represents more hope than he's ever had about anything. He's fucking terrified.

"Nothing wrong with his brain," Tony confirms. "Just needs to talk it out. Get some help." And with that, he walks from the room. Shuri follows, glancing at Bucky, hoping he's alright.

Team Cap stays quiet for a little longer, then Sam sighs and shakes out his arms and legs. "Alright. Well… That's it then. We can wake her up,"

"Not yet," Bucky says quickly.

Sam looks at Steve, who gives Bucky a sympathetic look.

"I'm not bringing her back if something's gonna happen… Not bringing her back yet."

Nobody argues.

Everybody will wait as long as Bucky needs.

…

2020, May

Never thought you would be standing here so close to me.

Noise cancelling headphones are one of Bucky's many favourite things about the future, about now. He can drown out the rest of the world. Of course, he'd never be as bold as to say digital was better than a crackling record, but fuuuuck, this sound is crystal clear.

There's so much I feel I should say, but words can wait until some other day.

Bucky holds vigil next to the cryo chamber you're still dead to the world in. He sits, headphones on, almost as still as you. He studies your face, proud that he hasn’t forgotten a single detail of you.

A tap on the shoulder startles him, he's up and in a defensive position in a split second. Steve doesn't know where Buck pulled the knife from, but he's not surprised to see it. Bucky relaxes, pushes his headphones off to sit around his neck.

"Will's been home a while, Buck. Regular check-ups. He's fine…"

Bucky doesn't reply, just sits back down and returns to watching you. Steve pulls up a chair next to him. He thinks that you look peaceful. He hopes, hopes to fucking God, that you were treated well.

When William came to and found his mind again, he was almost more shocked to hear the people that put him in the chamber were the bad guys than he was to hear it was 2020. "They were nothin' but gentlemen," he said, a thick Brooklyn accent straight from Steve and Bucky's past. He didn't recognise your picture though. "Ain't seen a single dame. Must've separated the ladies," he said with a shrug, then went back to fawning over Captain America.

Bucky didn't recognise the version of Hydra that William knew.

"Shuri says-"

"I know," Bucky interrupts. "She told me. More dangerous keepin' her like this… Just… one more day, okay?" Bucky puts his headphones back on before he gets an answer.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice. Then kiss me again.

…

2020, May, three days later

Your hand is warm in Bucky's. He rubs his thumb over your wrist, feeling your pulse. He knows where you are, and you are here.

Slowly, you wake. The first sign is your eyes opening, focusing on the bright room. Confusion is written all over your face. Then, as you move your head to the side, you see him. The confusion switches to recognition, but back to confusion just as quickly. 

Bucky. It's Bucky. But he's... different. His hair is long, pulled into a bun on his head. Imagine what everyone will be saying about that! He's bigger too, more stocky. His clothes are strange and the look on his face is something you've not ever seen... It's not a look you've known on him or anybody else. 

"Bucky?" you say, but your voice is dry and croaky. "What... What are you doing here?" 

He sucks his lip in and you watch his eyes begin to water. 

….

2021

"It's all so… loud…" you say, frowning in a way that shouldn't be cute to Bucky, but it definitely is.

"I know. But trust me on this one," Bucky promises, searching through his Spotify app.

"Does it have our song?"

When Bucky looks up at you, expression blank, you think he doesn't remember. Then, he speaks. "I… I haven't… haven't looked." He remembers. He remembers dancing with you in the kitchen, singing about grey skies and brewing trouble. Bucky hadn't let himself think about it. It was too heavy with foreshadowing and it was a moment too perfect to have let himself think of as real. "But… this one is from '45, so… end of the war. And… ah, it's… You'll like it… Found it!"

You take the headphones being offered and carefully sit them on your head, still convinced you look ridiculous. How can everyone walk around with these giant things on their head? Then, the song starts. And, of course, Bucky's right; it isn't too loud or too fast. It's born of the same time as you.

It's been a long, long time. Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when.

Bucky watches you listening. You watch him back.

You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you. Or just how empty they all seemed without you.

"Is this our song now?" you ask him.

"I listen to it a lot,"

"It's sad," you reply.

Bucky shrugs. "Nah, darling. It's a happy ending. Come 'ere." He pulls you into a hug, smothering you between his arms and hair and everything. He's a mess. He's been a mess for a while, apparently.

Worming your way back into fresh air, you look up at him. He's smiling, and it makes you smile.

"I love you," you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

So kiss me once. Then kiss me twice.

"I love you too."

He presses his forehead to yours and leans in, rubbing his nose along yours. It's painful, you know. While you were sleeping, Bucky had lived too many lives. You'd been missing him for a few months, he's been missing you for what felt like forever.

Bucky repeats himself. "I love you, so, so much."

His kisses taste the same.

Then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time.

[itsbenedict]

recently bought and beat the new Pokemon, finally. i’d been holding off because i’d heard about things being rushed (the dex stuff being just a symptom of that), but i was actually pretty impressed with this one. there’s a lot of great quality of life stuff like immediate access to Fly and on-field PC access, and my worries about the Wild Area siphoning personality from the routes were ill-founded. the massive variety of wild pokemon to catch and build a team from early on was also something i’d criticized other entries in the series (sinnoh through kalos especially) for lacking. the basic catch-’em-all experience is better than ever, save the dex issues.

of course, i’ve still got a bunch of niggles:

the draw distance issues in the Wild Area were really noticeable, to the point where it interfered with gameplay sometimes when a pokemon i had my eye on would cross an invisible zone boundary and vanish. there’s a logic to how it works that you can get used to, but it’s definitely a logic that exists to paper over technical shortcomings

whose dumbass idea was it to include extensive player customization, and then force you to wear the exact same dweebus football uniform in all gym battles? those are the moments where you’re supposed to look the coolest, and they take that all away? they even sell, at exorbitant prices, different uniforms in different styles, except you’re not allowed to use those in gyms either! so what the fuck!! i had to fight the champion while wearing the color red on my body and i’m fuckin STEAMED about it

the plot on this one is as bare-bones as it’s ever been- which is a mixed bag, IMO. the “evil team does evil thing” sideplot in every game has never been, like, remotely good at all, and on a level i appreciate that they crammed the entire apocalypse plot into one sequence between the elite four and champion fights. but... man did it not make a whole lot of sense. who the big bad was is obvious, but even in the scene where he explains his evil plans after bringing them to fruition, he doesn’t actually explain his evil plans at all. something something energy the future????? apparently he fucked up but they really have no interest in explaining what he was even trying to do. the whole thing really felt like an afterthought.

the mechanics of Max Raid Battles are severely underexplained, and it’s really hard to tell what kind of force you should be bringing to these things ahead of time- they don’t list level numbers or anything, just a star rating that doesn’t tell you anything about how strong you actually need to be.

dynamax is pretty cool actually (it’s less of a buff than it looks, so it needs to be used strategically), but- hey, wait, what? you need to catch special unique capable-of-gigantimaxing versions of pokemon that can gigantimax from raid battles, and can’t use, like, the ones you’ve actually been raising? that is some prime bullshit right there.

aaaaaagh bike handling bad. i just want to pick up the dang pokeball right in front of me i don’t want to do donuts around it over and over! (plus bikes *also* force you into a dweeby sport outfit, which isn’t any different from SuMo’s ride pokemon but this time the color coordination is even more godawful.)

i have very little idea what the point of Watts is supposed to be. there’s not much worthwhile you can buy with it, and the stuff that is worthwhile (TRs mainly) costs so much you’d need to grind for ages to get enough. it’s like tickets at a shitty kids’ arcade place. either this is a system they wanted to build out more but didn’t have time to, or it becomes more relevant in post-game content i don’t have time to bother with. Just Use Money Yo

camping is also underexplained- i’m not sure what’s going on with the friendship mechanic this time around, or how much petting and playing affects it. without clear mechanical incentive, i pretty much didn’t bother unless i wanted a full party heal from curry (whose minigame is, you guessed it, underexplained and kinda bullshit).

the same issues that plague every single pokemon game are still here- most egregiously the glacial progression of battle notifications. i don’t need you to take up ten full seconds at the beginning of every battle to have Corviknight shiver a little bit and then tell me that it’s hailing and then also tell me that Pressure is active! i don’t need a three-second text notification every time Fury Attack gets another one of its 2-5 hits! i don’t need you to give me separate “you took a teeny tiny amount of damage from sandstorm” and “the enemy took a teeny tiny amount of damage from sandstorm” messages! i can tell that my health went down from spending four seconds watching the bar tick down! jesus FUCKING christ, streamline your UX fucking AT ALL from the way it was in 1996!!! how is your battle conveyance STILL this archaic despite all the other QoL stuff you’re apparently not afraid to include?!?!! I’LL KICK YOUR ASS THROUGH YOUR GODDAMN TEETH BECAUSE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

but yeah other than that it’s pretty good